The Cursed Mother

Four

Perhaps it's cruel of him. He's a doctor, he's the Doctor of this city, bound by oath to do no harm to his patients.

But when he sees the burning rubble of the Hidden City, sees the countless people screaming and begging for someone to save him...the only one he thinks of is his mother.

Achilles runs through the rocks and fire of ruined buildings, sprints up the crumbling stairs and into the burning remains of the temple.

His mothers temple.

"Mother!" He yells desperately into the flames, "Mother, are you here?!"

He spies a form in the smoke, collapsed against the ground, surrounded by burning candles and tapestries, by the remains of the roof that collapsed when Acnologia tore through it.

He grimaces at the smoke, covers his nose with his coat, and darts into the fire...

His mother's face is peaceful, calm and smiling. A large rip across her chest bleeds still, the red liquid bubbling from the heat. He cares not that he smears the blood all over his hands and chest as he holds her close, burying his face in her shoulder.

He wails, loud enough to drown out the fire nipping at the ends of his clothes, the roars of Dragons growing distant. The screams of the injured and dying fading into nothing as he holds his mothers burning body close.

Her indigo hair ratty and soaked with her own blood, her once golden eyes faded into a dim yellow, the Curse of Prophecy vanishing with her faded life.

...

Had she known? He thinks numbly as he carries her to the top of the highest mountain, to the clearing of a dense forest thick with magic.

Had she Seen it? He wonders as he digs her grave with his bare hands.

Did she feel peace? He muses as her carves the grave marker with the chisel she had gifted him.

...Had she wanted to die? He ponders as her buries her in the soil, rain pouring on him the entire time.

No, he resolves, she'd never want to leave me.

His fists clench at his sides, body shaking with the force of his rage. He looks at the gravestone, his mothers name, feels the weight of her amulet around his neck.

"Mother..." he whispers, body suddenly too heavy to hold. He collapses onto his knees in front of the grave, fists pressing into the mud as his furious tears mix with rain. "What did we do to anger the Dragons this much?.. do they have no sense of mercy?.."

He had been useless...powerless. His fists press tighter into the ground as his teeth grind together. He hates them— hates Acnologia and every other Dragon.

He's a healer, yes, but he wants nothing more than to make them bleed.

There's a caress against his downturned face, a gentle, familiar pressure around his shoulders that makes his eyes snap open with a silent gasp.

"Mother-?!" He looks up.

Nothing. Nothing but a grave.

The amethyst glitters within the gold of her amulet.

"..." he stands up, mud sticking to his hands, clothes, and feet. "For you, Mother," he breathes, "I will break my Healer's Oath." He feels blood in his palms, from where his nails dig into the skin, "I will acquire that Dragon Slayer Magic, and I will kill every last one of them— Dragons and Dragon Slayers alike." There's a pressure in his chest, "I will not stop until nothing of them remains, because they did not stop either..."

His steps are sure as he descends the mountains.

"They had always respected you, Mother," he murmurs, pressing a hand to the amulet, "but they will fear me..."

He does not stop walking.