[PP - F2] The Rose and the Player Killer [Alkor] [Complete]

[Lessa 1]

She had found out earlier that morning.

Lessa had been nestled deep under the quilts of her guild's inn's bed. Wrapped in a warm cocoon, she had been content to simply watch the snow pile up outside her window. There had been a lot of it in the past eight hours, and the drift that pushed against the glass covered nearly half of it. Lessa had sighed, the sight reminding her of the hard winters she had experienced back home. Home. She found herself thinking less of the real world these days. Now, her dreams of returning home were replaced by dreams of those she cared about within the world of SAO. The friends she had made, and the bonds she had built. That thought had prompted her to open her menu, and scroll through her contacts. It had been a while since she had last seen Alkor. And on that morning, she had felt fearless. Her happiness and eagerness to see him had motivated her to invite him for lunch.

But everything had come to a halt when she saw his red name.

At first, she had figured it had been a mistake. A glitch, she had thought frantically. Scrolling through her remaining contacts, she had wanted to see what else had changed; who else this glitch had affected. When she saw that only Mari's name was also red, she had given a choked sob. Her mind had raced to formulate some sort of logical explanation, and the one it had given her was far from pleasant.

So she had sent him a message. Her hands shook so badly as she typed it that the short message had taken three tries.

Quote

Alkor, please meet me outside the High Fields of Crossing. Thanks.

Now, Lessa stood alone at the meeting place. The ankle-high grass kissed her with each passing breeze, but she paid it no mind. Her blue eyes were clouded, as expressionless as the rest of her features. She did not feel the sun on her face, hear the wind through the grass, smell the sweet aroma of nearby roses. There was nothing but the immense pain in her heart.

She needed to know the truth of what happened, and she had to hear it from Alkor directly. The guild leader worried that she already knew what he would tell her. And what if her suspicions were correct? Her body tensed as she was overcome with an incredibly unpleasant sensation. What if it was true after all?

Edited October 11, 2017 by Lessa

[Guest]

He walked quietly to the meeting place that, once upon a time, she had called him to. After their first meeting, when she had wanted to do nothing more than talk. Alkor held no delusions about the subject matter surrounding this talk.

It may have been easier just to toggle to quit guild option than face Lessa here, but Alkor was neither pathetic nor a coward. He saw her, but he knew that all she would be looking at as he approached was his name. Painted in bloody red.

Was that really all that serious? Alkor certainly didn't care. It wasn't like he was going around doing it all the time. He didn't just go killing random players for no reason.

When he stopped right in front of her, he folded his arms and waited. He'd let her take the first words. The newly blooded swordsman had no idea what to say.

[Lessa 1]

The moment she saw him approaching, she turned her back to him. So it is not just a glitch in my menu, she thought to herself, closing her eyes tightly. When she opened them again, they shone with the first sign of tears. But she bit the inside of her cheek, hard, fighting to keep the tears from falling. Crying now would do her no good.

She heard the grass crunch beneath his boots, and when all sound ceased, she could feel his presence directly behind her. But she could not turn around. Her stomach had already tied itself into knots at the thought of him being a player killer, and if she looked at him, she might be sick. Or those tears would finally fall. Or maybe both.

"Alkor," she began, her voice level and emotionless. Internally, she battled to keep the feeling from her tone, but that was not so obvious on the surface. This was a conversation between a guild leader and her member. This was not personal, or so she had convinced herself while waiting for him to arrive. It couldn't be personal. If she let it be, she may just lose it.

"Please tell me what happened."

[Guest]

"I was called," he began, "by another player who was- the way they told the story- in great danger." His version of the story was distant, detached. He'd been more of a witness than an involved party, right up until the very end. Then, he had acted- calmly, cooly, but vividly on emotions driven by justice.

"The player was holding a small girl hostage. A child, no older than four or five. In Sword Art Online." His fist was clenched tight. "And he tricked her mother into killing her."

