after nearly two months of leaving my poor LJ alone
Rita could barely choke out her spells. I can’t let you do this, she’d said, so she’d fought. It was the only way to do anything justice: Fight. That’s all her life had become lately, was running and fighting. She’d been all right with it, as long as it was for Estelle, but this
It was second nature, and by the time Yuri’s sword had sliced across his chest she was numb. Then Dein Nomos’s steel had slit Ra-Schwann’s-skin open and blood trickled across the blastia in his chest where his heart should have been wait what. Rita had been jarred out of her numb denial as a horrified cry escaped her throat.
And now he was all that was standing between them and death, bleeding from the forehead where a large rock had nailed him and smiling grimly. Schwann’s eyes - which had been wide, bright, and clear - were now in the half-lidded, lazy gaze she knew. Sweat made his black hair cling to his neck as he gave a grunt, more light pouring from his blastia. Stupid, I fucking warned you--!
He looked up from Karol, and there was no longer any doubt in her mind that Raven and Schwann were one and the same. The confidence and the strength was Schwann’s, but the smile he gave her was so bitter and resigned that it could only belong to Raven. His weight buckled under the slab of ceiling he was holding up, and the last she saw was him closing an eye and sliding to one knee as Judith pulled her away and Karol screamed.
Everything was shaking and the world blurred as Rita’s eyes stung. It had been so long since she’d cried that she didn’t realize what it was at first, and when she did she scrubbed at her face, dancing around a pile of debris. Crying wouldn’t accomplish anything. All she could do was move, move and find Estelle.
Yes, Estelle, who was in danger and could die and cause the damn apocalypse but for some reason all she could think of was looking back at him in the Sands of Kogorh’s oasis and wondering why he hadn’t joined them in the water. He’d sat at the edge of the water, cooling his feet, but then a wave had washed over her and it was Estelle, giggling and splashing so Rita turned back with a ferocious shout and who cared that Raven wasn’t coming in, he was an old fart anyway. He didn’t know, did he, that there’d been a smile on his face. It’d looked almost wistful as the young adults relished being alive and of course he didn’t join in because of the blastia and the fact that he had to reason to celebrate because he was dead dead dead and finally buried in the ruins behind them. Rita gasped for breath and kept running.
*********
Schwann’s mind had been completely clear during their battle, and it was a relief when he felt Yuri’s sword bite into his skin and scrape across his blastia with an angry screech. Maybe now it would be over.
But no, he wasn’t that lucky. He’d never been that lucky, or else he would be ten years buried in Zaphias. Instead, his body moved on its own as Raven and Schwann melded into one jumble of a bitter man. But it was that man who caught the ceiling, even though he nearly gave out as his fake heart whirred and whined and the energy flowed out of his chest and seared through his veins. He focused instead on the first person he set eyes on, one of this weird rabble Raven called his maybe-probably-they’re-not-so-bad friends. He followed the striped leg up to the form of Rita, who had thrown herself clear as the ceiling fell, and was twisting back, looking at him with horror and awe and something else entirely.
Something wet and hot rolled down his face. Schwann thought it was more sweat until it dripped into his open mouth and he tasted copper. Ah, hell. He focused harder on the genius mage of Aspio in front of him, how her outfit was bloodstained and how there was a smudge of dirt on her cheek, under her left eye. How her cropped hair was tousled and her yellow arm ribbon was ripped and shortened, and then suddenly he was Raven and back in Mantaic.
There was a party in the streets and Raven knew that Schwann hadn’t liked Cumore much anyway, and if Yuri had killed the bastard then power to him, but either way the phony captain was missing and the small town was freed. There were children surrounding him on all sides, tugging and shrieking and laughing and Raven had never felt so old and so young at the same time. He untangled a small girl from his back and glanced around to see the grumpy mage with a smile on her face, twisting and twirling in time to the music and the fireworks. Her ribbons accentuated her moves, whipping around as gracefully as she and leaving a clear, colorful trail. Colors boomed in the sky and Raven found himself content to watch her be young and alive and hope that she or anyone here never know the horrors that he and Schwann did. She danced on, oblivious to the eyes that watched her before he turned around and walked back to the Inn.
He smiled briefly at her before she was pulled away by Judith, then looked down at Karol. I’d never had a father, but you-the boy had said, and Schwann shook his head slightly at Karol, who sobbed and pulled himself to his feet. “Raven,” he choked out one more time, before turning and following his friends.
“Gettin’ soft in my old age,” Raven murmured through Schwann’s lips, surprised when they twisted upwards. If I’m lucky, this’ll be the end.
He heard, faintly, the choked scream of “IDIOT!!” It echoed around the chamber that he was certain would soon be his tomb. Then, unbidden, he thought of Heliord, how she’d stood there in the downpour and tried desperately to fix the barrier blastia. Her fingers had danced over the keys and her lips moved soundlessly, her eyes furious and panicked and determined. He had to admire a young lady’s spirit, and back in the collapsing chamber, Schwann and Raven suddenly realized that admiration had grown to be the wrong word, and the teasing had grown to be more affectionate.
