CHAPTER 43 – THE PROMISE TO SAVE
HIRAYA MISTELTEIN
The sharp crack of a gunshot shattered the stillness, its reverberations hanging heavy in the air. My eyes widened, a mix of horror and disbelief clouding them. As I slowly lowered the pistol, a cascade of tears blurred my vision.
Lysander's eyes darted, first locking onto me and then shifting downward, a look of surprise etched across his face. A dark stain spread across his shirt, but it wasn't his blood. It belonged to Alris, who loomed above him, an ominous silhouette against the dim light.
Alris let out a strangled sound, his eyes briefly darting to the gaping wound in his chest. His grip faltered, and the fiery blade of his buster sword clattered to the ground, casting eerie shadows. He stumbled backward, his fingers brushing against the warm, sticky wetness seeping from his injury, a chilling realization settling over him.
With a voice barely above a whisper, choked with pain and regret, he rasped, "H...Hiraya..." His strength failing him, Alris crumpled to the ground, his body hitting the floor with a muted thud.
"Alris!" The pistol slipped from my grasp, forgotten, as I sprinted toward him, desperation fueling every step.
Conflicting emotions churned within me, a whirlwind of intent and purpose. The gun's cold weight in my hands was a means to an end, a way to counteract the dangerous recoil of the Nova Arrow. Yet, it was Alris, not Lysander, who stood in my crosshairs. My sole mission was to shield Lysander, a choice driven not by logic but by raw, unyielding emotion. In that chaotic moment, reflection took a backseat to instinct; my heart ruled, clouding my judgment as the fear of losing either of them loomed like a specter.
"Alris! Hold on!" My voice cracked with desperation as I cradled him, his weight heavy against my lap. Crimson tainted his pristine white locks and stark horns, each cough a painful testament to his rapidly fading strength.
Drawing upon the depths of my magical reservoir, I channeled healing energies toward him, desperate to mend the gaping void in his chest. Yet, as my magic sought to knit flesh and repair damage, the grim reality became painfully clear—I had obliterated his heart, leaving devastation in its wake. No spell, no matter how potent, could mend such a catastrophic wound.
With a feeble gesture, Alris reached out, his blood-streaked hand trembling as it brushed against my cheek. His lips curved into a faint, weary smile, his eyes reflecting gratitude and acceptance. "You... you did well, Hiraya," he whispered, each word a laborious effort. "Thank you... for shielding Lysander from my own folly."
"Stay with me, Alris! Hold on!" My voice trembled with desperation, a futile plea echoing in the face of impending loss. Deep down, I knew the truth, but denial clung to me, an anchor against the rising tide of despair.
His smile, hauntingly serene, belied the gravity of his condition. "Hiraya, forgive me," Alris murmured, each word laced with a fragile acceptance. "I once spoke of destiny binding us, but it appears my path ends here." His complexion waned with every fleeting second, a ghostly pallor overtaking him.
"Don't say that, Alris! I regret shooting you! Please, don't slip away!" Tears blurred my vision as I clung to his cooling hand, a desperate lifeline in a sea of anguish.
His voice, barely above a whisper, carried a weight of remorse that threatened to crush him. "I can't bear the weight of my sins, Hiraya. The lives I've taken, the destruction I've wrought... Tasty Town, it's all on my hands," he confessed, each word punctuated by a painful cough, staining his lips with crimson. "This... is my penance."
"No! You're not defined by your mistakes!" I vehemently countered, my heart wrenching with each labored breath he took. "Alris, stay with us! You're not alone!"
A fragile, bittersweet smile graced Alris's lips, his gaze locking onto mine with a depth of emotion that defied words. "Hiraya... I love you. Please, find it in your heart to forgive me... for all I've done..."
Stunned, my voice caught in my throat, choked by a torrent of emotions too overwhelming to articulate. I bit down hard on my lip, the metallic tang of blood mingling with the salty taste of tears streaming down my face.
From the shadowed periphery, a soft, deliberate rhythm broke the silence. Lysander's approach was measured, his steps a solemn echo against the backdrop of sorrow. He knelt beside us, his eyes hollow, devoid of the spark that once defined him, mirroring the desolation that enveloped us all.
"Alris," Lysander's voice was barely a whisper, a fragile thread in the oppressive silence.
With a feeble gesture, Alris extended a trembling hand, reaching out toward his ally, his strength waning with each passing second. Lysander hesitated momentarily, his gaze locked with Alris's, before finally intertwining their hands, a poignant connection that transcended words.