Alkor was staring at the red name in his HUD now, considering it. If that situation came up again, he still would have run the monster through. He still would have watched the blood leave the other player's body, transfixed, sad, but stoic.

"I gave him the chance to fight for his life," he said. How would he tell her he killed him? How would he admit it? He already had. All that was left to do was confirm it completely.

"And when he died, I looked him in the eye."

[Lessa 1]

As he told his story, she felt herself growing even more conflicted than she had been before. He spoking of seeking justice for a little girl and her mother, and putting an end to not a man, but a monster. It all sounded so harmless when he said it said it like that, in that voice which had always brought her comfort. In fact, it sounded heroic.

But he had still killed another player. She vivdly remembered him speaking of player killers, and how completely twisted they were. How could a person kill another, when there was already so much danger programmed into SAO? It was senseless.

But he did it for the woman, and the child, part of her argued. But she still had a difficult time converting herself fully to that mindset. A few weeks ago, perhaps she would of. But she was again reminded of how he had behaved in the Clash of Blades tournament. The dead look in his beautiful amber eyes. The way he had held her close, and run her through with his blade. The way he had continued to beat her down when he knew she was long since defeated. That had been the work of a monster. Maybe this had been too.

She took a deep breath. Finally, she spoke. She still could not look at him. She could not face him yet. "Alright, thank you."

[Guest]

Alkor nodded, and like a knight given leave by his liege lord, turned to leave. There was nothing to say after her thanks had been given; moments, perhaps hours from now, when she had spent enough time alone with her thoughts, she would decide whether or not to allow him to remain in the guild. She'd say whether or not she wanted to continue being friends, and Alkor would continue as a part of this game and world.

When he went home, if he ever went home, he'd get to remember that he'd been a murderer. He'd always live with a living being's blood on his hands from the moment his blade leaked the last of the life from Uriel. It was such a strange feeling.

He had come here solely for that? Lessa wanted his explanation, and he had given it. He would not plead his case like some worthless, lesser creature. The woman could make her decision, rationally or emotionally, and perhaps it would never hurt his feelings. And even if it did, who would ever know?

There was a future in this game until they reached the final boss. That was the truth of it. Whether or not that future included friendship between these two players, Alkor would remain no less committed to the people trapped inside the death game. He would continue to fight, and kill if he had to.

He hated what he'd had to do. Perhaps he'd never come to terms with it. It was so hard, showing nothing, but he'd done it for so long that he couldn't do anything else. He'd already started walking, staring out at the plains on the second floor. He could see the city, where he could not go, just beyond reach.

How quickly things became complicated.

[Lessa 1]

The edge of his long cloak brushed the backs of her legs as he turned, and she listened to Alkor take his leave.

So that was it, then? A brief exchange, and they would go their separate ways? It made sense, in a way. All she had wanted was an answer, and he had given that to her. He had nothing else to offer, and she had no further questions. So why did something still feel unfinished between the two of them? Why did she still feel unsatisfied?

Lessa had expected an entirely different story. Though she was embarrassed to admit it, she had foolishly concluded that he and Mari decided to start killing together. It was so wrong, and the thought made her a bit lightheaded, especially considering what had really happened. But in her shocked state, her mind had done the best with what it had known. Mari, who Alkor had once threatened, but now behaved as if they were old friends. Mari, who coincidentally picked up a red name at the same time Alkor did. It had all made sense at the time, but now it just made her feel bad for thinking it.

The Guardian leader whipped around. "Alkor," she barked. He had already put quite a bit of distance between the two of them, so when she spoke again, she was forced to half-shout. "I would have done the same thing."

[Guest]

He turned to look over his shoulder at her. She spoke kind words, but that's all they were. "No," he called back. "No, you wouldn't have."

He shifted his body to face her, a sad smile on his face. "You're not like me, Lessa. You've always believed, even foolishly at times, in the good inside people. And that's not a bad thing."

