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Feeling the cold and unforgiving steel of an arrow being pressed up against the back of their skull wasn’t a concept completely foreign to them and yet somehow it had felt just as horrible as the first time around.
A party, a banquet, red in themed but turned into a massacre. A ruse to bring them all here under the guise of togetherness. The promise of a reunion. ‘Turning over a new leaf’ as they had heard so many times over.
All they had wanted was for everything to return back to what it once was. That’s all they’ve ever wanted after the weight of their guilt had finally brought down their walls of confidence. Of false charisma. Of arrogance and greed. Swamped in the dying need for redemption, forgiveness, to undo the past.
They weren’t too sure why they had that much faith in the party planners. Those who were former friends of their own turned to nothing but mindless servants of an otherworldly creature. They had lost hope in them so long ago after attempts on their life were made as a ‘sacrifice’. Served on a silver platter alongside their hopes and dreams for a better future that were ultimately crushed.
Now they had to pay the price of their passiveness, their faithfulness, their own words as they screamed out against their former friends that they were nothing but heartless monsters.
With a bolt cocked and levelled to their head and the crushing pressure of a boot stamped down on their back, holding them down and erasing any thought of escaping from their spacey mind.
It was a blur. Everything from the end of their speech to the crossbow indented straight into their messy ponytail. One minute they spoke the words of harmony, of spreading peace across the lands, with a toast held up high in the air as Foolish cheered them on ecstatically, next they were being threatened with strings of executions. All the while as magma and boiling lava fell from the crevices amongst the nether wart walls, trailing down to try to lick at their heels.
Time didn’t seem to hold a linear schedule, skipping past in flashes as the voices around them rose in volume. All they knew was Foolish had held a hand over their own one minute and then within the next it was gone. Left them in a feeling of glacial coldness despite the flaringly high temperatures in the room.
They had been promised an execution only to be thrown away the minute he spoke up.
He had given up his life for them. He had died for them. He had gone out with a ‘noble’ sacrifice.
It was noble, extremely noble, don’t get them wrong, but it wasn’t deserved. They hadn’t deserved a second of his ever-so earnest kindness and they knew it. They knew it and how he didn’t shocked them. He had held them up to such a high regard but he had no reason to. They’ve done nothing but hurt others. He preached the tales of pacifism whilst they led warrior men down to their slaughter with an empty grin creasing upon their lips.
It had felt like a part of them had died the minute he had. It was a moment they’d never forget. Feeling as if their heart had been split in two just as the bloodily-slicked sword pierced through his golden skin. Tearing out both his heart and their own as the Demon carelessly threw the sword out of him. Letting him fall as they stood by doing absolutely nothing. All they could do was cry out for their friend as he left this realm in a mess of choked out gurgling and blood-filled words of resentment towards his murderers.
But weren't they one of them? They had killed him. They should’ve just taken the punishment placed above their head with their head held high in honour. The noble way out.
But no, they allowed him to get himself killed. It shouldn’t have been him. Anybody but him.
They weren’t too sure why they even had thought of that in the first place. They hadn’t known the man that well. Sure, they had visited him on multiple accounts and exchanged goods and services whenever needed. He had built magnificent castles with the simple ease of his fair and sandy palms and they had looked up to him tremendously for it. But had they ever known him? He would say they did. He’d say they lived a past life together so great, so splendid, and filled with only the most pleasant and jovial of adventures over their belts.
But they didn’t feel the same. Not just feel, they hadn’t a clue what he was talking about with those ‘memories’ that they apparently had forgotten of. Sure, the day they had first met had left them in such a heavy turmoil of undefinable deja vu, but that didn’t mean anything. It was just a series of…’coincidences’…that just keep piling up upon each other.
And now he was gone.
They knew deep down that he’d be back soon, that that had only been one of his lives out of three, but that never did anything to banish the guilt covering their eyes in everything they did. They felt terrible just allowing others to see them. To have to witness the survivor of a massacre still living. To see them torn down to an empty vessel for days on end as they wished and begged for him to be alright. For him to live again.