He crumpled and gave up, mind reeling. All Raven could think was that it was the crappiest revelation to have before dyin’, that you really were a disgusting old pervert. Schwann, on the other hand, only had two words to say before the rubble buried him.
“How unfortunate.”
It was second nature, and by the time Yuri’s sword had sliced across his chest she was numb. Then Dein Nomos’s steel had slit Ra-Schwann’s-skin open and blood trickled across the blastia in his chest where his heart should have been wait what. Rita had been jarred out of her numb denial as a horrified cry escaped her throat.
And now he was all that was standing between them and death, bleeding from the forehead where a large rock had nailed him and smiling grimly. Schwann’s eyes - which had been wide, bright, and clear - were now in the half-lidded, lazy gaze she knew. Sweat made his black hair cling to his neck as he gave a grunt, more light pouring from his blastia. Stupid, I fucking warned you--!
He looked up from Karol, and there was no longer any doubt in her mind that Raven and Schwann were one and the same. The confidence and the strength was Schwann’s, but the smile he gave her was so bitter and resigned that it could only belong to Raven. His weight buckled under the slab of ceiling he was holding up, and the last she saw was him closing an eye and sliding to one knee as Judith pulled her away and Karol screamed.
Everything was shaking and the world blurred as Rita’s eyes stung. It had been so long since she’d cried that she didn’t realize what it was at first, and when she did she scrubbed at her face, dancing around a pile of debris. Crying wouldn’t accomplish anything. All she could do was move, move and find Estelle.
Yes, Estelle, who was in danger and could die and cause the damn apocalypse but for some reason all she could think of was looking back at him in the Sands of Kogorh’s oasis and wondering why he hadn’t joined them in the water. He’d sat at the edge of the water, cooling his feet, but then a wave had washed over her and it was Estelle, giggling and splashing so Rita turned back with a ferocious shout and who cared that Raven wasn’t coming in, he was an old fart anyway. He didn’t know, did he, that there’d been a smile on his face. It’d looked almost wistful as the young adults relished being alive and of course he didn’t join in because of the blastia and the fact that he had to reason to celebrate because he was dead dead dead and finally buried in the ruins behind them. Rita gasped for breath and kept running.
*********
Schwann’s mind had been completely clear during their battle, and it was a relief when he felt Yuri’s sword bite into his skin and scrape across his blastia with an angry screech. Maybe now it would be over.
But no, he wasn’t that lucky. He’d never been that lucky, or else he would be ten years buried in Zaphias. Instead, his body moved on its own as Raven and Schwann melded into one jumble of a bitter man. But it was that man who caught the ceiling, even though he nearly gave out as his fake heart whirred and whined and the energy flowed out of his chest and seared through his veins. He focused instead on the first person he set eyes on, one of this weird rabble Raven called his maybe-probably-they’re-not-so-bad friends. He followed the striped leg up to the form of Rita, who had thrown herself clear as the ceiling fell, and was twisting back, looking at him with horror and awe and something else entirely.
Something wet and hot rolled down his face. Schwann thought it was more sweat until it dripped into his open mouth and he tasted copper. Ah, hell. He focused harder on the genius mage of Aspio in front of him, how her outfit was bloodstained and how there was a smudge of dirt on her cheek, under her left eye. How her cropped hair was tousled and her yellow arm ribbon was ripped and shortened, and then suddenly he was Raven and back in Mantaic.
There was a party in the streets and Raven knew that Schwann hadn’t liked Cumore much anyway, and if Yuri had killed the bastard then power to him, but either way the phony captain was missing and the small town was freed. There were children surrounding him on all sides, tugging and shrieking and laughing and Raven had never felt so old and so young at the same time. He untangled a small girl from his back and glanced around to see the grumpy mage with a smile on her face, twisting and twirling in time to the music and the fireworks. Her ribbons accentuated her moves, whipping around as gracefully as she and leaving a clear, colorful trail. Colors boomed in the sky and Raven found himself content to watch her be young and alive and hope that she or anyone here never know the horrors that he and Schwann did. She danced on, oblivious to the eyes that watched her before he turned around and walked back to the Inn.
He smiled briefly at her before she was pulled away by Judith, then looked down at Karol. I’d never had a father, but you-the boy had said, and Schwann shook his head slightly at Karol, who sobbed and pulled himself to his feet. “Raven,” he choked out one more time, before turning and following his friends.
“Gettin’ soft in my old age,” Raven murmured through Schwann’s lips, surprised when they twisted upwards. If I’m lucky, this’ll be the end.
He heard, faintly, the choked scream of “IDIOT!!” It echoed around the chamber that he was certain would soon be his tomb. Then, unbidden, he thought of Heliord, how she’d stood there in the downpour and tried desperately to fix the barrier blastia. Her fingers had danced over the keys and her lips moved soundlessly, her eyes furious and panicked and determined. He had to admire a young lady’s spirit, and back in the collapsing chamber, Schwann and Raven suddenly realized that admiration had grown to be the wrong word, and the teasing had grown to be more affectionate.
He crumpled and gave up, mind reeling. All Raven could think was that it was the crappiest revelation to have before dyin’, that you really were a disgusting old pervert. Schwann, on the other hand, only had two words to say before the rubble buried him.
“How unfortunate.”