He shrugged. "Maybe that player could have found his way to a safe, confined place where he could sit and think about what he'd done if you had found him. He'd still be alive. He'd have to live with what he did." Now, only Alkor would remain to remember, to live with the memory, and to pay for the blood that had been shed.

"You have what it takes to lead, and that's just as important in this world as doing what has to be done." In a moment of awkward silence, Alkor turned his body fluidly from her and began to leave anew. "Lead the Guardians to the top, Lessa."

He waved his hand, never looking back. "I'll see you on the Front Lines."

[Lessa 1]

"If it had been you in trouble," she replied plainly, "I would have."

She did not want to let those words hang too long, as they were a bit more forward than Alkor would probably appreciate. They could certainly be understood as a guild master looking out for her guild, but she meant it differently, and she suspected he knew that.

"You did what you felt was right," she continued. "You looked out for another player, and were there in her time of need. If it came down to bloodshed, I truly believe it was the only possible answer." She paused, then shook her head. "If that act is not deserving of the title 'Guardian,' I don't know what is."

She had done her best to keep the emotion from her voice, and for the most part, Lessa had succeeded. But when she spoke the final words, they were dotted with hints of sadness. "Though, I admit, I will never understand your fascination with walking out on me."

[Guest]

"I want to believe that," he whispered, "I want to believe so much that it were such a simple decision. I wish it didn't hide beneath my eyelids and jump at me when I closed my eyes." His bowed head gave him the look of a man at prayer. Hopeless and lost, fervently searching somewhere beyond himself for answers. He turned and stared pointedly at her, and his voice rose. "I believe you'd do right by every one of your guild members, but I can't imagine you taking a life."

His steps were so quick, it was as though he were not even thinking when he took them. It was only the span of an instant that brought him face to face with her, knees on the ground as he looked up and searched in her eyes for what he just could not find in himself.

There was innocence and goodness in Lessa, in a way that Alkor had never encountered. But she was a hardened leader, careful and thoughtful in all her decisions. The strength she had was a different kind from his. He found himself shaken at the core in spite of the ineffable tenacity he showed whenever it came time to take action. There were people like Lessa, who brought things together, and people like Alkor, who executed on those plans. Together they were what made the world go round.

Still, she insisted he was important to her, and all the times she had said as much, it had never been about the guild. He had every reason to suspect that there was nothing different about this instance. "Tell me to stay," he said, turning his gaze to the grass, "and I will stay. All I want to know is why."

[Lessa 1]

It was as if something had snapped in him. Before she understood what was going on, he was at her feet, his amber eyes finding her blue ones with such urgency. And the words he spoke to her, filled with so much pain and confusion. What had happened to him? In that moment, he had changed completely. This was the side of him that she had waited to see for so long. The emotion she had pestered him about for as long as she had known him. And now, with everything she had wanted right in front of her, she felt her heart breaking. "Oh Alkor," she whispered breathlessly.

He was so lost, and she was so helpless. Did I do this? What could she do? She wanted to give him words of wisdom, and advice to help him on his way. That was what she would normally do in this situation. But Alkor was different. Alkor was a strong man who, for whatever reason, let his walls down for her. She could not rationalize this one, or think it over. This was raw emotion, and demanded nothing less in return.

In one fluid, practiced motion, Lessa unequipped her gauntlets. Then, she too fell to her knees. She had to touch him. This urge she had briefly experienced before now overwhelmed her. Reaching out a steady hand, she pressed her palm to his cheek gently. "Stay," she began softly, "because I need you. I need you near me. I don't care if it is as my friend, or my guild mate, but I need you in my life." Her words flowed without thought, but she could do nothing to stop them. "You make me feel safe. I remember thinking that the moment I met you, and nothing has changed my mind. Not the duel, not the red name, not anything."

[Guest]

It should be so easy. Alkor managed not to shrink away when his face was touched, but as she continued to speak, his eyes shrank from wide, confused orbs to two dull pools of stagnant water. They flickered and wavered as he tore his gaze from hers, wanting no more of her attention, of the sentiments she was offering. It really should.

