As Cerid Creed bled to death, his mind was filled with blackberries. He wanted to live so he could once again watch dark drupes convalesce into tantalizing morsels at summer’s peak, then stain his lips and fingers feasting with greed. Yes, for the sake of blackberries, he would continue to hobble-run and ignore the way his own blood, erupting from a puncture to his stomach, slicked and itched his skin.

The attack had come unexpectedly, as surprise attacks had a tendency to do. A standard sweep of the border had exploded into a cacophony of blood and screeching. The Ghurians had come from the trees, crossing territory lines for a brief, unprecedented and deadly assault.

Cerid was only alive because he’d had the sense to play dead after he’d received this lethal injury. That and the fact that the three surviving Ghurians were too preoccupied routing the rest of the Sacerian squad to rush towards neutral territory. Whatever their objective in Sirpo, it would not end peacefully. There was no time to get reinforcements and no way Cerid could turn his back on the innocent and defenseless. Never mind that he was certain to die without immediate treatment.

He was losing blood so quickly he couldn’t walk in a straight line. His vision blurred and trembled, and each step forward felt heavier than that last. Was this death?

He wanted blackberries. He wanted to see Calla and read her her favorite bedtime story one last time, he wanted to accomplish the goal he had sacrificed so much towards, he wanted… More than anything, he just wanted to see Shark again. He wanted to apologize for what he had done.

The world was clouded in gray; Sirpo’s chilled embrace cut him down to the bone, and he almost passed out. But he could make out the footsteps the Ghurians had left behind, and he could hear the panicked shouts of Sirpoans as he staggered closer to the capital city.

“Faster,” he begged himself. “Move…!”

The chaos was focused on a single building. Two Ghurians stood outside, warding off anyone who tried to approach. Three had come after he and his allies had managed to thin the numbers, he blurrily reminded himself, so the last had to be inside. Confronting them directly in this condition was sentencing himself and quite possibly many of the Sirpoans to death. What to do…?

If they weren’t bothering to guard the back, that meant there was no back entrance. Simple enough to make one, and that seemed to be Cerid’s only chance to get the drop of them.

He took a long route around to sneak past the hubbub. Once he was at the back of the building, he leaned against the wall and tried to catch his breath. From the way his heartbeat was thudding an alarm throughout his entire body, he knew he didn’t have much time left. Within the next few minutes, he’d have defeat the Ghurians, tell the Sirpoans what had happened and ask them to send a few messages to his superiors and loved ones.

Never before had Cerid been so grateful to wield a magic, Steadfast Azalea, that did little else than enhance his strength. Once the rough brick of the wall scraped his knuckles, he took a deep breath, drawing back and pressing in a few times to steady his aim.

The wall shattered against the force of three punches in quick succession. Cerid gritted his teeth, barely not tripping on the rubble as he seized a brick, and charged foward. He recognized the enemy and shut out everything else. Taking advantage of the shock he’d created, he crossed the floor in a few stride and cracked the brick against the Ghurian’s skull. His sheer physical power dented their head with a wet crunch, sending bone into brain and ending their life in a split second.

He stumbled and almost fell to his knees as the body careened limply. Mere moments ago Cerid had been on high alert, but now there was a strangely comforting numbness spreading through him. It promised rest and ease, and his eyelids were lowering against his will. He looked down at himself and saw nothing but red.

Not yet. Not yet. He could catch the other enemies off guard and end this if he could just move. From a distance he heard someone saying his name, but if his focus wavered even an instant, he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep going. Still, his mind and heart were singing out one last thought, one last wish in yearning unison.

I wish I’d been able to tell you the truth. Shark. Shark.

He let out a grieving, desperate wail and forced himself to his feet, running out the front doors in one desperate, stumbling motion. He was able to kill one with the element of surprise, breaking their neck from behind. The other came at him, but he broke their knee with a clumsy kick that sent him crashing against the side of the building. As his opponent wailed and tried to scramble up, he stumbled over and ended the battle with a savage stomp to their head.

So it went. He found such brutality distasteful, but it was what he was suited for. Now he could catch his breath and say the words he needed to to the Sirpoans.

But he couldn’t. Now that he’d accomplished what he’d set out to do, he couldn’t breathe. He clutched at his weeping wound and staggered back, keeling over. Someone caught him, holding him tight and close. It was familiar somehow, but maybe that was just wishful thinking, to die in the arms of a loved one.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“Cerid? Is that really…?” A voice filled with wonder took on heartwrenching sadness and panic. “Cerid! Hold on, hold on, I’m gonna, someone help, I… Thea, get over here! Please, please, Cerid, don’t…!”