"Promise me, Lysander... look after Hiraya," Alris's voice wavered, each word growing fainter as his strength ebbed away.
Lysander's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You should be the one to care for her, Alris. She loves you, and destiny has its plans for both of you."
A weak, pained laugh escaped Alris's lips, tainted with the taste of blood. "That destiny... it's slipping away from me, Lysander," he rasped, a grim acceptance settling over him. "I've seen the way you watch her..."
Lysander's laughter, though tinged with sorrow, rang out, a bitter melody against the backdrop of impending loss. "Your humor persists, even now, Alris," he managed, his voice cracking with emotion.
As the moments dwindled, Alris's gaze fixed on Lysander, a fleeting camaraderie surfacing amidst the turmoil. "You know, Lysander," he began, his voice softening with regret, "we might have been close friends, if not for the heartache that binds us. Perhaps we could've shared laughter, created memories... If only I hadn't brought ruin upon your kin, destroyed our home... Maybe, just maybe, you'd have been my close friend, my brother in arms."
A heavy silence enveloped them, the weight of impending loss hanging palpably in the air. Alris's breaths grew shallow, each word a laborious struggle as he fought against the inevitable tide of mortality.
"Lysander," Alris rasped, his voice tinged with a haunting regret, "forgive me. And promise me, spare Hiraya from the burden of my sins. The devastation of Tasty Town... it rests solely on my shoulders."
Lysander's eyes darkened, a storm of emotions swirling within their depths. "The blame does not lie with you, Alris. It's Gazelle's malevolence that set this tragedy into motion," he declared firmly, his fingers clasping Alris's with a fierce determination.
A faint, grateful smile flickered across Alris's pallid face, his strength waning with each passing moment. "Thank you, Lysander," he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. "Promise me... shield Hiraya... prevent her from succumbing to the fate of a Dragon Lord."
With solemn resolve, Lysander nodded, his commitment unwavering. "I promise," he vowed, the weight of his words echoing in the somber stillness.
With Alris's life extinguished, his once-vibrant hands grew cold, his gaze vacant and haunting.
"No... Alris!" My voice echoed, a raw, gut-wrenching cry that reverberated through the desolate landscape.
Tears streamed down my face, a torrential downpour of sorrow for the dragonoid who had been more than just a companion; he had been my confidant, my anchor. Each droplet that fell onto his still visage felt like a stab to my heart, a cruel reminder of the gaping void left in his wake. Recognizing the need for closure, Lysander tenderly closed Alris's unseeing eyes, a final act of respect for a fallen comrade.
Time seemed to blur, the minutes stretching into an eternity as we remained ensnared in our grief. Yet, reality intruded, a harsh reminder of the enormity of the tragedy that had befallen Tasty Town. The weight of countless lives lost threatened to engulf us, rendering my personal anguish secondary in the face of such devastation.
Gathering my shattered resolve, I pushed myself upright, my movements mechanical as I wiped away the tears that stained my cheeks. As I pivoted to face Lysander, his gaze met mine, a chilling void where warmth once resided. The emptiness in his eyes bore into me, a silent testament to the depths of his pain and the looming uncertainty that threatened to unravel the fragile threads of our existence.
"Why... Why did you shoot him?" Lysander's voice, a broken murmur, carried the weight of betrayal. "Alris... he was your lover, your future husband."
The words hung heavy in the air, a suffocating revelation that shattered the fragile remnants of our shared reality. Lysander's accusations, like venom, seeped into the wounds of my already aching heart.
"I did it to save you," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, the truth a bitter taste on my tongue.
Lysander's anguish erupted, a primal roar that echoed through the desolation, his accusatory finger pointing towards the obliterated remnants of Tasty Town. "I don't need saving! This is all bullshit!" he bellowed, the pain etched across his face mirroring the ruins that surrounded us. "I have nothing left. My town, my family, my friends, everything is gone! I've made everything worse!"
"But you still have me," I pleaded, a feeble attempt at solace. "We promised to save everyone, to prevent this future together."
Lysander's response was a torrent of despair, his words a harsh indictment of our futile efforts. "There's no one left to save! Haven't you grasped it, you fool? Gazelle spelled it out! You're a future Dragon Lord, the Oracle that spells humanity's demise!"
Dread clawed at my insides, the revelation hitting like an icy wave. "Was it true?" I stammered, my voice trembling.
"Everything he said is true!" Lysander's declaration cut through the air like a blade, his gaze filled with accusation and despair. "You're one of them—the ones who will bring about the end of us all!"