If not for the digital nature of this world, where imaging reset at certain intervals and anything not saved to preferences faded away, the blood would still be on his face. The warmth of her hands only served to rekindle the heat in his cheeks, like a feverish and debased lover's touch. He felt mountains of shame bearing down on him.

There were many things he had thought he would never do- murder had been among them. Now, though, he was a killer. The act was a blight he could not ink out of his story. Yet, oddly, he felt nothing. Not the desire to take it back, nor the feeling that it was wrong.

Just that Lessa was judging him for it.

"No," he hissed, taking her wrists and wrenching her hands free of his face. "Not like this. I can't protect anyone like this."

Alkor felt torn for the first time in his life. There had been so many conflicts, but all of them had been ended decisively. This was a new experience, and he did not like it at all. "There are things that need to be done," he said as he calmly rose to his feet, arms hanging limp at either side. "It's not that easy. "It's alright" will never suffice, ever again. I've got to prove something to myself."

It couldn't just be for Lessa. It had to be for everyone who he had failed. Perhaps especially her, but most of all, for his own good. Alkor had always been detached, aloof, cold. Perhaps those things were a credit to him.

So much blood. He stared, dumbly, drunkenly beyond Lessa, at a world in waiting. "I need to be stronger. Stronger than this. I never understood that before now."

[Lessa 1]

As his brown eyes grew damp with tears, Lessa took a surprised, unsteady breath. What was happening to him? Maybe she was reaching him after all. She had shared her feelings with him, feelings that she had kept bottled up for so long. She had not wanted to push him away, or make her feel uncomfortable. But the moment had felt right, and she had taken a risk. His tears, and the sweet tenderness he was showing her suggested maybe it had been the right move.

But then he jerked her hands away. It caught her off guard, and as he threw them aside, she lost her balance. The girl tipped, crashing to the ground with a soft cry. Her heavy claymore was caught beneath her body as she fell, shoving painfully into her small frame. Out of instinct, she shifted her weight to ease the pain. But she was too shocked to sit upright.

Lessa stared up at Alkor with wide, confused eyes. In another instant, he had transformed again. She felt a bit like she was drowning, unable to keep up with the rough, changing waters that were Alkor's emotions.

"You will be stronger," was all she could manage, watching him from her place in the grass. "You'll get there."

[Guest]

The silence was born of a realization. Alkor did not trust himself to speak, and he was unsure of exactly how he felt. Lessa offered consoling words and supportive thoughts, but until he had come to this place, until he had felt her words and questions probing him, he had been precise. Efficient. Everything had made sense, and what had to be done had been done. Lessa was the factor, somehow, that threw a wrench in the gears.

Anyone else could have scolded him, and he would have felt very little deterrence. Now, in the instant his strength had wavered, he found himself in chains he had not seen before. He was uncertain of everything.

Fractured golden husks studied Lessa. Their places had switched, but their mental states were remarkably similar. Erratic, damaged, confused. There was a cold indifference in Alkor that Lessa probably recognized as characteristic of the Alkor she had always known. What she didn't know was that when he did, Alkor sought refuge from the chaos of a world vast beyond anything he had ever believed. Now, with the ceiling collapsed, he was struggling to find cover where there was none to find.

She said he would be stronger, and in that, Alkor knew that Lessa was right. All Alkor knew was the struggle to become greater. The only thing that kept him going was the desire to be the best and protect everyone. Though he had faltered, and a life had ended by his hand, his tenacity had been renewed. Perhaps that tenacity had even been intensified.

The man, however, was lost.

"I have to," he said at last. He resigned himself to that. Alkor couldn't just tell her goodbye and leave. In his soul, perhaps, somewhere, he could not shut her out. She was a friend, through persistence and words that had wounded him through his seemingly impregnable defense. "I have to get stronger. There's no will. There's no question."

