TW/CW: vomiting, dead bodies, blood

~Gemini~

I was panting, staggering as I attempted to pull myself up and over the ledge. I was trying not to use too much magic, trying not to draw too much attention to the fact I was trying to scale a cliff.

Although the earthquakes had relatively subsided from yesterday, when Fwhip set off the reactor, there was still an occasional rumble...the earth wasn't willing to put us totally at ease yet.

Now, nearly a day after the meeting within the Derelict Forest, we had lost contact with several others. The few who answered included me, my brother, Jimmy, Katherine, Joel, Sausage and Pixl.

But there was no sign of Pearl, Joey, Lizzie, Shrub or Scott.

So, I had been tasked, with finding one of them as everyone else had. Specifically, Scott.

I just hoped the reason he wasn't answering was that he still didn't know how to use his communicator. 

The path leading along the edge of the valley, up to the main plateau Rivendale was set upon, had collapsed. So now, I had to struggle my way up the steep edge of the slope. I had chosen the most gradual route, and even then, it was a rather sheer mountain. But I was getting there.

I had to take long breaks between short periods of climbing. My lungs begged for oxygen at the exertion of my arms as I painstakingly pulled myself up onto ledges, but the smoke in the air stifled it. I was scared to see what the city looked like. I hadn't yet spotted it, but the heat and the haze of grey did nothing to help my confidence levels.

I was nearing the top now. I believed here was the jut out where the Rivendallian enchantment tower was perched...it concerned me how I couldn't see it from the ground.

I finally managed to pull myself over the edge, onto the flat surface....and was met with the horrifying state of the city. The tower, in question, lay in pieces. Chunks of marble ranging from the size of my head to the size of a car laid in piles of rubble, shredded and burnt paper scattered from the books that had been held inside. Large dead-looking vines lay shriveled, contrasting sharply against the whites and greys of what the tower used to be.

Other than that? The place was dead silent except for the whistling, dry wind that traversed the mountains....it was a ghost town.

And it was terrifying.

Without wasting another second, I began to bolt down the pathway, clearing the large chunks of debris and swerving around the obstacles from the crash. My fingers danced around the amulet bouncing against my chest, something in the back of my mind telling me I'd require it in just a few moments.

Needless to say, I dreaded the accuracy of my gut feeling. The feeling that something was horribly wrong.

The thin, natural pathway that split the ravine wrapping the north side of Rivendale had somewhat crumbled, clearly unstable. Pieces had already broken away and fallen down to the river far below, a river now grey and murky with ash.

I continued on, however, sprinting across it before it had the time to break under my weight. The pathway then wrapped around the cliffside, bringing me up in a gradual slope towards the main city. The air smelt of blood and fire, although there were no flames in sight. 

My first thought was to check the palace. Maybe there would be a clue as to where Scott and his sister had gone off to.

I approached the doors, immediately noticing the way the wood was cracked, like it had been put under an immense amount of heat and pressure. The edges near the bottom were burnt, slowly shriveling, the hinges and doorknobs slightly disfigured...

The door to my left was already slightly opened, and I peered inside, further opening the small slit that revealed the entrance hall.

I bit back a sharp gasp which would have allowed the ash to directly fly into my lungs, keeping my lips tightly pressed together as I gazed around the hall. The carpet design was unintelligible, and I could no longer tell if the carpet even was there anymore, because the entire floor had been scorched into a singular shade of black, although a few parts weren't layered as thickly with debris and dust. The chandelier had fallen, shards of crystal and glass scattered everywhere to reflect the hazy light that had just been introduced to the room from my entrance.

It was unrecognizable. And concerning. I didn't dare further explore, the stairway that curved upward from this room was already coming to the ground, there was no way this place was stable anymore.

What piqued my curiosity, however, was why the entire place hadn't gotten burned down...something must have stopped the fire.

But what?

I slowly stepped away, turning my head to cough into the crook of my arm. Merely the singular stride I had taken into the hall had racked up all kinds of particles into the air.

