Author: Apenwithnoname PM
The battles and skirmishes from the perspectives of the mercanaries Ramza hires, a look into the lives of those that fight and bleed with Ramza.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Tragedy - Words: 604 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 4 - Updated: 07-11-11 - Published: 07-07-11 - Status: Complete - id: 7156852
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
The Battle of Golgollada Gallows, from a black mages perspective, frankly there is not enough love for the guys you lead, they fight and die for you people. :(
Lowell staggered past the ruined battlements of Golgollada Gallows, clutching the harsh sword wound dealt to his arm. Lowell, as the strongest black mage of Ramza Beoulve's mercenary outfit, had personally rained fire and lightning upon the ambushers awaiting their arrival to rescue Princess Ovelia. When they had reached the gallows themselves the trap was sprung and the battle commenced. Now he idly searched for Cyngweth the white mage that, like himself, had been a part of the outfits founding.
Passing by body after body, Lowell took a moment of pride. Another flawless battle,with everyone he knew not among the fallen. Wait. There had been no white mages among the enemy, so why...?
A shock of bloody auburn hair caught Lowell's eye and he quickly rushed to the crumpled body , arm forgotten as he screamed for a chemist.
It was Cyngweth that lay there and still alive to Lowell's joy. She made as if to speak but Lowell hushed her, ripping strips from his own blue cloak for bandages as he looked apprehensively at the red spots on her once immaculate white robe.
"Cyngweth, just breathe," Lowell muttered, straining the words through his own parched throat. "You just keep breathing and you'll be fine."
Cyngweth just stared at him and some crazed lunatic part of himself deduced that she was examining his injuries.
"Have you ever looked up at the sky, Lowell?" she croaked eyes locked on the frantic black mage. "Have you ever considered how vast the sky is?"
Too much blood had already spilled, leaving a small crimson pool around her body. Surely she could heal herself, Lowell thought, eyes scanning for her oak staff, surely-
Her hands were a torn mess where she had most likely caught the brunt of an enemy knight's sword.
"I fear..." She stopped shuddering slightly and Lowell fancied he could see a blue tinge to her lips. "I won't be able to stay with the you any longer... I fear that I... won't see another sunset like this,not on this earth at least..."
Lowell picked her up, his usually low physical strength increased by desperation and he ran towards the gates leading away from the gallows, towards where he knew Ramza, Brunhilde and Randall where resting and looting whatever was salvageable with the thin hope that someone had a hi-potion or white magicks to spare.
"Don't die," he whispered partly to Cyngweth and partly as his own manic chant. "Don'tdiedon'tdiedon't-"
"But I was meant to,"she said, her voice growing fainter. "If it is the will of the gods-"
"What the gods will is something I shall not allow," Lowell muttered tersely. "They cannot simply will the death of one of their faithful without answering to me."
Cyngweth stared at him incredulously, giving Lowell a moment of grim satisfaction that was quickly lost as she settled into a different look, one of acceptance and resignation.
"I suppose that is part of the charm you exude," she muttered, her voice almost lost to the wind stirred by Lowell's stride. "The gods know thats what made me fall for you..."
Silence followed as he waited for her to talk, to breathe, to do something other than act like one of the many corpses littering th-
Lowell felt for her heartbeat through her robes and felt nothing. And there, under the sunset of Golgollada, he wept.