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His endless battles free civilian souls, the number of which he'd lost track an infinity ago. Lilina's flames rise with his as he fights, taming the destruction the sword wreaks on his body. She weaves around him, shimmering with power, her steps choreographed to his though he can barely understand where his body is moving. As he falls to his knees she raises her arms in a mage's stance and turns their enemy's attack on itself, freeing the soul within. The spirit cries in gratitude before fleeing.
"Lilina, I..." Roy whispers. He turns away in shame, resenting that she will follow him.
The sight of a friend resurrects his soul and fills him with dread.
The polluted air quivers with static, thick with betrayal. Pichu circles predatorily, demanding a presence much larger than his diminutive body. Roy's sword falters again and a flash of lightning shoots through his body. Blinded by agony, he falls to the ground.
He catches Pichu in an explosion of flame, searing both bodies. Lilina brushes his hand, clearing his vision, and lifts his arm to point his blade at his dear companion. Pichu approaches, leaps, wrapped in lethal sparks. Roy warps around, dislocating a shoulder, strikes Pichu savagely in the back, freeing them from their torment as his friend lays beaten in the dirt.
Roy wants to beg for Lilina's forgiveness while she is here beside him, but the dream realm oppresses his tongue and his grief.
Lilina's eyes fill with tears as she wraps him in a hug. "I'm sorry we had to fight him. Now he's free."
Roy swallows an awful, bitter sting of jealousy.
Lilina's hair floats about her as she looks down at him, worry her face. He blinks and she's gone, but finds his aching shoulder is back in place.
The agitated Pichu leaps into Roy's arms, securing his spot there until the end of the day. In the night, Pichu curls up against his body and sleeps, a little singularity of peace, safe under the wing of someone Roy cannot recognise.
Pichu nuzzles him throughout the next morning, to which Roy hides his numbness. He hugs his companion tight.
A phantom stalks them in the corner of his eye. Roy pivots, staring into the face of a blue-haired swordsman. A prince, his partner before the end, before they'd lost their minds.
He yells his name, the ghost disappearing as soon as he moves, leaving him grasping air.
He couldn't forgive himself for forgetting.
The trio hide in a crevice in the cliffs. Lilina strokes Pichu, though neither can feel anything. Nonetheless, Pichu purrs gratefully, nudging Roy in the hand. He runs his hands through the stiff, golden hairs before moving his hand to Lilina's. He phases through, the brown stone grazing his palm.
In his dream realm, he is roused by a kind face framed by blue.
Lilina's image dissipates, the hair lightens and shortens, leaving his partner standing in the vacated space. They stare across the void, breathless.
"I dream of you, you know," his dear friend finally says. He closes his eyes, exhales a shuddering breath, reaching for Roy's hand. Clasps it with both hands and raises it towards his heart. Roy feels it beating and radiating with unreal warmth. He wishes more than ever that he could speak even a single word.
"Come to me," says Marth, his voice catching. "I beg of you."