The stress and fear I felt didn't dissipate as I turned on my heel, searching for where to look next.

The city was my best bet. Maybe I could find another living soul to question.

I tucked a loose curl of red that had fallen from my braid behind my ear, before starting back down the pathway, this time heading left instead of right. The right side of the fork would have brought me back down to the outcropping of land the enchantment tower had been set upon. 

So, I started towards the city.

But I hadn't gotten too far when I spotted a crumpled mass on the ground.

That mass being a body.

And that body being Erin's.

For a moment my heart beat in my ears, my body coming to a full and sudden stop. A wave of shock settled over me, like a weight on my shoulders, before I came to my senses and rushed to her side.

I dropped to the ground next to her, sliding my hand under her jaw to bring her face up to look into mine. One look into her eyes, glassy and blank, told me she was dead. However, that didn't stop me from pressing my fingertips against the side of her neck, checking for a pulse which I knew wouldn't be there.

I felt my heart sink. "Oh no..." I murmured, eyes glazing over her face. Her skin was near white, and pasty looking, the crimson dripping from her scalp a stark contrast. Slowly I allowed my gaze to travel down, searching for what had struck the blow to kill her.

I had to choke down bile that immediately seared the back of my throat at the sight of a burn. A potent scent of death and singed flesh seemed to become even more prominent in the air upon my realization, and I clapped a hand over my mouth to stop myself from becoming sick.

It tore at the girl's chest, tracing from her torso up to her neck and down a piece of her left arm. It was all blackened, uneven and bumpy with deep reds, crimson and dried flecks of brown from where blood had dried.

I could see clear pieces of bone sticking from the large wound, and even a chunk of discoloration beneath her ribs I could only assume to be her heart which had become exposed.

After several moments of staring, struggling to continue looking at her body, I screwed my eyes tightly shut, withdrawing my hands from her neck, her body as cold as stone.

She looked so...small in death. Nothing like the big and loud presence from before. She really did seem like a child, her wings crumpled and torn beneath her. Curls of red still circled her arms, every once in a while, her pale eyes swirled with purple and crimson before fading again. Like the magic was circulating her body similar to a blood flow. It didn't seem to be dying with her.

Despite the absolute menace Erin tended to be, I couldn't help but feel...sorry. She didn't deserve this, no one did. She was young too, wasn't she? How old again? Sixteen, maybe seventeen? Something along those lines.

I exhaled slowly, trying to find something to set my mind on to calm myself down.

But that's when it struck me that Scott would never have left his sister, even dead. He wouldn't have left her body to rot; he would have found some way to honor her.

Dread began to creep up on me again, adrenaline pumping back through my veins, my hands beginning to tremble. Now I needed to find Scott.

"I'll be right back." I whispered; despite the fact I knew Erin couldn't hear me. It just felt- strange, to leave without saying anything. 

I got to my feet, staring at her again for a moment. It was very hard to believe she was gone. After everything that had happened the past few years, everything, this is what caught up to her...

Finally, I managed to tear my eyes from the grotesque burn, forcing myself to focus on my goal before returning to Erin: Find Scott.

However, I didn't have to look too long.

I could hardly stifle the scream that escaped my throat at the sight of the elf laying in a pool of his own blood, a sword embedded in his chest. Ignoring the other figure which laid just a few feet away, I rushed across the parched land, sliding down to my knees beside him.

"Scott- Scott come on–" I said breathlessly, my hands shaking and trembling uncontrollably as I took his face in my hands, pulling it to look into my own. His skin was cold, and waxy beneath my fingers. Not like his usual chill, no, just void of any and all warmth.

I felt tears prickle the corner of my eyes when he showed no sign of movement, although I was hardly aware of the heated streams of tears that began to pour down my cheeks as I shook him, thoroughly panicked.

A fresh trickle of blood flowed from the corner of Scott's mouth over a dried patch of crimson, dripping over his cheek and into his hairline.