How she had seeped in like a poison through cracks made him feel weak. The fact that he couldn't just turn away and walk off like he always did, the fact that it hurt him to even consider it made him falter again and again.

He reached out with both hands, cradling her face gently in both palms. His body shook. "Why are you in my head," he whispered. "You're under my skin, you're in between every breath." Alkor fought with himself not to let his anger out. He let her go rather than clench her face in a deathgrip, hands trembling, hovering mere inches from her flesh. It would have been so easy to give in to the temptation to kill again. To be free. To rip apart the one thing that stood between him and clarity.

He was eerily calm in spite of the drivel spouting from his lips. Alkor was done with the script, and saying what he knew, or what felt comfortable. He had come to an uncharted territory. "I want to be free," he admitted, "but if I have to lose you to do that, I can't. I can't make that decision. You said you need me; here I am. You asked me to stay, and I have. I can't be free, not ever again."

His hands froze, ceased in their shaking, and he let both arms fall. "God, I'm pathetic," he choked, but no more tears came. "What is this awful feeling?"

[Lessa 1]

He held her face in his hands, and though his body shook and his eyes burned, his touch was remarkably gentle. She let out what breath was left in her lungs in a small, surprised puff. His words worked to tear the poor girl in two. Of course, the pain that he was experiencing was a knife to her heart as well. She cared so deeply for Alkor, and seeing him in such a state was nerve wracking to say the least. She was dumbstruck, and the woman who once prided herself on her ability to help others found that she was at a complete loss. The swordsman with the brown hair did not need her words of advice, nor did he need her touch. He needed an escape, and according to him, it was she he was escaping from.

But she could not do it. As much as she wanted to ease Alkor's pain, she could not bring herself to release him. This situation had revealed just how deeply she felt for him. She wanted him to succeed, and she wanted him to be happy. Lessa wanted the man to defeat his demons, but not at the price of their friendship.

Lessa understood just how selfish she was being, but she needed him. She needed the sweet smell of his cloak, and the way the wind toyed with his brown hair when his hood fell away. She needed the sound of her voice, the praise and the criticism alike. She needed the way she felt when he met her gaze, touched her back, or said her name. She needed the feeling of his body on hers, like the day she had given him his blade, and the day he had run her through with it.

The irony was not lost on her, of course. Alkor made her feel safe, and she made him feel vulnerable. He brought her such joy, and she caused him great pain. He gave her freedom, and she was his captor. How had things become so twisted?

Slowly, the woman climbed to her feet. Her cheeks were pink and warm to the touch, and her blue eyes were rimmed with tears of confusion, sadness, and shame. But she did not hesitate as she found Alkor's gaze. She did not touch him, as it was impossible to determine if there was anything she could do to comfort him.

No, that is not true, she thought. I am lying to myself. I know exactly what I have to do to help him. She had to set him free, allowing him to go on without her in his life. She complicated his simple world, and made him doubt everything he knew. The result was painful to watch, and even more painful to experience. The woman could not imagine what monsters raged inside Alkor at that very moment, and how desperately he fought to keep them at bay.

But I am too weak.

"You are not pathetic," came her reply. "You are human."

Then she gave a soft sigh. Lessa closed her eyes for a beat, then met his gaze once more. "I never meant for this to happen. I never wanted you to feel this way, and I do not want you to be in pain." Her words grew softer as she added, "please, if you know nothing else of me, know that I care for you so much."

A single tear escaped, cascading down her cheek, but she wiped it away quickly. She would not allow this situation to become her own pity-party. This was Alkor's time, not hers. But seeing him like this, fragile and hopeless, put her in a similar state of mind.

"I don't know what you're feeling, Alkor," she concluded. Then, with a small, forced laugh, "hell, I don't know what I am feeling."

[Guest]

He staggered back from her and held out a hand to ward her away. "Stop. Just stop." Her words were like daggers. Everything she said made no sense. She was so willing to need him that she was unwilling to let him go. Her emotions were like shackles fitted tight on his wrists and ankles, never to let go. "I... I've got to go."

