Final Burden

by the Legendary Armor

"…We are falling… The light is calling… Tears inside me calm me down…"

The winter was ever freezing…

Eyes of the palest blue clouded over as the frosty air chilled his very being, his very soul… or at least, what still remained of it. How much it had decayed, even in the light of St. Elimine… Surely he was not worthy of her blessings…

His entire existence, spanning the centuries, was tainted with blood and loneliness. The only times he'd truly been alive was in times of killing, of merciless bloodshed… And yet it could be said that in those two time periods, the jaded bishop had known a feeling not quite unlike love…

Once, he had been a ruthless mercenary, with only one person he cared for, one dear friend… And as that man's life fled earthly bonds, the mercenary essentially sold his soul to try and gain him back. Nothing else mattered, no cost was too much, no life was worth thinking about…

…Yet he was given not his friend, but an abomination, a mockery of the one he'd sought to resurrect—defiled, disgusting, inhuman…

This weathered man then fled those bonds of darkness to the pure embrace of St. Elimine, living in isolation for so long, repenting for his old sins by dwelling in bitter loneliness and praying to a goddess for guidance in his empty existence…

Until he'd been caught up in the fighting once more.

Yet this time, there was yet another who stayed by him all the time… someone who began to bring out the softer side of him once again… kind and curious, yet powerful and somewhat naïve, the man was an enigma, an intoxicating mystery. Even after the defeat of the legendary dragon and its dark master—his tormentor—the bishop traveled back with the druid man, across the seas, away from his prison, his home.
This druid, this kind and gentle scholar, intrigued him… a man who cherished knowledge above all else, who even married a woman simply for the sake of research and having a son to continue his work.

And so the bishop followed him, truly alive again for the first time in years…

But when he saw the snows of Ilia, walking through the white as he did now, he realized something when this gentle man smiled at him… he realized something terrible, yet true.

He did not belong there.

His bloodstained past, his crimes against people… He was far from deserving of the druid-scholar's presence, so kind and gentle, so caring and loving…

And so he fled once more, in an attempt to finally atone for his heavy sins, unwilling to let his mortal saint watch his struggle. He would return at least a little cleaner, perhaps enjoy the druid's company as a true holy man… and then he could make up for lost time, perhaps be responsible for bringing smiles to the scholar's face…

So here he was, five years after leaving, returned to the wintry area of the druid's home. To make amends, to release this loneliness on his soul, and to finally feel truly at peace... And yet, before him now, standing with the frigid cold and gently falling flurries, was but a gravestone…

The death site of his cherished one.

The bishop felt a terrible agony in his spirit, his very soul, that he'd never anticipated… falling to his knees, he sank slightly in the freshly-fallen snow, but did not even notice the chill burning at his tired body. Once again he'd lost his only hold—the only person he could call a companion. He was left in desecrated isolation, and his one true hope, this innocent man, was gone forever from his grasp.

Looking skyward, the light of St. Elimine shown down as the sun, but it was so much brighter than it should, as if fueled by divine grace… The snows sparkled in blinding reflection and the chill this burdened bishop had never even noticed faded away.

Was this merely a delusion? Or was he finally fading…? He was so tired now, so tired of wandering… and he thought he'd found his true way to peace, this perfect person… who died without even saying goodbye.

…But he heard a familiar whisper from that divine sunlight…

…a familiar presence on the wind…

Was this some dream? It seemed as such, if this was truly what he thought… was this… Elimine's pity? His hands, his entire body, seemed spectral and dim in the blinding light… but then a warmth filled him, unlike any other, and he was solid once more, if glowing in a strange, holy light. The world around him faded, and he looked up…

…into the eyes of the one he thought he'd lost forever…

That smile… it took away all his pain. That kind gaze stole all his doubts, and those words…

"Renault… You don't have to be alone any longer."

The bishop's response was a faint smile. "…What do you mean?"

The monocle the violet-haired scholar wore sparkled in the light of the goddess, and he smiled gently. "We are eternal. This is the blessed light, you see—our physical bonds to that world are gone, but… I would gladly share this nirvana with you."

Feeling all traces of negativity flying away from his soul, he placed a hand, shaking ever so slightly, on the smaller man's shoulder—solid to his touch. Yes… this was a new reality… Was this St. Elimine's heaven?

"Very well."

…And so the bishop's final burden was lifted.

(end)