"Scott please–" I begged, pressing my knuckles over his lips. But I felt no exhale. He wasn't breathing. My heart felt like it had dropped into the pit of my stomach, my chest empty and burning. "You can't be dead–" I whispered, despite the obvious in front of me.

I couldn't bring myself to look at the weapon piercing his body, already feeling something acidic climbing up the back of my throat at the thought. I groped around for a moment, finding his hand and squeezing it as tight as I could. Something wet and sticky doused his palm, most likely blood...it wasn't warm anymore...how long he and his sister had been dead I wasn't sure.

Silent tears continued to flood my eyes, my chest tightening, breathing strained. I felt sobs creeping up on me, but honestly, I couldn't care less. One of my best friends was dead, and I wasn't there to stop it.

I knew nothing would be the same. I knew it wouldn't be when the world began to shake mercilessly just days before. But now, now it was hitting me. Like a train, barreling me over. I was drowning in thoughts, none of which I could decipher as I stared into Scott's strangely peaceful face.

I exhaled slowly, the breath shaky while I raised my free hand, wiping the blood from his cheek with my thumb before brushing his bangs away from his closed eyes. He could have been sleeping if not for the blade, runes lining the flat edge pulsing a strange blue, sticking from his chest, and a heart that was no longer beating.

I hardly looked up, or even noticed as the light crunching of someone walking along the path behind me met my ears.

Only when I could hear their breathing did I lift my head, peering over my shoulder at who was approaching.

A man was making his way up the pathway, eyes trained on the ground. His light, mousy brown hair was kept in a braid, a few wisps clouding his face and sweeping around his long, pointed ears.

He was quite tall, skin pale but his cheeks rather sun kissed, a small marking down his chin. He wore a scarf, a light shade of mustard-yellow, wrapped around his neck despite the heat in the area. He stopped beside me, brown eyes glazing over Scott's body with a somber expression. 

"Ello." I croaked, not even attempting to hide my tears, my cheeks surely stained red with heat and salty tracks.

At my voice, the stranger's eyes turned to me. His face held a sort of...warm familiarity that I couldn't put a finger on. "Greetings." He spoke, his elvish accent thick, hands folded politely behind his back.

I was too numb to feel scared by the strange elf, nor did he strike me as someone to fear.

I didn't know how it must look to him, his king with a sword dug through his chest, and me beside him, hands covered in blood as I wept over his body. Personally, I would have turned away and walked in the opposite direction.

But he didn't.

Instead, after several moments of standing still, he sat down beside me. And I didn't stop him. 

After many more uncountable minutes, a strange, thick silence settling over us like a blanket, I looked back up at him. His expression was nearly unreadable, but I caught glimpses of something similar to anguish dancing behind his murky eyes as they rested upon Scott. Sadness lingered behind his expression as his gaze moved up to follow the glint of the strange blade, his lips turned downward in a frown.

Finally finding my voice, I managed to ask a question. "Did you know him? Personally?" My voice came out weak, and shaky, cracking between syllables and at times nearly going silent. But I couldn't be bothered to repeat myself.

The stranger paused, seemingly taken by surprise. "Vaguely." He answered after a moment, lifting his chin to look back at me. "A few conversations and such. Could have known him better."

I nodded, swallowing thickly. "He deserved a rest. After everything." I spoke, my voice hardly above a whisper. "But not like this."

The elf released a sigh, one that seemed to come from deep within his chest. "I know.." he replied, his own voice low and quiet. "I know..."

"We can't leave them here. We have to- we have to honor him and...and Erin somehow. Bury them at the very least..." I said, my voice quavering at just the thought. I was mostly speaking to myself now, trying to convince myself to do what I said aloud.

"Surely you do not plan on doing it yourself?" He asked just as I began to stand, brushing my knees from the dust that stuck to my trousers.

I hardly gave him a glance while I replied. "I will if I must. You may help if you'd like, but I don't expect it."

The man remained silent for a moment before following me and getting to his feet. I got no verbal affirmation from him, not a sound, but I knew he wouldn't be leaving me to do it alone.