They felt disgusted with themself, the thoughts of ‘it was supposed to be them’ never leaving their mind as they did anything but breathe. Never taking a rest on their guilt. Even in their dreams, as sleep became lacking once nightmares of the event intertwined themselves with their already frightfully awful dreams of their haunting past.
They hadn’t left the castle in days. How many? They weren’t too sure, they stopped keeping track as the hours started to pass by leisurely.
They had tried to keep themself busy, working on weeks of late and overdue paperwork that had gotten out of hand, cleaning the entire place spotless, sending out letters of condolences to the fellow attendees with rose stamped envelopes.
It was the best they could do. They couldn’t leave, they couldn’t face anyone after that. Especially not their former knight, the mother of the one they had gotten killed. She wouldn’t blame them, they knew that much, but they couldn’t help but wish she did.
It took over a week for them to manage to step outside.
It was a rash and sudden decision after they had rather too quickly ran out of things to keep themself awake with and out of the clutches of their undying nightmares. It was a fleeting idea that made them finally dress themself presentable enough and step outside to the cold stone steps of their lonely castle with their crown hanging on the side of their belt.
They wanted to build him something to remember him by. A monument for his sacrifice. Historians did that, right? They were just following after their footsteps.
It took a mountainous amount of gold and emeralds but they didn’t regret a second of it. Only regretting their sleep deprivation as it made building significantly more difficult than it should be, only frustrating them even more as the idea of someone seeing them weighed heavy over their mind constantly as the seconds went by.
They had to stop once to mine out extra gold. That required going underground. Something that they had been unsure of ever doing again since the minute Purpled had freed them from that hell.
It was absolutely terrifying and no one could testify a whisper of their level of panic attacks. The level of fear in their whited-out eyes as they looked behind their back every few seconds, even pausing in the middle of actually mining to check their back yet again.
It was all for him though, it would be worth it in the end, that’s all they had to keep repeating in their head to keep going. To suffer through for another thirty minutes of tireless labour and ever shaky hands.
The one comfort they got in the pitch-blacked mines was from the golden watch still slung around their wrist from the ‘party’. From when he had given it to them without a single extra thought, nearly kneeing to hand it over to them as they stood completely stunned and flustered over the exchange. Taking the wristwatch with a beet-red face as dark as their own dress and a kind smile across their face that mirrored his own.
They hadn’t taken it off since that day. It’s been stuck to their arm like a handcuff, cuffed to their hope of him coming back. They knew he would, he had to, the deity of the sky itself couldn’t die that easily, but when was another question altogether.
As it turned out, it couldn’t have come early enough. He spotted them down from their scaffolding shortly after they had begun building and nearly jolted them right off it as they were throwing together the basic structure of his shrine. Nails held up by their teeth spat out in fear as he just waved at them as if everything was completely normal. Another sunny day on this server as he came to marvel at their own less-than great builds. At least that’s how they saw them, he thought they were on par with each other for some ungodly reason.
He had stumbled in with his tall stature and ever-smiling face despite their overlooming circumstances, darting straight towards them despite their shaking frame. Terrified for what’s to come. Racing thoughts reminding them of their faults along for the ride as he stood in front of them. How they didn’t deserve to be in his presence even now. How much he shouldn’t even care this much about them. How he should never have died for their meager self.
His shoulders were slumped and weighed down with undoubtable and clear exhaustion, patience stretched thin and weary. The aftermath of days of forced rest. Revivals were immobilising and hellishly painful to go through. They took days just to finish and even more to regain strength back. How he was up and about so fast was beyond them. They hadn’t felt the torture that is losing a life yet they should’ve- it was their fault they haven’t yet- but they had witnessed others suffer through it.
Tommy, the young boy who had his first life snuffed out under their very command, only to challenge his proxy murderer to a duel the very next day despite the bloody wounds still staining scarlets to his unkempt navy blue uniform.