As he turned, the first two steps seemed awkward, nubile- like the first a child took in their life. It became easier with practice- just like it had, so many times before, to turn away from her. Just keep walking.

He shook his head as the desire to run crept up on him. To be free, he could have ran to the edge of the floor and beyond. In Aincrad, he might never be free of these choking thoughts. But in that beyond, perhaps, he might find release.

"I've... I've got..." he rasped, no longer speaking to Lessa. He hated her, but he couldn't blame her. He wanted her gone, but he wanted to hug her tight. Tears spilled down his cheeks, stained the ground, and he stumbled and shook. "I've got to be stronger..."

He fell to his knees, fifteen feet or so away from her. "Just leave me alone," he sobbed. "Just leave me alone! I knew which way to go before this. I don't care about your sympathy, or your needs," he gasped for air and turned to scream more, "I don't care about your anger, or your sadness, or your pain!"

He pointed at her, shaking, sobbing. "I don't care! I don't! I... don't... damn it..." he whispered, sagging to a messy, deject pile on the floor. "Why... do I care...?"

[Lessa 1]

Completely horrified, the young woman took a panicked step backwards. Again, her sympathy had been met with nothing but harsh words and irrational behavior. What am I doing wrong? Her mind frantically raced to create some sort of explanation, to provide her with some sort of Plan B. But there was nothing. Alkor gave her nothing to work with, and left her utterly clueless. There was no pattern here. He would drop down to his knees before her, but shy away from her touch. He tore her hands away from his face, put placed his own hands on hers only moments later. She had no idea what he was doing, but to be fair, she suspected he had no idea what he was doing either.

 

She watched him, silent and unmoving, as he tore away from her. But this time, she was not watching a strong, determined young man take his leave of her. He did not walk with long, confident strides, nor did he carry himself like a true warrior. No, this time, he was running. He was literally running from her. So grief-stricken that he could hardly breathe through his sobs, he was trying to rid himself of her. And, needless to say, it killed her.

 

There were no words for her to say now. She had exhausted her vocabulary, trying to piece together meaningful, uplifting sentiments. Nothing had worked. What Lessa was experiencing was something unlike she had ever seen before, and that left her feeling confused, hurt, and a mixture of other, equally negative emotions.

 

Maybe he was right. Maybe the best thing for both of them would be for her to turn her back and walk away. She could just leave this place, and him, behind forever. She would never return to this meadow, and she knew he would leave her guild the moment he had the chance. It would be easier than she expected to erase him from her life. She was in too deep, and she knew it. Lessa recognized that she felt too strongly for this young man, and nothing good could come of it. Besides, she was only hurting him. That much, at least, he had made painfully clear to her.

 

But as she looked at his pitiful, shaking frame, the young woman knew she would never be able to rid herself of him. His memory would haunt her like a ghost, and she would never be able to function within the world of SAO without at least knowing if he was alright.

 

So she softly moved up behind him. Lessa fell to her knees a few feet away, but kept a cautious gaze on him the entire time.

 

"It is alright if you don't care about me," she told him, finally. "But I care about you. And I'm so sorry if that causes you pain. But I can't help it, Alkor. I just can't."

[Guest]

"Why," he rasped, rising slowly, not daring to look up, not ever meeting her gaze. "Why?" His shaking hands reached out for her shoulders, rested on them, pulled her close. In a fit of rage, he shook her violently. "Why!? Your eyes are on me all the time. I don't know where I'm going anymore!"

Alkor finally met her gaze, but he did so as he fell over on top of her, knees on either side of her. His hands trembled with inhuman vigor toward her throat. He wanted to choke her, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. "Every part of me tells me you're the one thing between me and that freedom, Lessa. You."