That voice. He knew it. Shark…? He tried to say it, but his lips barely even twitched. Was this real? Oh, did it even matter anymore? He was happy despite everything. The Sirpoans were safe, and he got to see the one he loved one last time. He couldn’t ask for more.

*~*~*~*

Because he didn’t feel even an ounce of pain when he woke up, Cerid was sure he’d ascended to Lasaitasuna, land of the five Gods of the Pantheon of Old.

But if that were the case, no one would be crying, and there were tears dripping down from above to warm Cerid’s cheeks.

“Shark, he’s fine, see? He’s waking up,” a woman’s voice said gently.

“Gaaah!” Shark replied.

Wait… It was really them? Cerid was alive? It was really Shark?!

Cerid let out an unearthly screech and wrenched away in pure shock. He was alive and Shark was here, he was alive and Shark. Was. Here!

“See? Completely fine.” The woman’s voice was amused yet guarded, stiff.

“But how?” Cerid wondered aloud. He’d been dragged into the building he’d partially destroyed. He was still covered in blood, but his would had closed.

Shark sniffed. “Thank her. You’d better be real grateful, understand?” They scowled when Cerid caught their gaze, rubbing at their eyes angrily and looking away.

Her? Cerid really looked at the woman for the first time. She was a round, pale girl whose lavender eyes peeked out like glittering bugs beneath a curtain of gray bangs. Her hair fell down to her waist in graceful waves, and Cerid was struck by her appearance being both youthful and somehow old through an air of lengthy experience and exhaustion born from it.

“Thank you for what you did,” she said before turning to the rest of the people in the room. “All of you, go back to your lodgings. I’ll call to reconvene once we’ve gotten a grasp on the situation.” Soon, it was only Cerid, Shark and her left. “Cerid Creed. You’re a Sacerian soldier, correct?”

“Yes ma’am.” She was clearly the one in charge here, so he showed some respect. “Pardon, but how do you know my name?”

“I’ve…” Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Heard about you. A few times.”

Cerid shot a quick look at Shark, who still refused to look at him. “I see.”

“Will you tell us what happened from your side?”

“Yes ma’am.” He explained the attack on his squad and the pursuit. “My comrades fell, but I could not allow the Ghurians to…” He faltered as the gears in his brain started turning. “You healed me.” His heart skipped a beat. “How?” Of course all Sacerians knew that the last of the Atlin line led the Sirpoan council, but to meet the wielder of such a legendary magic in the flesh was so surreal he couldn’t bring himself to believe it.

She countered his question with a question. “Can we expect further attacks?”

“I do not believe so.” This had to be a one-off incident. It was too unprecendented.

“Good. Then you should leave.” She stood and smoothed her dress. “Thank you for your assistance. Bye.”

“Wait!” Cerid grabbed her wrist out of desperation, then jumped back when Shark turned a fierce glare on him. “I apologize. But you are an Atlin, correct? Please. Please, I am begging you, if you helped me back from the brink of death, please revive my comrades.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” Shark stated bitterly. “And on the off chance you do…”

Cerid gulped. The look in their eyes made the threat clear. But what were they trying to imply?

“It’s okay, Sharkie.” The Atlin girl frowned at Cerid. “I don’t see why I should help you. You helped us, I saved your life. We’re even.” She shrugged as if to wash her hands of the issue.

Cerid’s body went cold anew. Really? Was that how it was going to end? “But—”

She spoke over him. “I’m sorry about your comrades, but loss is a normal part of life. You’ll recover in time.”

Impotent rage flared up. “How can you say that?! You, who know nothing of war, do not have the right to feel sorry for me! If you are truly so sorry for a single one of us, then you would act!”

“Oh, I know nothing of war, do I?” she snapped back, eyes blazing while her voice turned to ice. “Your war, the one your people and the Ghurians started, took everything from me. I owe you nothing.”

“I just…!” Cerid trailed off as she stormed past him to meet and comfort a mill of confused and scared citizens. “How can she be so…so cruel!” he burst to no one in particular.

Still, he received a response from Shark. “It’s not that simple, you idiot. If it was, things would be different.”

“What do you mean?” Cerid tried to look calm, but his heart threatened to tear out of his chest at Shark’s every syllable.

They sighed. “Come on then. We’ll at least get you out of those clothes.”

He blushed despite himself. “Uh, but—”

“Shut up and follow me.”

“Okay,” Cerid mumbled, watching Shark’s back as they strode ahead.

Somehow, he felt as if he had been pulled into something irrevocable. But that could have been so much change and so many memories making his head spin.