CHAPTER 43 – THE PROMISE TO SAVE
HIRAYA MISTELTEIN
The sharp crack of a gunshot shattered the stillness, its reverberations hanging heavy in the air. My eyes widened, a mix of horror and disbelief clouding them. As I slowly lowered the pistol, a cascade of tears blurred my vision.
Lysander's eyes darted, first locking onto me and then shifting downward, a look of surprise etched across his face. A dark stain spread across his shirt, but it wasn't his blood. It belonged to Alris, who loomed above him, an ominous silhouette against the dim light.
Alris let out a strangled sound, his eyes briefly darting to the gaping wound in his chest. His grip faltered, and the fiery blade of his buster sword clattered to the ground, casting eerie shadows. He stumbled backward, his fingers brushing against the warm, sticky wetness seeping from his injury, a chilling realization settling over him.
With a voice barely above a whisper, choked with pain and regret, he rasped, "H...Hiraya..." His strength failing him, Alris crumpled to the ground, his body hitting the floor with a muted thud.
"Alris!" The pistol slipped from my grasp, forgotten, as I sprinted toward him, desperation fueling every step.
Conflicting emotions churned within me, a whirlwind of intent and purpose. The gun's cold weight in my hands was a means to an end, a way to counteract the dangerous recoil of the Nova Arrow. Yet, it was Alris, not Lysander, who stood in my crosshairs. My sole mission was to shield Lysander, a choice driven not by logic but by raw, unyielding emotion. In that chaotic moment, reflection took a backseat to instinct; my heart ruled, clouding my judgment as the fear of losing either of them loomed like a specter.
"Alris! Hold on!" My voice cracked with desperation as I cradled him, his weight heavy against my lap. Crimson tainted his pristine white locks and stark horns, each cough a painful testament to his rapidly fading strength.
Drawing upon the depths of my magical reservoir, I channeled healing energies toward him, desperate to mend the gaping void in his chest. Yet, as my magic sought to knit flesh and repair damage, the grim reality became painfully clear—I had obliterated his heart, leaving devastation in its wake. No spell, no matter how potent, could mend such a catastrophic wound.
With a feeble gesture, Alris reached out, his blood-streaked hand trembling as it brushed against my cheek. His lips curved into a faint, weary smile, his eyes reflecting gratitude and acceptance. "You... you did well, Hiraya," he whispered, each word a laborious effort. "Thank you... for shielding Lysander from my own folly."
"Stay with me, Alris! Hold on!" My voice trembled with desperation, a futile plea echoing in the face of impending loss. Deep down, I knew the truth, but denial clung to me, an anchor against the rising tide of despair.
His smile, hauntingly serene, belied the gravity of his condition. "Hiraya, forgive me," Alris murmured, each word laced with a fragile acceptance. "I once spoke of destiny binding us, but it appears my path ends here." His complexion waned with every fleeting second, a ghostly pallor overtaking him.
"Don't say that, Alris! I regret shooting you! Please, don't slip away!" Tears blurred my vision as I clung to his cooling hand, a desperate lifeline in a sea of anguish.
His voice, barely above a whisper, carried a weight of remorse that threatened to crush him. "I can't bear the weight of my sins, Hiraya. The lives I've taken, the destruction I've wrought... Tasty Town, it's all on my hands," he confessed, each word punctuated by a painful cough, staining his lips with crimson. "This... is my penance."
"No! You're not defined by your mistakes!" I vehemently countered, my heart wrenching with each labored breath he took. "Alris, stay with us! You're not alone!"
A fragile, bittersweet smile graced Alris's lips, his gaze locking onto mine with a depth of emotion that defied words. "Hiraya... I love you. Please, find it in your heart to forgive me... for all I've done..."
Stunned, my voice caught in my throat, choked by a torrent of emotions too overwhelming to articulate. I bit down hard on my lip, the metallic tang of blood mingling with the salty taste of tears streaming down my face.
From the shadowed periphery, a soft, deliberate rhythm broke the silence. Lysander's approach was measured, his steps a solemn echo against the backdrop of sorrow. He knelt beside us, his eyes hollow, devoid of the spark that once defined him, mirroring the desolation that enveloped us all.
"Alris," Lysander's voice was barely a whisper, a fragile thread in the oppressive silence.
With a feeble gesture, Alris extended a trembling hand, reaching out toward his ally, his strength waning with each passing second. Lysander hesitated momentarily, his gaze locked with Alris's, before finally intertwining their hands, a poignant connection that transcended words.
