Death. It was supposed to be serene, to be soothing, and peaceful. Like a mother’s gentle touch—not that he had ever received something like that— guiding him towards the Origin Sea, towards Inkah’s Domain. Or at least that was what Alnea Oathkeeper had heard people say. And that was what he had been expecting, waiting to embrace his death. After all, he was an Oathkeeper, even if an exiled one. He would never run away, no matter what he faced.

“…no, no, no, no…”

However, he could not say the same about others. Neither could he expect them to be like him. Facing death, it took courage far beyond what most people could conjure. It was only when he truly faced death that Alnea Oathkeeper learned how fearsome it was. And it was also then that he finally understood why so many people ran from death, trying to overcome the limitations of their bodies.

Unfortunately, all that those people could do was postpone the inevitable. Death was not so easy to cheat. Or at least that was what Alnea Oathkeeper knew. Still, the struggle of those people was not completely in vain. After countless years, even if no one managed to actually cheat death, many of them left behind accounts of what death felt like to them. And all of them had said the same thing. Death was emptiness; a slow, and peaceful emptiness, that eased onto them like their mother’s embrace.

“…not supposed to…”

If it was really his mother’s embrace that he would be feeling, then that would be a very miserable death, with nothing peaceful about it. The scorn, and the hate that his mother had for him… He did not remember when his mother had last given him a warm embrace. Was it fourteen years ago? Or sixteen? Either way, he did not care. Thinking of his mother was a waste of time, not that he had any left.

“…Why did you…”

Death was already upon him, and if his mother, anyone from his family in fact, would be the last thing he thought of before his death, then everything that he would have suffered would have been in vain. As such, Alnea Oathkeeper finally let go of the last attachment that he had left with his family, and waited for his death to come to him… But why was it taking so long? Why had no one told him that death was going to be so excruciatingly slow, and painful?

“…Do not…”

The vague mutterings of a girl, along with her sobs, had been ringing in his ears for a while, fading away with time, as if the girl was getting farther and farther away from him. But he knew that it was not the case. The girl was still there, by his side. It was just that his hearing had been fading away with time. Just as his vision had faded away, plunging him into darkness.

“…I promise…”

However, he did not need either of those things to recognise the sobbing girl. She was the reason for his death after all. And she was also the only person beside him when he had started losing his faculties. She was his salvation. Even if he could not see her, he could still imagine her by his side; her frail body trying to lift his limp body, only to end up tumbling down to the ground with it.

“...sorry…”

Unlike him, who had never given up on finding his Enlightenment until the very end, until he had confirmed that he would never be able gain his Enlightenment, the girl had never even tried gaining her Enlightenment. It was as if she already knew that it would be meaningless. As such, she had never trained in the Art of her clan, or any other physical skill for that matter. Expecting her frail body to carry him to an Attuned Healer would be wishful thinking. Besides, with the condition that he was in, deteriorating with every passing moment, not even a Healer would be able to save him.

“...not…”

At least he got to rest on her laps, something that he had never even imagined. Maybe death was not such bad thing after all. Serene, and soothing… he could finally understand why those people had described death as such. Maybe… Alnea Oathkeeper imagined the girl kneeling beside him in her knee high white socks, and her tapered white frilled skirt covered in his blood. Not completely. She looked best in white after all. But some splotches of his blood over her dress would be fine. It would be like his mark, something for her to remember him by.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“...end…”

If death was really going to be peaceful, if it was really supposed to feel like someone’s embrace, then he hoped that it would feel like hers; bitter, reluctant, hesitant, and regretful, but full of warmth, and peace. Yet peace refused to come to him. Only pain did. Raw pain, and agony. And so, as death kept creeping closer and closer to him, Alnea Oathkeeper could not help looking back at his life, wondering if it was worth it.