I took a pause, gazing around the clearing for a... suitable spot. But it lingered a few moments too long on the third body.

My first guess, as to why Scott had a sword plunged through his heart, was that his brother had killed him... well that guess was proven wrong when I recognized the third body as Xornoth's. Slowly, the thought of finding a burial spot for the two others fading from mind, I approached, it not taking long to walk the several feet towards where they lay.

Xornoth was crumpled against the ground, slain on his side. It struck me by surprise how young they seemed now, docile and unable to cause harm... it was strange to think of the fact he was younger than I... 

I moved to kneel on the ground to further... examine? No, that was too cruel a term. Inspect maybe? Study? Either way, I peered closer, cautiously... He was clearly dead, but that did nothing to help my nerves.

There was a strange dark patch near the center of their shirt, looking damp and sticky, laced with some thick, liquid-y substance. In one quick motion, not wanting to take too much time thinking about it, I shoved gently at his forearm with just enough force to roll him on his back. Leaning over them, I reached forward again and ripped down the collar of his shirt.

Beneath was a large wound tracing his chest, his skin sickly pale beneath the layer of blackness and blood as dark as tar. 

I paused for a moment, frowning in confusion. There was no weapon in sight, no weapon covered in his strange blood. No trace of what had caused the wound. No trace of what had killed him. Or who had killed Scott.

Although, for some strange reason as I heard my new acquaintance follow again, I remembered something from quite a while back. When Scott had approached me in Azurite with a book. A book that he had entrusted me with. One that had seemed to seal his fate. A book that foretold what would happen if one of these brothers were to be killed.

Did I believe it at the time? Not really. Now? I stared in disbelief. It was the only plausible answer. Which meant...

"Are you alright, Gemini?" The elf asked, lowering himself beside me.

It didn't even occur to me that I had never told him my name.

"He...he killed himself..." I breathed, raising my eyes to look back at Scott's body, how the sword's hilt stuck perfectly straight up from where it pierced. "He killed himself to stop them..." The new reality of this situation struck me nearly as hard as their deaths had. "Why would he..."

"Sometimes," The elf began, his tone soft. "Difficult decisions must be made to win a war."

"This is not a victory!" I cried at his statement, my eyes stinging again, burning around my waterline. "This- this is far from it! Scott shouldn't- he shouldn't have died for this! There must've been another way–"

"Clearly he did not believe so. He did what he thought he must. And, in a way, he did win. Don't you think he would have rather died on his feet, on his own terms, fighting, than be forced to live by his brother's hand, on his knees?"

I turned away as the stranger finished, bitter grief once again overwhelming my thoughts. I found his philosophy twisted, even apathetic. "No... no you're wrong... he still shouldn't have had to..."

"Even so, there is nothing to be done now. His choice was made." The elf said.

My throat burned in denial. Scott should still be alive and breathing like me. Like everyone else. A sacrifice for our safety shouldn't have been necessary. But here I was, sitting among those sacrificed for the 'good' of our world. 

What was even the point? Everything was falling apart...there was no world left to save.

However, at the same time, this strange elf was somewhat correct... there was nothing I could do now. He saved everyone, but now no one could save him, no matter how much I wanted to.

I had to focus on what I could do. Which was at the very least bury their bodies.

I stood, starting forwards towards where the hill sloped up to meet the stretch of land where the palace lay, stopping a few dozen feet from where the path winding up to the grand doors of the Majors abode carved through the earth.

I stared at the ground for several seconds unblinkingly, right where the land began to shift from even to slanted upwards. Here would have to do... Between my fingers I twisted the amethyst amulet I wore, the golden chain digging and scratching at my neck as I shifted it back and forth. After a moment, I tugged it off, the chain lengthening and crystal enlarging to form my staff in my hand, the feeling of the wood grip familiar beneath my palm.

The elven man did not seem surprised, but mumbled a singular word, 'impressive', at my small feat as he approached from behind, walking at a leisurely pace. Paying him no more attention, I rapped my staff sharply against the arid ground.

