Fandom: Saga Frontier
Type: Fanfic
Word Count: 546
Characters: Rastaban, Ildon, Asellus
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don't own Saga Frontier.
Summary: A remix of In the Form Of. Ildon copes after what's happened.
Something exploring Ildon's fear that Rastaban has gone mad, but from Rastaban's point of view. Smut not required.
Notes: Spoilers for Saga Frontier. Written to "Mother Heroic" by Bjork. Told in the second person.

"Why? Why have you gone astray?"

You must have asked this question a million times. You don't know and you don't care. You've lost count. You don't even think about counting the unshed tears buried within you.

Once upon a time, there was a great mystic and his name was Rastaban. He drove you crazy, but he made you smile when you seldom did. He'd hug you from behind and he would be the contrast against the cold castle walls. He'd laugh when you questioned him. He poked at you and lived to tell the tale.

He isn't here anymore. You look up past the falling flower petals, looking for him, hoping to see his smiling face again, but you see nothing.

"Ildon!"

Rastaban. It sounds like him, so to must be him. You turn only to find nothing but statues looking upon you with sorrow. There is something in your eye, but you know that isn't tears because you don't ever cry.

Asellus gave you comfort and you saw things through to the very end like you promised. She won the life of a half-mystic and you won something. You don't know what. Something. It's not Rastaban because he isn't here anymore.

How many times do you ask why? Then you realize that you're not actually questioning why Rastaban did what he felt he had to do. You wonder why he died.

Oh Great Knight, dark as death yet bright as the sun. You make no sense. Why should you be understood? Knight Heroic who did what had to be done. No, it didn't have to be done. He could have surrendered. He could have, but chose not to, so "why" always remains.

"Ildon!"

You don't turn anymore because you know that there is no one there. Would you have helped him with his plan if he told you? Do you really need to answer that question?

A statue stands before you, but you don't bother to look at it. Are those snowflakes? No, just more flowers and leaves and whatever the wind bothers to pick up. You hear your name again and you remember laughter and the "come ons". You recall Rastaban mirror your gloomy face and you remember shaking your head as a smile appeared on your lips. He kept you sane, so you wonder why you failed to do the same for him.

You only did as you asked, and now Rastaban is part of the wind. Oh great knight, fierce as a gale yet still struck by a sword. A knight is supposed to protect those who can't protect themselves. A knight is not supposed to kidnap them and seal them inside Griffons. Rastaban is not a monster. Rastaban is...was...a knight. Black Knight. Knight Heroic. Knight Glorious. In his eyes, there are no immortal tears because there never was, except around you, and even then, laughter followed.

You walk around a field of violets, of colorful somethings, roses maybe and you know little about them. You feel someone embrace you from behind and you freeze, wondering, hoping, wishing. You turn.

It's Asellus. You can't decide whether to laugh or cry on her shoulder, so you end up doing both.