On the crest of a small hill overlooking the burning village below, he found her.
She lay on her side, motionless, facing the bed of flowers that sprung around her from the blood she had fed the earth.Â
Even in the worst tragedy, nothing but beauty came from Lady Shura.
Martis dropped his blades and rushed towards her, his breathing quick and shallow at the sight of his ward sprawled lifelessly on the ground.
He knelt and cradled her in his arms. Relief washed over him as he felt her breath, though it was cold.
Lady Shura slowly opened her eyes. It took a while for her to grasp what was happening as a deep slumber had taken ahold of her. She willed her senses to waken as soothing green energy briefly enveloped them.Â
Martis had cast a healing spell.
In a different circumstance, she would have laughed. He hated any form of magic, claiming it was a cheap trick used by the weak.
“...Won’t work...” She managed to mumble while breathing out.
“QUIET!” Martis commanded, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Don’t waste your energy on words.”
Martis glared at her. Such a blade was laced with poison that negated any healing effects.Â
If her wound was fatal, nothing could be done...
He let out a disdainful growl to mask the growing dread in him.
“Disobedient woman! Look at what you've done!"
Had she stayed in their fortress, none of this would have happened! She wanted to fight for justice and light, meaningless concepts made by an inferior race to fool themselves that they had some semblance of control and dominion over their pathetic, fleeting lives.
He fought in the Land of Dawn for supremacy but could not care less for the conflict between the Moniyans and the Abyss. She pleaded for him to help the former and when he refused, she unwisely decided to take on the endeavor herself.Â
Though a prisoner of an old war, she became the king’s favorite pet, perhaps becoming even more than what he cared to admit. Her every whim was granted given she caused no trouble and remained within their walls.
She was obedient until that day. She left all the comfort and luxury he offered her to die for a pointless cause.
Martis drew her close and held her in a tight embrace, his nails burying deep into her skin. She wearily rested her head on his shoulder.
“WHO DREW THE BLADE? NAME WHOSE HEAD I MUST SEVER AND IMPALE!!!”
She heard him but his words sounded distant. Lady Shura took in deep breathes, desperately clinging on to the last threads of life to be with her lord.
He could feel more of her weight in his arms...
The words echoed in her thoughts and an unbearable longing came over her. The urgency strengthened her enough to evade the clutches of death a bit longer.
“Name?… My name… What’s my name?”
The question stunned Martis, suppressing his rage. He loosened his hold on her.
“Say my name... The one you took from me.”
“Enough of your sentimentalities! You are the lady of the Shura clan. I will take you home and you will be - ”
Tears fell down Lady Shura’s cheeks as she looked out into the fiery blaze that raged on from below the hill. He was right: she was not fit for war. Even with the Pride she conjured from his energy, she could not defend people from the Abyss. She also did not know that being away from Martis caused her powers to wane gradually.
She saved one life… a warrior who fought for the abyss. And she paid the ultimate price for it. Fate mocked her till the end.
Both were silent for what felt like an eternity.
She didn’t have much time…
With all that she had left in her, she touched his face. She felt him grab her hand and press them to his cheek.Â
She couldn’t absorb his energy anymore, but she could still feel him.
“It’s no longer these chains that bind me to you.” She whispered softly. “Give me my freedom to be by your side.”
“Please… let me pass on as myself.”
She felt him let out a deep sigh and he tightened his embrace, unwilling to accept this inevitable tragedy.Â
Slowly, he turned to her. She felt him nudging his head to part her hair, taking in her scent.Â
He placed the hand he held on his chest.
With a barely audible whisper, he spoke a name she had long forgotten. It sounded like the sweetest lullaby.
She smiled weakly. “Thank you… my king.”
She closed her eyes and let herself rest on his shoulder. With the hand he still held, she caressed his skin.Â
Memories of her home and her people flooded her; She remembered the sweet taste of ambrosia, the merriment of the harvest festivals, running through the woods and taking in the lush beauty around her.
Her surroundings began to blur away, replaced by visions of everything she used to hold dear inviting her home.
Under a fiery crimson sky and the ever-watchful waning moon, dreams-of-a-life-once-had took the young girl from the Ashura King, who let out a rage-filled cry that shook the heavens and made the earth tremble with fear.
Story Written by Me (SnowFallDoodles)