“…you…”

While he was ruminating on the worth of his life, the pain that was tearing at him started fading away, and with it, so did his sense of touch. Just moments ago, he was still able to feel a pair of warm hands trying to put pressure around his wounds, but after the fiery pain reached its peak, it faded away, taking away all his sensations with it. The girl’s touch, the warmth of his salvation…

She should have been trying to stop his blood from overflowing. A futile attempt. The wound was from the Aspects of the Origin Sea, used in conjunction with some Arts. It was not something she could have stopped. Just the fact that he had not died immediately after getting that wound and had managed to rescue the girl was a miracle in itself. But miracles are called miracles because they did not happen with logic.

It did not matter though. Alnea Oathkeeper was already resigned to his death. He was just glad that he was able to save his salvation in the end. And it was not as if he had not gotten anything in return. She was crying for him. She was trying to save him. She did not want to lose him. After all this time, he had finally gotten a place for himself in her heart. That in itself was enough for him.

Yet he had gotten even more than that. Just as he had lost his sight, he had seen a blurry image of the girl’s face, mixed with tears, and snot, giving him a contrived, but a beautiful smile, fulfilling his last request. It was the most beautiful smile he had seen in his life. He had already gotten much more than he had asked for. And as the last of his life left him, Alnea Oathkeeper admitted to himself that everything he had done for his salvation was worth it.

“...please…”

Alnea Oathkeeper felt invincible. He felt that he could do anything in the world. But at the same time, he also felt torn. Though all his sensations were leaving him, he started feeling an ache in his chest. Although he liked the fact that he had made enough room for himself in the girl’s heart that she would cry for him, in the end, he could not bear hearing her cry. He could not raise his hands to wipe her tears away, but he thought he could offer a word to comfort her. Yet as he attempted to open his mouth, he choked on his own blood. Still, he did not give up, trying once again. And again. And again. And…

While trying his best to speak, Alnea Oathkeeper noticed that he had not been hearing the girl’s sobbing voice for a while. It looked like he had finally lost his hearing. He had lost his only source of comfort, his only remaining connection with his salvation. And that scared him. But… that was how death was supposed to be like. Silent, peaceful, and empty. So, why was he scared? Why did he keep thinking of her? Why did she keep coming to his mind? What he had done for her was enough. He was already dead. It was time to let go…

Just as that thought came to him, he rejected it right away. How could he let go? Would she feel lonely? Would she miss him? Would she remember him? He had spent so much time trying to make her smile, and had barely succeeded in it… Who was he trying to bluff? That was not a smile. That was just a cry. A sad, and pitiful cry. She was sad, and crying, unable to bear seeing him go. But did that not mean that he had made a palace for himself in her heart? After he was gone, would all his work end up in vain?

As all those thoughts came to him, another thought, one that lived deep inside of him, came to the fore as well. And so, he wondered, did the girl understand how he had felt for her? What if she had not? What if she remembered him as just someone who kept bothering her, and in the end, died trying to save her? Would she even remember him a few years later? What would she tell her children about him? No…

It was quite strange, Alnea Oathkeeper thought, that even after his death, the pain in his chest still lingered, and grew stronger, throbbing with each of his thoughts. If ghosts, or souls, or whatever that he had become could cry, he was sure that he would have found himself pouring rivers out of his eyes. Because in the end, he could never imagine the girl with anyone else. She was his salvation. If she was supposed to have children, then it should have been with him. He had to be the one to be with her. He had to be the one…

Drifting in the endless, and empty void, just like the empty void inside of him, drowning him in his loneliness, Alnea Oathkeeper did not know where he was, or what he had become. There were no records detailing Inkah’s Domain, or what happened after death. There were a few records pertaining to death, but they only detailed how death felt like. And even those records were all lies, and fake. Death was not peaceful. Death was lonely. Death was regret. Death was despair.

No matter how he waited, it was the same. No light came to him. No peace came to him. Only despair did. And regret. Endless regrets. They came from within him, from inside his chest, and without, from the void around him. And the two somehow joined forces, spreading from his chest to every part of his being, tearing him apart, piece by piece. Alnea Oathkeeper had not known such pain in his life. It went beyond any reason. He tried to scream, but he could not. He had no mouth. He tried to lash his hands out, but he could not. He had no hands. He–