"Ori rie." I murmured beneath my breath, feeling the familiar rush of power come from within my chest, tingling warmth almost like a more pleasant version of spiders crawling along my limbs spreading down my arms to my fingertips. Out of the corner of my eye I watched the amethyst of my staff begin to glow a pale purple.

The earth beneath my feet shifted, before dirt and pieces of rock began to slowly peel away from the land to float within the air like large particles of dust. The rising fragments of terrain, in small and large chunks, continued to gather just feet from the ground, swirling slightly until crumbling into piles beside three large, rather deep holes.

Yes, three.

Despite the fact Xornoth was the cause of the deaths, that it was his fault, I would not be leaving his body out to rot.

I turned on my heel, staff still in hand, striding back towards the bodies. 

"Them first?" The stranger questioned, gesturing with one of his hands towards Xornoth's form.

"I suppose." I replied, leading us two towards the 'demon'. I slowly set my staff in the dirt beside Xornoth, leaning down to slide my hands underneath their arms. The elven man did the same, kneeling with one leg to grab hold of Xornoth's ankles.

"Ready? Three, two, one–" On his last count, the both of us hoisted him up, a grunt escaping my lips. He was...lighter than I would have originally thought, especially for their height, but still rather heavy. 

It was quite disturbing how his head lolled backwards, arms hanging limply so that his fingers lightly skimmed the ground...

After several minutes, filled with bits of struggle here and there, we had managed to half carry, half drag the body to the holes I had 'dug', moving towards the grave furthest to the left.

The elven man had dropped himself into the hole after we had lowered Xornoth inside, and I watched for a moment as he carefully crossed Xornoth's arms over his torso, before pulling himself out and standing next to me.

I raised an arm, feeling a tug within the center of my wrist, like an extension of my hand, just as my staff picked itself off the ground, flying straight into my palm. I don't know how long I stared down into the trench, staring at the man within it, at the man who had caused so much hurt and trouble for us all...

I didn't allow myself to think for a moment longer before rapping my staff on the ground again, mumbling the same incantation, this time the dirt rising before falling to cover the grave.

I'd never have to look at him again.

I hadn't even noticed that the stranger had left my side, only realizing when I turned around to see him knelt by Erin's small form. He seemed to be murmuring something beneath his breath, his lips moving although I could make out no sound. He gently dragged the edge of his thumb down the bridge of his nose, off of the tip, his eyes closed, before gently pressing his knuckles against Erin's forehead and performing the same motion.

It bewildered me, but I made no comment at the strange...ritual, merely making my way forward just as the elven man closed Erin's eyes. Now she truly looked like she could be sleeping. However, he wasn't done. For a moment I couldn't see what he was doing before from two sheathes on her hips he pulled her daggers.

Erin hadn't even had time to draw her beloved weapons before she had been killed.

"Her now?" I asked, even though it was obvious.

All I got in answer, was a nod. But I didn't have to do anything, because as the man stood up, he lifted Erin in his arms. Again, it unsettled me how limp and small she seemed, like a rag doll, unable to move or control her limbs. Her wings hung beneath her, crumpled and torn beyond belief, unworkable. 

I watched again as the strange man carried her to the grave all the way to the right. I followed a moment later while he lowered her inside, hopping down into the ditch to pull Erin's hands towards her chest, enclosing her dagger hilts within her hands to bury with her.

Now, all that was left, was Scott.

I had been dreading it since the thought had come to mind. But it must be done.

I set my staff down again, breathing out slowly and heavily... I could bury him with the sword embedded within his chest... but for some reason, I couldn't bear to do it. I couldn't live with the thought. I had to take it out.

With one knee on the ground and one foot, I wrapped my hands tightly around the hilt of the sword. And I tugged.

I nearly vomited instantly, a wretched squelch meeting my ears as the metallic scent within the air grew stronger. I had managed to pull it a few inches, but it wasn't nearly enough to remove it yet.

