Lo! A Light Here Shines (3/3)
anonymous
January 4 2013, 03:30:57 UTC
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I can feel my lungs aching for breath. My body is on the verge of peace, but now is wracked with pain. I have never been so clumsy, so slow, as to let a blade slip through this body. I cannot see. I see only stars, and light, and darkness. Kolyat is here. My son is here. He is murmuring prayers beside my bed, the names of the ancients invoked not to slow my passing, not to heal this broken body, but to ease its pain and to absolve the many stains remaining on my soul. My son. My Kolyat. He has learned well, and will keep the traditions alive. He prays for peace, not for miracles; he prays for a gentle passing - he prays for the waters to slip over his old, aching, shattered father. He is a good son. He is a better son than I was a father.
The door hisses open, and I hear a familiar voice. Shepard. My friend. Ah. He is here. Kolyat is speaking with him. His deep, gentle, innocent, human voice is lined with worry and pain, with regret that he cannot do more. That is alright. That is healthy. He will truly learn the worth of grief in the days to come, I think, and not here at my bedside.
“Thane,” he says, and I can tell that he wants to say more, but does not know what. That, too, is alright. He will soon learn the power of silence, too.
He takes a deep breath and I feel my chest burn in response. “Thane,” he says, “would you repeat the prophecy? I know it’s a lot to ask, but-”
I raise my hand, just barely. “Yes, Shepard.”
I close my eyes for the briefest of moments, then they slide open of their own accord, and I feel shivers run down the length of my body. I feel my mouth moving, I hear sounds slipping from my lips, but the feeling is incomparable. I am not myself. Am I dying? Is my last gift to my friend incomprehensible sounds from an oxygen-starved brain?
Then the words coalesce in my ears.
“This foe will strike at the very heart of his being, and the darkness will spread through the shepherd’s soul … In this time will the shepherd be tested as no other before him nor after, and victory will only be at the cost of more than he could ever believe possible: he will have to trust not in himself, but in those who place their faith in him.”
I do not understand. I see Shepard’s shocked face hovering just inside the field of my vision, and I distantly sense that the room has taken on the feeling which still courses through my body: more is residing within these walls than an assassin, his son, and a hero.
There is quiet for a moment, and then I understand, and I begin to speak again.
“Kalahira, mistress of inscrutable depths, I ask forgiveness. Kalahira, whose waves wear down stone and sand-Kalahira, wash the sins from this one, and set him on the distant shore of the infinite spirit.”
Ah … the sea.
A/N: Hope you enjoy, OP. :) I do have a tiny epilogue with Shepard if you want it, but after much deliberation I think I can end it here ...
oh my god, a!a, this was better than i could hope for. thank you so much!!! i would love the epilogue if you feel okay posting it, but i do think it's a beautiful ending as-is, so i'll leave it up to you :)
I can feel my lungs aching for breath. My body is on the verge of peace, but now is wracked with pain. I have never been so clumsy, so slow, as to let a blade slip through this body. I cannot see. I see only stars, and light, and darkness. Kolyat is here. My son is here. He is murmuring prayers beside my bed, the names of the ancients invoked not to slow my passing, not to heal this broken body, but to ease its pain and to absolve the many stains remaining on my soul. My son. My Kolyat. He has learned well, and will keep the traditions alive. He prays for peace, not for miracles; he prays for a gentle passing - he prays for the waters to slip over his old, aching, shattered father. He is a good son. He is a better son than I was a father.
The door hisses open, and I hear a familiar voice. Shepard. My friend. Ah. He is here. Kolyat is speaking with him. His deep, gentle, innocent, human voice is lined with worry and pain, with regret that he cannot do more. That is alright. That is healthy. He will truly learn the worth of grief in the days to come, I think, and not here at my bedside.
“Thane,” he says, and I can tell that he wants to say more, but does not know what. That, too, is alright. He will soon learn the power of silence, too.
He takes a deep breath and I feel my chest burn in response. “Thane,” he says, “would you repeat the prophecy? I know it’s a lot to ask, but-”
I raise my hand, just barely. “Yes, Shepard.”
I close my eyes for the briefest of moments, then they slide open of their own accord, and I feel shivers run down the length of my body. I feel my mouth moving, I hear sounds slipping from my lips, but the feeling is incomparable. I am not myself. Am I dying? Is my last gift to my friend incomprehensible sounds from an oxygen-starved brain?
Then the words coalesce in my ears.
“This foe will strike at the very heart of his being, and the darkness will spread through the shepherd’s soul … In this time will the shepherd be tested as no other before him nor after, and victory will only be at the cost of more than he could ever believe possible: he will have to trust not in himself, but in those who place their faith in him.”
I do not understand. I see Shepard’s shocked face hovering just inside the field of my vision, and I distantly sense that the room has taken on the feeling which still courses through my body: more is residing within these walls than an assassin, his son, and a hero.
There is quiet for a moment, and then I understand, and I begin to speak again.
“Kalahira, mistress of inscrutable depths, I ask forgiveness. Kalahira, whose waves wear down stone and sand-Kalahira, wash the sins from this one, and set him on the distant shore of the infinite spirit.”
Ah … the sea.
A/N: Hope you enjoy, OP. :) I do have a tiny epilogue with Shepard if you want it, but after much deliberation I think I can end it here ...
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What to choose?
Words floated through his mind, a shiver running down his spine.
" … he will have to trust not in himself, but in those who place their faith in him."
He set his jaw and looked away from the insolent gleaming face.
A/N: deleted comment was me derping and de-anoning. So glad you like, OP and anon! Cross-posted to FFN, too, just for the heck of it.
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