His eyes stared down into hers. "So fragile," he whispered. "So tender. You could die just as easily as any mob in this game." He shivered, hating the words coming from his lips. "But madly, I can't. As easy as killing Uriel was, he was a cancer. You're good. You're wonderful. You've been nothing short of amazing since we met. You never gave up on the disaster that I was. Am. Will always be."

He punched her shoulder, albeit weakly. He couldn't even imagine hurting her. "I want to hate you," he sobbed. "I want to hate everything. It just isn't who I am."

Standing numbly, he reached down for her and bowed his head. "I'm sorry Lessa," he shook his head. "I'm not strong. I'm not... enough." He winced and bit back another sob. "I can't stop hating myself for failing you. I can't stop caring about what you think of me, or what I do."

He closed his eyes. "No more. No... more... emotions. Please..."

[Lessa 1]

Her lips parted as she went to speak. Why, he had asked her. Because he was the closest thing she had to family in SAO. Because every morning when she woke up, she checked her friends list to ensure that he was still there, that he was still alive. Every evening, before drifting off, she did the same. He occupied her thoughts all of the time. Was it romance? Maybe not. But it was real, whatever it was. He had become a brother to her in the short time she had known him, and the thought of anything happening to him made her sick.

 

But she did not have the opportunity to tell him all of this. In an instant, he was on her. He did not even give her time to wonder if he was going for a hug. Instead, he grabbed her firmly by the shoulders and shook her. Her blonde hair rocked back and forth with her body, and when he finally let go, her bangs fell into her red, tear-framed eyes. Why was he shaking her like this? How could he be so close to her, yet remain so distant? And why was he yelling?

 

She crashed to the ground as he released her, the grass doing its small part to cushion her fall. But she still let out a small, pathetic whimper as he climbed on top of her. His knees dug into her sides, and his legs gripped her tightly as he leaned down toward her face. She wanted so badly to look away, but she could not. Those amber eyes that had captivated her the day they met now drew her in like a siren's song, promising an end to her faith in him and possibly even her life.

 

Once, the words he spoke to her now may have brought a childish blush to her cheeks. But now, they mocked her. He spoke so highly of her, yet kept her pinned to the ground like some sort of animal. She squirmed once, twice, then fell still. Her tears fell more steadily now, racing down her colorless face as she stared up at him. Her body racked with sobs beneath him. All of the pent-up emotions from the past hour came racing forward as sheer panic.

 

"Alkor, please," Lessa sobbed, screwing her eyes closed tightly so she would not have to look at his face any longer. "I'm so sorry. I am. I never... I never... oh God, I'm sorry. Please."

[Guest]

He turned away from her tears. Alkor... no... Thom had never been able to cope with the emotions of others, the same way he could barely come to terms with his own. A wall of apathy closed him off from every other person in SAO, and though he vowed to free them all, he had always been alone.

Until Lessa. Until this wretched, wonderful woman played her trumpets and brought down Jericho. And instead of hating her for it, Alkor felt lost for the first time since the beginning of this game. For all that, he denied her the satisfaction of a human moment. He couldn't bring himself to do it.

He would not ask that she stop crying. He couldn't even ask for her to move without feeling like a terrible person. Instead, he stood vigil over her to ensure she would be safe from other players until she felt well enough to rise.

Like her personal sentinel, Alkor watched steadfast as day flickered away into quiet night on the horizon. That simply, he had taken her prisoner and set her free. Why she could not have done that same kindness for him, he would never understand- nor did he need to.

His silence had been the only virtue he had even known. He offered that to Lessa as penance for what he had done, and yet, it would never be enough. His eyes swept over the plains that stretched out before him, stained with tears, burning.

Please, he recalled the words, the same sort of pleas he had given her to leave him be. To let him go free. Why was it he did it, though she had not? Alkor sighed- this was the strangest, most convoluted version of kindness he had ever heard of. I'm not free, air snorted from his nostrils as he gave a quiet chuckle. I may never be again. I suppose I'm alright with that. As a payment of a debt. I owe her that much.

He glanced back at her after what must have been hours. Alkor waited patiently.