Plasmatropolis [OLD]

New Allies, New Enemies

"What do you mean he's dead?" Thalleous shouted at Ciantrius, who was standing at the foot of his bed, "Answer me honestly! What do you mean, he is dead?"

"Sir, you must rest, your wounds are far from healed-"

"Just tell me, are you speaking the truth? Who are you talking about? What are the reasons for what happened?"

"Sir! You have just woken up, you musn't stress yourself out like this-"

"I don't care if I die, if Tygren's already dead, then what do I have to live for?"

The doctor sighed, hiding his guilt from his expression, "Sir. Your partner, Tygren Voltais commited suicide with one of my tools. He told me just a few days before the incident that he 'didn't want to live in a world without you', as he did not expect for you to wake at all."

"He would never-"

"He has... My deepest condolences, sir-"

"MY BOYFRIEND JUST DIED, IS THAT ALL YOU CAN MUSTER?" Thalleous spat at the doctor, his chest protesting at each syllable, "I doubt he really killed himself, he would never lose hope in me like that-"

Rage had forced pent up tears to leak through his eyes, as he poured the sheer anger and loss into his sobbing, grief smothering his mind like a thick, heavy blanket.

Softly he said, "Please... Just let me die too..."

"I can't do that. I'm a doctor, I save lives." He understood the irony of his own statement, and he hoped Thalleous wouldn't notice. If he did, he showed no signs of it.

He sat up, pushing the covers off his torso, finding himself in a hospital gown, his chest tied together with layers of bandages. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed as the doctor tried to push him back.

"You have to rest-"

"Don't touch me, I need to see Tygren for myself."

The doctor sighed as he offered his support to the other Sendaris, propping him up from under his arm. Together, they limped over to the room where Tygren had stayed. Pushing open the door, Thalleous prayed to see the Voltaris' red markings to still glow, for the entire nightmare he'd woken up in to just be another dream. But the dead markings of the Ardoni in the bed were all too real. There was a splatter of gore at his neck and the sheets around it, and he was completely still. His horns were completely black.

"I'm sorry for your loss, sir-"

"SORRY? SORRY? DO YOU HAVE NO HEART?" He pointed accusingly at the dead Voltaris, "I loved him, Ciantrius, loved him, and now he's dead-"

He choked on his own words, as he struggled to restrain his emotions. The doctor stood strangely still, his face a sympathetic, though blank mask.

"Sir, am I dismissed?"

"Yes."

The doctor shuffled away, his back strangely stiff and his head held high. Thalleous limped over to Tygren's corpse, placing his hand on his forehead, which was ice cold to the touch. Another tear dripped down his face, landing in the splotch of blood on the sheets, shifting the dried blood from its original place and causing it to flow further along the white cloth.

"Tygren... What did I do to deserve this?"

He examined the cut. It was so small it almost seemed inconsequential, yet it still took away the one he'd held above all else. He looked up at the contents of his inventory, which were piled in a neat pile beside him, his sheathed sword at the front of the meager pile. An Aggressium song and a Mobillium song sat atop his notebook and pencil. Another sob racked his fragile body, as he hobbled over to the pile. He picked up the sword, running his hand across the edge of the scabbard