The clang of metal bounced off the cracked walls around me. With each meeting of our swords, the very world seemed to shake with a force that penetrated the soul. I panted heavily, struggling to hold the Sword of Seals in my shaking hands. My grip was beginning to loosen, as fatigue dripped into every muscle in my body. My gloves were soaked with my own sweat and blood.

I knew he was faster than me, and at this time, fitter than me too. I could hardly believe that we were fighting like this. A death match. "Kill, or be killed" was our mentality at the time. His fierce, blue eyes glared into mine, waiting for one second of hesitation. Then, he would use his legendary blade and penetrate more than just my soul.

I strained my eyes; they were blurry with weary tears - or blood, I couldn't tell. He was coming at me again, his sword raised high above his head, aimed at the sky but directed at me. With a last exertion of strength, I forced myself to dodge his vertical swipe, but my reflexes were too slow. A white hot pain shot up my arm as I felt his sharp blade slice deep into my shoulder. I hissed and my sword fell to the dusted cement beneath me. The Sword of Seals was joined by the warm droplets of blood, flowing freely from my arm.

My legs buckled and my fiery hair dropped over my eyes. The blonde-haired swordsmen saw the opening, and in one swift movement, his hard leather boot had impacted with my stomach, sprawling me uncomfortably on my back. I don't understand why he didn't use his sword, but nonetheless, the same thought ran through my head.

I'm finished. Every ounce of my energy had escaped my limp, useless body. My mind spun, as unconsciousness came so close to taking over me. I forced it away, I cannot die here. I don't want to lose to Link. I don't want to die. Please, don't let him kill me. The last thought seemed to jolt something within my body. Not enough for me to pick up my sword and fight again, but enough for me to accept something. I saw the determination in his face; he was not going to give up now. Link was a proud man, and if he had come this far, he wasn't going to leave it here. He will kill me.

I will die now. But I will die with dignity. With a burning pain traveling through my mind, my body and my soul, I gripped onto my legs and slowly propped myself up on one foot and one knee. I placed my bloodied hand over my heart and gazed into my friend's eyes. He was my friend, after all. We were all best friends. Our love for our swords had torn it apart, I realised. The grief of it overwhelmed me and my sea blue eyes filled with tears. No point holding it back now, I was going to die eventually. To think, after all the battles, all the wars, I would be killed by my best friend.

The Hylian stared right back at me; if I could choose any expression to describe it, I would say angry confusion. Confusion - or regret, but I doubted that one. I stifled a sob, somehow retracting my tears. Possibly, they forced their way back at the fear of seeing him tighten his grip around the royal blue hilt of the Master Sword and pulling it back behind him, still with the point directed at my head. His back leg stretched to the back, and the front leg bent forward, almost touching his crouched chest. I'd seen that stance many times before, always before he delivered a forward thrust, which would definitely finish off any opponent – or a certain red-headed General. I closed my eyes tight, and awaited the agony that would rip through me when he plunged it into my forehead, ending my life. I heard the sound of his sword ripping through the air then… Nothing.

Death felt odd. I could swear I didn't feel the pain of his sword shredding me. But, I did feel the pain in my arm, and my throbbing head. Why did nothing feel quite… Dead?

I opened one eye warily, expecting to see… Something. I wasn't quite sure what I would see, maybe a 'light at the end of a long, dark tunnel', or something overly clichéd like that. But what I did see surprised me. A large, thick cape was being played with by the wind, fluttering slightly in Hyrule Temple's breeze. It was tied around the neck of none other than my blue haired companion, Marth. Even with the excruciating pain flowing through every muscle in my system, I smiled.

I'm alive!

"That's enough." He said sternly. His voice sounded so serious, and rough. Not at all like the smooth and calm manner he usually spoke in. If I were Link, I may have stopped in my tracks too. The Prince could be very intimidating if he wanted to, especially with the way he stood in front of me, his arms spread out protectively. As his cape flew in the draft, it brushed past my face, feeling so soft that I could have just snuggled into it with relief (without sounding perverted). He was definitely there to save my life. I thanked him mentally. Thank you for saving me, pal.

Weak with relief, I let my shuddering legs collapse, leaving me in a less noble, but far more comfortable sitting position. I leaned upon my left arm, succeeding in keeping myself up. I was still wary of the fact that Link was there, and could possibly shove my barrier away, although I doubted it.

I looked past one of Marth's arms to see what the Hylian was doing. Hopefully, apologizing for his rash actions. He wasn't. His eyes seemed to be glued upon the Prince's, and his body shook like the dirt swirling beneath his feet. I vaguely saw the sparkle of a tear as it dropped from his eye. I had never seen Link cry before, never.

