[SP-F?] Upside

[Azide 0]

Light crumbled away as far as the eye could see, like a forgotten palace of sand. From where he stood, the whole world seemed to recede at an alarming, impossible rate. The whole scene felt reminiscent of the old "breaking bridge" cliche he'd seen played out in a number of movies, most of which had been worth a considerably lesser amount of laughs. But that was fine by him- this was hardly the time or place for a live studio audience. This was death: a rather personal thing, no matter how thoroughly it flaunted itself to the masses. And if they truly wished to laugh, then that was no skin off his nose- but they'd do it on their own time; this was a moment all his own. 

It hadn't been the first time, but it seemed safe to say it'd be his last: the boy found himself at a loss for words. In the heat of the moment, every little sentiment felt trivial, and at the same time, essential. His lips were but two humble gates- only so much could pass through them at once without jamming them up altogether. They creaked open, seemingly of their own accord, but when the time came to speak, all he could find was a dryness in his mouth and a lump in his throat. 

To tell the truth, he wished he'd had a few parting words ready to go. Witty, poignant or even scathing... the particulars weren't too important, as unintuitive as that might seem. So long as they were memorable. 

The boy blinked slowly, a dull ache in his eyes throbbing with every dart and roll. Red, blue, and green- each hue bled together, as if some trickster had come along and plucked from the world every outline and border. Freed from their confines, the colors poured themselves from the world, flowing off to somewhere far and away. Aincrad was graying right before him, and he shuddered at the realization.

Icy eyes, his own, glistened with a colorless sheen. For what it was worth, he figured it might be blood or sweat, or perhaps it'd simply begun to rain. Considering the circumstances at hand, there was really no way to be sure.

Through the glassy veil, he stared at the young man standing before him, keeping as straight of a face as he could manage with a blade lodged in him. Even then, he had the feeling that the look in his own eyes gave away a little more than he'd care to share. A fair amount of confusion and a hint of anger- but for the most part, it was disappointment which took home the lion's share. Just the thought of that look brought forth some rather unpleasant memories. His fingers tensed around the grips of his twin blades, a phantom frown tugging at the corner of his lip.

For a brief moment, he could feel those emotions manifesting within his hands- a pair of tightly curled fists, they shook violently, a sword buried stubbornly within each, as if he were strangling them. He refused to go out that way- full of vitriol and hate to the bitter end. Not like his old man. Never like him.

He winced, and tensed on instinct as the cold steel was ripped unceremoniously from his flesh. He watched as the young man- his former friend and ally- turned tail and walked off without so much as a backward glance. Though the gleaming blade had retained its spotless edge, blood had not failed to stain something today.

With little left to be said or done, the boy shuffled slowly forward, until he came to a halt before the massive double doors for which they'd arrived. Laying the flat of his palm against the heavy wood, he eased the structure open and aimed a quick glance to the bar hovering at the corner of his vision.

How much further would he have come? And had he found a home for himself in this world- just for a moment? And then there was Kiru... 

Kiru, Kiru, Kiru.

A slight shake of his head. Time was running out- and he would allow no one here today the pleasure of seeing him die. And so he stepped forward into the darkness, letting the ancient gates slam shut behind him. 

Darkness, followed in lockstep by more of the same. Raising his sleeve, he dabbed at his eyes as the final slivers of the bar subsided.

~

Pale light seeped in through the lids of his eyes, stirring him from what'd seemed like a dreamless sleep. Still heavy with the lethargy of slumber, he forced them to flutter open. Even before he'd had the chance to fully take in his surroundings, it hadn't slipped past him that something about all of this was incredibly odd. But the further he examined the scene, the more and more confusing the matter became. Red, red and more red- the same color all around, accented by tones of gold and a few touches of lavender. He lifted himself from the carpeted ground, which itself was dyed a rich shade of crimson, and stared at his fingers as they flexed inwardly ever-so-carefully.

After two long years, had he finally made his escape? He almost didn't dare to check. But in the end, he glanced over to the edge of his sight, his lungs making hostages of the air within them all the while.

"No way," came a voice. "Zelrius?"

The boy whipped the entirety of his body around on command, his eyes widening as he struggled to make sense of the sight. It was a man, perched rather comfortably upon a throne which towered at the front of the chamber. Cedar brown hair which swept past a pair of sharp eyes and a jacket as green as any pine- he knew this man. Frankly, he wasn't quite sure what to make of it; perhaps that drink back there had been a little stronger than what he'd expected.

For a while, the brunette rubbed at his chin, eyeing the golden-haired boy as if he'd just discovered another piece in an already-finished jigsaw puzzle. Finally, he rolled his hands and shoulders into shrug. His lips twitched, quickly taking the form of an infectious smile. "You didn't really think you were finished just yet, did you?" asked Azide, delivering the words with a slight turn of his head. "Sorry," he continued, his fingers drumming softly against the golden railings of the throne. "But I get the feeling that you're not all that disappointed."

~

To be continued.

Edited April 15, 2016 by Azide