With each moment, he could feel the thrum of her pulse burning its way through his fingers. Every shred of emotion and rationality in his body screamed at him to pull away, but the prince was no longer in control of himself anymore.

Eirika stared back at him, blue eyes filling with tears. "Ly…on," she choked out, unable to breathe. Her small hands struggled to push him away, but she simply couldn't match his strength. Normally it wouldn't have been too difficult a task, but the dark energy possessing him was unnatural.

He was on top of her, choking the life out of the one he loved the most. On top of her. On top of her. In the corner of his mind, hideous thoughts churned. She's at your mercy, Lyon. Do to her what you've always desired. What you never thought you'd have. I'll help you. Even the slight trembling of her collarbone beneath his fingertips was almost more than he could bear. Eirika was so smooth, so delicate. How many times had he fantasized about having her underneath him like this?

Her shoulder pads and chest armor had cracked so badly that her undershirt was clearly visible. Lyon could see the fear in her eyes as his hands lingered towards the buttons. He hated how that fear was meant for him. He hated how everything had come down to this. And most of all, he hated himself for the sick sense of joy he felt at seeing her cringe away.

Tears dripped on the princess' face, but they were not her own. They were Lyon's. "I don't want this," he whispered, his heart pounding louder with each time his fingers dipped towards the buttons of her shirt. But his hands had a mind of their own. "Eirika, I'm…I'm sorry." For what I'm about to do. Though he didn't need to speak the last bit; the words passed through their eye contact.

She suddenly pulled his closer to her, burying his head against her breast. "I'm sorry too. For not being able to help you." She was so warm, her body pulsating heat. More guilt than ever shot through him. If he had truly not wanted her body, he would've been able to stop himself. But his inner desires were making her suffer.

For a moment, he pressed closer together to her, savoring her warmth. There was some ethereal beauty about her and Ephraim both. A graceful elegance he lacked. Not to mention strength. How many times had he wished he could just get a little closer and touch them? But now that he was close, he could see that he had been right in his guess; Eirika radiated a kind warmth. It was soothing, something that brought tears welling to his eyes. Maybe if he had told her how he felt, he would've gotten to feel this warmth sooner. She was so warm in fact that his body was beginning to feel sticky. It was at that moment that Lyon realized he had been stabbed.

It was shocking that he hadn't noticed it before or felt the pain. The presence of Eirika was simply too intoxicating. But now that his fingers crept towards the wound, he hissed in pain. A sharp flare dug into his side as he gripped it tightly. But the damage was done; the wound was fatal. Below, he could hear light sobbing.

"I'm sorry," she said, stroking his cheek while crying. He smiled back at her, trying not to show the pain in his face.

"No, it's all right. Thank you." Suddenly the weight on his shoulders had been lifted. Lyon felt like he could touch the sky. It was something he hadn't felt since 2 years ago when he still saw the twins.

Already the blood was copious. His vision was growing blurry as he struggled to remain lucid. He rolled over on his side, still desperately grasping the princess' hand. He didn't dare let go, lest he lose his composure. Shakily, he drew up his other hand and stroked her cheek, leaving a faint smudge of red. "If we're ever reborn again someday, I really hope I'll have enough strength to protect you," he murmured.

Eirika was silent, but he could feel the soothing presence of her lips on his forehead as his eyes shut one last time. Eirika. Ephraim. Let's play again together some day, shall we?