So, I gritted my teeth, closed my eyes, and tugged again. With another sickening sound of the metal sliding against his flesh, the sword released, clattering to the ground, watery blood and other fluids draining from the gaping hole.

I immediately regretted looking as the contents spilled from the wound, knowing instantly I was going to be sick. I heard the elf lean down next to me, before I lurched forward, emptying my stomach out onto the ground.

I felt the man's hands in my hair, gently pulling it away from my face as I vomited, my chest heaving and throat burning, tears forcing their way from my eyes and down my cheeks.

The few minutes felt like eternity before I gasped for air, discolored drool dripping from over my chin and into the pool of sick. My arms were beneath me, holding up all my weight, my hands gripping the rocky ground for support.

Moments later, with a soft sigh, the stranger spoke, "It is alright." He said, letting my hair down after I had wiped my face.

I screwed my eyes shut to avoid looking at Scott again, still feeling nauseous and dizzy at the thought as I stood, clutching at my stomach which churned angrily at my sudden movement.

The elven man didn't wait for me to recover, instead going to simply move Scott himself. I heard the dull sound of his dead weight being dragged against the earth, before I finally gained enough courage to open my eyes.

I spotted the sword still laying on the ground, the lower half of the blade coated in a thick layer of crimson. I leaned down, grabbing to the hilt again, already covered in sweat from my palms, before following the elf towards the grave site. 

I saw him let Scott down into the middle hole, between where his siblings now lay, right as I approached. But this time I was the one lowering myself down past the ground, letting the musty sent of dirt and earth fill my nostrils. Sword in hand, I crouched down, avoiding the wound with my eyes. I pulled Scott's arms up by his wrists, crossing them over his chest and torso. Then, doing just as the stranger had with Erin, I wrapped Scott's hands around the hilt of the blade, the sword facing point-down towards his feet.

I looked up to see the elf's outstretched hand, and I gladly took it, hoisting myself up and onto my feet.

I stared down at the two uncovered siblings for several moments, feeling yet another wave of grief at their lifelessness. I asked myself again, why? Why did this have to be the outcome...why was it their stories that had to come to an end?

The Major line had ended with their deaths. The bloodline now lost to history.

I grabbed my staff again, and with a third rap I let the piles of dirt fall, hiding their bodies from sight.

"We should mark them." I suddenly said, my voice hoarse from throwing up, the taste still lingering on my tongue. 

"And how do you suggest we do that?" The stranger asked quietly, his tone rather curious.

I didn't reply. I only tightened my grip on my staff, speaking a spell. "Secari."

A grinding noise filled the air as three rough-hewn chunks of stone pulled away from the hillside, dropping themselves one by one over the head of each plot, words carving into them as if an invisible hand was chipping away at the rock.

'Phoenix Major, Princess of the Elves.'

'Scott Major, King of the Elves.'

'Xornoth Major, Prince of the Elves.'

Each read.

"And I will consider my question answered." The elven man said simply a moment later. 

"I still don't get it." I whispered to myself, not necessarily for the elf to hear. I still didn't want to believe Scott was gone... it hurt. 

"Neither do I. However, if Fate may grant it, I doubt even the chains of death will keep these ones bound for long." He spoke.

I frowned at his words, the same sense of familiarity I had felt upon first glancing him returning. I had seen him before. I had heard him before, I knew it. But...where...?

Who had spoken like this? As if every word were set in stone, prophetic and wise? Who spoke of Fate like he knew her?

My lips parted as I turned once more to face him, eyes wide as it struck me. "Aeor?" I whispered.

And, for the first time, the smallest of smiles traced the elven man's lips after he had met my gaze. "You're a smart one you are. I wish you the best of luck." He said, brown eyes shifting to a shade of the deepest gold, before in a flash of blinding light he was gone.

***

I nearly threw up myself writing this chapter, I'm still nauseous- sorry for putting you guys through that

Anyways, I wrote this chapter pretty late at night so please disregard any spelling/grammar errors. I did proofread this, but I know I probably still missed some

But hey, only one more chapter left and then the epilogue >:D