And yet somehow, despite all of that, Foolish still grinned brightly at them like they were the light of his world. Overwhelmingly shining happiness in his face and yet they couldn’t help but flinch away from his rays of sun.
“It’s been awhile, old friend.” He greeted them as if the days prior had never happened, like he hadn’t watched them pressed to the ground with a bullet trained to their head, or as if they hadn’t seen the sword slashed through his abdomen in a blood-soaked massacre.
Why? How was a better question. They just could not bring themself to believe the man in front of them could possibly be laughing off his own death like it was just another normal day around here.
Their mouth opened to respond, formulate some sort of response, only to close repeatedly as they couldn’t find the air to voice their words. Their worries. How they haven’t slept properly in days in stricken fear over him.
“It’s only been a few days.” Eret wordlessly whispered out, somehow heard by the deity in front of their wide eyes as he blinked a few times at them in confusion.
“It’s been two weeks, Eret.” He corrected with his smile falling into one of underlying worry. How bad did it look on their part that the ‘sick’ one between them had better time keeping skills than them as they did nothing over those past two weeks. “You never said anything after,” He stammered to continue on, “and it was a little spooky, y’know, you’ve done this before and-“
He was doing that thing again, saying or references things that they’ve done without them having a speck of knowledge on whatever the hell he was on about. He spoke wonders of how they used to travel together, like he was another half to themself that they had never known existed.
They supposed, in a way, he was completely right. The minute they had laid their eyes on him felt like the most freeing moment they’d ever felt. No victory over war could compare to the millisecond they had met eyes and everything began to just make sense in its own little ways.
“You shouldn’t blame yourself, Eret!” He finished without them hearing over half of his heartfelt rambling, making them almost freeze up in the moment as if they had gotten caught red handed. Their own ruse of pretending as if they were completely alright was up. Destroyed alongside their memories of their life together.
“I’m not.” They had to force themself to take a deep breath, calming themself before attempting to soothe his understandable amounts of worries. “I’m not blaming myself, Foolish.”
“But you are! I know you! That’s why you’re building that!” He gestured wildly towards the totem monument in the making, jewelled emerald eyes shaking them from their stupor.
He didn’t know them. He didn’t know what they had have done. He didn’t know how they had agreed to a deal on a whim and blind faith only to lead their former family to their deaths. Pressing down a detonator of burning hatred that split their path away from their former countrymen and towards cold and unforgiving isolation.
But some part of them soared every single time they spoke to him, a rush of complete trust in the other before them as he spoke of anything and everything. Adoration in their earnest eyes as he reassured them over their faltering memories every time.
Their thoughts soared towards the answers that always seemed so far out of their reach. Locked behind veils and vaults of unattainable memories. It burned them a painful head-splitting headache every time they tried to make a passing grab for it, attempting to take a hold of their ‘past self’ that Foolish seemed to always speak of. It was just always so close just so far out of reach.
“Am I the first person you’ve visited?” They quietly asked back instead of continuing down the path that their conversation was bound to go down. Addressing their own issues instead of his own. They should be asking him if he was alright, not the other way around!
“Ah…” He laughed, actually giggling a little as he explained himself, sending them through at least five different sets of emotions at the cheerful sound. “You would’ve! But Puffy was the one looking after me for the first week. All repaired now!” He flashed his rough thumbs up in a double thumbs-up before falling into a fit of laughter again.
They couldn’t understand. How was he so careless? Why…Why wasn’t he mad at them? He should be! They killed him, it was all their fault and nothing but the ricochet effect of their own past wrongdoings coming back to haunt them.
He kicked around the stray pebbles on the ground with wooden sandals, bounding over to their side before they could try to stop him, staring up at the nearly finished totem with such marvel in his brightly green eyes.
It was only then that they fully took in how his normally bare chest was covered in bandages, a worn scar casting past its bindings and peeking out lightly to just torment them. Nauseous at the sight.
“This is really good though, Eret! You always manage to get the details just right, old friend.”
