Of Love and Death.

The Past Chapter 19: Of Love and Death Pt.2

Light roared at the top of his lungs. For a moment, everything on the battlefield went dull and silent. Even the rain seemed to stop falling. It hung in the air, frozen in time. The world, the universe, pausing for just a breath. All spread out underneath him. His vision of the rocky ground framed by his wings-mid beat. Glowing, they made a picture frame. A perfect viewing of the horror on everyone's face.

Against the backdrop of the rocky ground, color stood out. Mind and Fire, back to back. Blue and red. Light could see their eyes, white and black, looking up at him in horror. No sound, not from them, not yet. This whole battle was for them. For them, and for all the Forces, so that they would not be controlled by the frosted grip of Cold. It was worth it. Light had no doubt about that. He'd had no doubts the moment he set foot on Planet Earth.

Of course, she was there too. The Traitor. Light hoped she would regret what she'd done. One her face, he liked to think that he saw regret. Or at the very least, something akin to an awakening. That only now was it setting in for her what she'd done. But that wasn't true. Earth had known how far she and Cold would go the moment she stabbed Blood with that dagger. Light would get no solace from her regret today.

There, across the sky, was Dark. Light met his brother's eyes, his brother's gaze. So angry. With so much more anger and fury than the gleaming dragon could ever feel. But justified. Light wished he could be so angry, so mad. But all he could feel was silence and stillness. It was like it had already crept up on top of him, over him, encompassed him. Ice freezing the tips of his wings, crawling across his body.

Calmness, stillness. Maybe ice was the wrong word. Light didn't know what it was. He just didn't know. It was like lying down to sleep. Like it was all finally out of his hands. Faith. Perhaps that's what it was. Faith that this would not be Cold's day to win. He had no proof, nothing to hope on. It should be the icy shadow's victory. But...Light knew that it wouldn't be. That's why he was calm. He was resigned to win.

And, in truth, Light knew there was nothing he could even do to help. It was all slipping away from him. A drop of rain. A single drop of rain hit him on the forehead. Like a crawling stream, that single pinprick ran down his chest, smoothing and mixing with his scales. The raindrop soaked in all in. Consumed it all. It touched his wound, his oozing red blood. Somehow, somehow, Light saw it touch that dagger. That dagger that was slowly, slowly fading away, bleaching itself.And the water turned brilliant scarlet.

One more time, the raindrop fell. Not from the sky, but off of Light. It fell, and the drag felt everything slip away. Every ounce of the power that the Sun's held. Or, at least, all the power that he held within himself. Taken away by that one raindrop. Light felt it. He felt it as it fell, faster and faster and faster, accelerating with each second.

Until it hit the puddle with a single splash.

And time came back.

Towards the clouds, towards the sky, towards space. Towards all of those stars that were home. Towards the Orbs, somewhere so far away did Light turn his gaze. No more would his wings let him beat. No more would he fight here in this sky. But it was okay. The dragon found it okay. He was the leader of the Sun's. Better than anyone he knew that they would be okay. And they had the shadows, just as devoted as anyone else.

Again, were those useless wings framing Light's view. Blocking anyone else flying in this infinite, unknowable sky. They seemed to reach for that black expanse he felt he would never see again. All the raindrops fell towards him, one after another. Like a constant, unimaginable stream. A vast and unknowable gray. With one clawed foot, Light reached out, a bit like a baby.

And then he hit the ground.

Form saw it. It was beautiful. Just beautiful. It looked like it should have been some sort of dance, a performance. Something that his brother would love. Light and Dark, black and white, falling away from each other in grace. Wings outstretched, like they were waving goodbye. On their backs they fell through the sky, as everyone else watched. Only a single glinting figure, reflective like glitter, remained hovering there. She would be the conductor of the orchestra. Watching her perfect performance happen.