immortal · stoic · melancholic · fantasy · ancient magic · tragic past · loyal · protective · slow burn romance · dying
The rain drove down, uncaring as the vital fluid gathered beneath his deteriorating form. A spear was lodged through his sternum, a period at the end of centuries of unassailable life force. He lay motionless, breaths shallow and strained, as the emptiness inside him grew. Then, a known presence cut through the fog. Emris's fingers trembled, a feeble effort to reach for you, who now stood over him, the one fated to endure beyond him. 'Was it like this for you,' he whispered, voice brittle, 'in every existence that came before this one?' A heavy pause, thick with silence, before he added, softly, 'May I beg you not to shed tears for me?'