Their own white eyes trailed back up towards his green ones at the compliment, silently thanking him underneath their breath as they tried to take hold of their fastening and laboured breaths. This was too much. Too much at once. They couldn’t handle seeing his smiling face after all that. After it had gotten wiped clean from his face once a sword was forcibly stabbed through him. After they had collapsed at his mother’s side with sobs and tears streaking down their own face.
“Eret?” He more quietly prodded at them, hushing his voice in such intensive care as they nearly backed away from him. “Are you alright?”
Of course he’d ask them that, it was in his nature.
“I should be asking you that!” They nearly cried out, breathing still put on a standstill between hyperventilating and completely holding their breath in fear. A stammer of stumbling apologises escaped their lips as they turned away from his now outreached hand.
“I couldn’t have them kill you, Eret, not you. I would’ve never forgiven myself had you died.” He more softly spoke, still wrestling to wrap a hand around their middle as they refused to look up into his caring eyes.
“It should’ve been me! Foolish! You don’t understand that!” They chokingly sobbed out, holding back days upon days of empty crying. “I was supposed to die! Not you! You shouldn’t have sacrificed yourself like that!”
“What?!” He practically whispered out in a gasp, face crumbling alongside their own as he shook his head repeatedly, shocked to hear them say the truth. “I would give up all of my lives over and over again just to save one of yours, please-“
“Don’t say that, you don’t know me, Foolish!” They cut him off with a trembling and low voice. “And I don’t know you! We barely know each other. You keep saying we do but I don’t know that side of you! I don’t know what we ‘supposedly’ used to be.”
“But we do know each other. Maybe you don’t remember it all yet but you will soon! I told you, we’re going to work on those memories of yours.” He knocked a calmly hand up to bump against their messily unbrushed hair. “You’re going to be as good as new in no time!”
They couldn’t believe it, even as his hand calmly sank to cup the side of their face as they leaned into the lovely gesture, they couldn’t bring themself to believe his kind words.
He apparently knew they wouldn’t either as he continued on to ramble of their ‘greatness’ with utter adoration and devotion washing across his sandy face. “You were a mighty being, Eret. You’ve saved my life so many times, and I know you don’t remember it, but I swear on my life that you have! I needed to repay you.” He pulled them closer, resting their head against his chest as he moved his hand to run loosely through their curls. “I did my job as a totem of undying, I protected you from death.”
“You were supposed to be undying.” They softly argued back with a painfully cracking voice, pressing their forehead up to the only source of comfort they could get.
“It was for the better.” He whispered back, changing his hand placement to rub at their back as his words single handedly made the waterworks start streaming down their face, sobbing brokenly into his bandaged chest without a second to recoup. Only able to tightly wrap their own arms around his middle as if they’d lose him again if they ever let go of the heavy pressure.
He didn’t judge them. Never once since their first fateful meeting reunion?. All he ever did was care for them like they were on a pedestal, but never above nor below him, as equals above the other mortals around them. Gods amongst men.
As he told it, it seemed like they were.
Unlike those in the past, he never made side comments or glares towards them when they let an inch of their calm mask slip. He only wiped away their tears with a soft hum and mumbled out reassurances as they broke down to pieces in front of his very own eyes, picking up the stray shards along the way.
“I can help you finish this.” He spoke up, once they had begun to calm down, with such a high amount of excitement to continue building after being put on medical leave for weeks, it was heartwarming to hear. “Then we can get you all cleaned up.”
It wasn’t that hard to notice how little they’ve been taking care of themself since that day but the admission of it made their face burn in a pale pink slatter of shame. He only held onto them comfortingly at the notice. Not a single bit of judgement on his charming face.
Despite all this, despite their past and even more unknown previous life spent with him, he was always ready to help them get back on track. Be the fair and caring ruler they’ve always wanted to be with him by their side the entire time.
“I’d like that, Foolish.” They managed to smile back, turning into simple ease as he returned the light grin gracefully.
They’d be okay. He’d be okay. As long as they stood together, they would be alright in the end, no matter what happens to them.