"Promise me, Lysander... look after Hiraya," Alris's voice wavered, each word growing fainter as his strength ebbed away.
Lysander's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You should be the one to care for her, Alris. She loves you, and destiny has its plans for both of you."
A weak, pained laugh escaped Alris's lips, tainted with the taste of blood. "That destiny... it's slipping away from me, Lysander," he rasped, a grim acceptance settling over him. "I've seen the way you watch her..."
Lysander's laughter, though tinged with sorrow, rang out, a bitter melody against the backdrop of impending loss. "Your humor persists, even now, Alris," he managed, his voice cracking with emotion.
As the moments dwindled, Alris's gaze fixed on Lysander, a fleeting camaraderie surfacing amidst the turmoil. "You know, Lysander," he began, his voice softening with regret, "we might have been close friends, if not for the heartache that binds us. Perhaps we could've shared laughter, created memories... If only I hadn't brought ruin upon your kin, destroyed our home... Maybe, just maybe, you'd have been my close friend, my brother in arms."
A heavy silence enveloped them, the weight of impending loss hanging palpably in the air. Alris's breaths grew shallow, each word a laborious struggle as he fought against the inevitable tide of mortality.
"Lysander," Alris rasped, his voice tinged with a haunting regret, "forgive me. And promise me, spare Hiraya from the burden of my sins. The devastation of Tasty Town... it rests solely on my shoulders."
Lysander's eyes darkened, a storm of emotions swirling within their depths. "The blame does not lie with you, Alris. It's Gazelle's malevolence that set this tragedy into motion," he declared firmly, his fingers clasping Alris's with a fierce determination.
A faint, grateful smile flickered across Alris's pallid face, his strength waning with each passing moment. "Thank you, Lysander," he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. "Promise me... shield Hiraya... prevent her from succumbing to the fate of a Dragon Lord."
With solemn resolve, Lysander nodded, his commitment unwavering. "I promise," he vowed, the weight of his words echoing in the somber stillness.
With Alris's life extinguished, his once-vibrant hands grew cold, his gaze vacant and haunting.
"No... Alris!" My voice echoed, a raw, gut-wrenching cry that reverberated through the desolate landscape.
Tears streamed down my face, a torrential downpour of sorrow for the dragonoid who had been more than just a companion; he had been my confidant, my anchor. Each droplet that fell onto his still visage felt like a stab to my heart, a cruel reminder of the gaping void left in his wake. Recognizing the need for closure, Lysander tenderly closed Alris's unseeing eyes, a final act of respect for a fallen comrade.
Time seemed to blur, the minutes stretching into an eternity as we remained ensnared in our grief. Yet, reality intruded, a harsh reminder of the enormity of the tragedy that had befallen Tasty Town. The weight of countless lives lost threatened to engulf us, rendering my personal anguish secondary in the face of such devastation.
Gathering my shattered resolve, I pushed myself upright, my movements mechanical as I wiped away the tears that stained my cheeks. As I pivoted to face Lysander, his gaze met mine, a chilling void where warmth once resided. The emptiness in his eyes bore into me, a silent testament to the depths of his pain and the looming uncertainty that threatened to unravel the fragile threads of our existence.
"Why... Why did you shoot him?" Lysander's voice, a broken murmur, carried the weight of betrayal. "Alris... he was your lover, your future husband."
The words hung heavy in the air, a suffocating revelation that shattered the fragile remnants of our shared reality. Lysander's accusations, like venom, seeped into the wounds of my already aching heart.
"I did it to save you," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, the truth a bitter taste on my tongue.
Lysander's anguish erupted, a primal roar that echoed through the desolation, his accusatory finger pointing towards the obliterated remnants of Tasty Town. "I don't need saving! This is all bullshit!" he bellowed, the pain etched across his face mirroring the ruins that surrounded us. "I have nothing left. My town, my family, my friends, everything is gone! I've made everything worse!"
"But you still have me," I pleaded, a feeble attempt at solace. "We promised to save everyone, to prevent this future together."
Lysander's response was a torrent of despair, his words a harsh indictment of our futile efforts. "There's no one left to save! Haven't you grasped it, you fool? Gazelle spelled it out! You're a future Dragon Lord, the Oracle that spells humanity's demise!"
Dread clawed at my insides, the revelation hitting like an icy wave. "Was it true?" I stammered, my voice trembling.
"Everything he said is true!" Lysander's declaration cut through the air like a blade, his gaze filled with accusation and despair. "You're one of them—the ones who will bring about the end of us all!"