Why is he crying? Is he guilty for trying to kill me? Is it guilt?

I seemed to have missed a very important detail about the blonde. His hands were empty. Where is your sword?

The Prince turned his head slightly, his body still faced forward. His eyes were hidden by a mass of blue hair, blown out of place by the Temple's gale. But even with them concealed, I saw that his cheeks were stained with rivulets of tears. He inhaled a raspy breath, his mouth opened slightly. I noticed with a shock that he was bleeding around the edges where his lips met. The dark red liquid traveled down his chin, and dripped onto his shoulder, now that his head was turned.

"This battle is over." He said hoarsely. The wind picked up again, pulling his hair away from his eyes. They were blank and gazing back at me. The cold, icy-blue color ripped into my mind, engraving itself upon my memories. My stomach heaved, his face, his eyes…

And then I saw it. The wind picked up his cape and threw it too the side, revealing something shiny and sharp protruding from Marth's back. It dripped with blood. His blood. It would have been a few mere inches from my face, in my previous position.

My heart wrenched. It was the Master Sword. The tears that had fought their way back before poured freely. My body went numb and my mind whirled. All I felt was a pain, twisting through my heart and the a severe nausea in my stomach. It hurt more than any sword. I didn't notice for a while that I myself was shrieking.

"No! Marth!" I cried in despair, the tears tightening my throat and distorting my voice. More anguished screams escaped my lips, making me feel woozy. "Please, please no!" I ignored the pain in my body – it was nothing compared to the pain in my head – and forced myself up. The pressure felt too much, and I fell back again.

Move, damn it! I cursed mentally at my weakness. Get to Marth, he's dying, help him! I despised the fact that my friend was standing in front of me, with his life slowly draining out of him. And I couldn't do anything. His body crumpled slightly, the torture of Link's blade making his strength deteriorate. Yet, he still stood protectively. He must know the Hylian's state of mind as well and still saw him as a threat to my life, even without his sword. If Link had gone mad, he could just as easily pull out the sword. I cringed at the thought, making my voice sound more strangled as I screamed.

Although I highly doubted Link could do anything in his condition. His violent shaking hadn't ceased, and his slight tears had turned to shuddering sobs, as the realization sunk in. He had killed Marth, and if he hadn't killed Marth, he would have killed me, Roy. He collapsed onto his knees and dug his fingers into the small patches of grass and dirt covering the hard cement beneath him, shaking his head and mumbling apologies through his tears.

I growled, half at Link, and half at myself. I wanted to blame it all on him, I wanted to say it was all his fault that Marth was dying before our very eyes. But it wasn't. If I hadn't been so weak… If Ihadn't let Link defeat me, Marth wouldn't have died. The guilt washed over me, weakening me once more.

It's all finished… It's all my fault. I looked once more, with guilt-ridden eyes. His body leaned dangerously forward; he was about to fall. I felt it was the last thing I could do, to make sure he wasn't impaled even more upon the sword. He had been through enough. Mustering up all the strength I could, I forced myself up swiftly. My head begged me back down, but I disregarded it. Marth didn't think twice about his own agony to save my life, so I ignored mine.

He inhaled with a gulp, and began to fall slowly to his front. I reached out and placed my forearm along his chest, and placed the other just above the blade jutting out of his back. Then, I gradually fell to a kneeling position on the ground, cradling my friend in my arms.

I stared down at him, my whole body wrenching with sorrow. I placed my hand under his head and looked at my best friend. I swept the blue hair away from his eyes. They were unfocused, staring into nothingness. They slowly seemed to find their way to mine, looking blank and lifeless, the icy blue seeming to darken with his last moments of life. His breaths were now so faint and pained that I knew there was no chance of survival.

"Thank you, Marth." I whispered with a forced smile. He stared at me for a while, I was unsure if he heard me. Then with an effort, I saw his lips curve into a small smirk, as if to say "Don't worry about it." I clenched my fist around Marth's cape, my tears now dripping onto his face. Placing my hand on his back, I pulled him up into an embrace, being cautious not to touch the sword. I buried my face in his collar and wept with loud, trembling sobs. And there, I stayed, until I felt the slow rise and fall of his chest falter, and stop. Marth was dead.

It was here that I realized the true meaning of being a swordsman. To live by your sword, and to lose by your sword. That was the most common definition. But I grasped a new view on it. Yes, you must live and lose by your sword, but must always be willing to live and lose by your fellows, no matter what the consequence. And that is why I will always be regarded as one of the renowned Three Swordsmen, alongside Marth and Link, no matter what consequence.

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Mimza