Venia Silente
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Hello everyone, long time no see. Here I bring this little story I wrote a few weeks ago at the prodding of some members of the PMD Writers United community, who said I had to provide a kill with evidence. Well, here it is.
(No, technically this is not the first time I kill a character but it *is* likely the first time ever it's the focus of a story)
Enjoy!
Content Warning: Major Character Death
A Lucario dragged himself out of his hiding spot under a broken rock spire; he winced at his leg wounds and wandered across the grainy plateau, looking around under the moonlit sky at the remains of the rocky spires decorating the place. At a granite slab further ahead he saw his Luxray companion.
“We’ll have to get them some other way, Sasqūe,” snarled the feline, stretching and trying to dust himself off as he looked up into the sky. The feline’s eyes shone a ghostly yellow as they tracked four airships ascending from the mountains and into the cloudy eastern sky.
The Lucario angrily kicked a pebble or two to vent some of his frustration, but the pain from his wounds would not let him do more. “How did they even find this place?” he yelled to no one in particular, though his anger was clearly intended for the escaping airships, the faint wooshing of their miasma engines mocking the two Pokémon trapped below.
Sasqūe heard something move and turned to see Keller limp over from his hiding spot to one of the lowest spires and stand besides it, still uneasily looking it up.
“You okay?” inquired the feline, perhaps sarcastically and without looking at him. “You really did not like the idea of staking out Tianjì Aerie in the first place… not to mention the raid…”
The Lucario sighed in defeat at the reminder, and kept his head low. Two weeks – no, more, an entire life he would say, gone to heck at the very last moment. He felt like he owed it to himself to look up the sky, to the star that had served them as a guide, but between the taste of dust stuck to his tongue and the pain that now made him aware of all of his muscles, he knew there was only the faintest hope of recovery.
“...No, it’s not okay,” Sasqūe muttered, dropping on all fours out of tiredness. Eyes shut, he punched the ground. “It’s over, the Eltan Eye already looms high… Only the death of a World Changer would activate its spell.”
The two Pokémon listened for a moment as the airships stealing their target ascended from the mountain, signalling the pair’s total failure; a moment after, they both finally took a long look at the night sky, with the stars now more visible without the intervention of the airships, and now prominently featuring the eery, winking green star in the north sky that had guided their path.
It was not like they had anything better to do, so the two Pokémon got up and limped closer to the final line of rock spires close to the plateau’s edge to watch as the invaders left.
The two Pokémon panted and wiped their sweat and dust off as they saw the airships off. The Lucario stumbled and haphazardly leaned on a nearby rocky spire and howled in frustration as he watched the first of the airships disappear into the eastern clouds. Keller sat on the ground and fell into a wistful stare into the sky.
“Damn it!” In his anger the Lucario backhanded the spire hard, his paw spike getting lodged into the rock for a moment. He muttered some expletives until he managed to free his paw from the rock, then he turned to focus on the Luxray. “We needed that kill,” he spoke sharply, though still unable to hide his disappointment.
The Luxray’s stare into the sky did not waver, and the Lucario found himself unable to take his eyes off the other Pokémon. He found himself unable to concede defeat – yet unable to win, not to mention unable to understand his partner Luxray’s weird determination.
The Lucario reminded himself of the green star above, and even though he would not dare look right at it lording the night sky – not right now, at least – he could swear he could see its green shine growing up even in the ground around him, as if coercing the entire world around Sasqūe to demand from him an answer.
At the very front of Sasqūe’s mind, his mind raced to not take this humiliation. Surely there had to be some hope. Something he could do…
Sasqūe’s eyes narrowed at Keller.
There needed to be a killing for the spell to come into function.
Sasqūe’s muscles tensed, he sniffed the air instinctively seeking out any indication that Keller would relax, he was so difficult to read sometimes. Perhaps, if Sasqūe was very lucky, the Eltan Eye would settle for simple mortals instead of a World Changer.
Carefully, he took one step closer to his friend. The pair had been so close to landing the killing blow, to make all those weeks of stakeouts, bribes and torture worth it, they had executed their raid into the hidden aerie to near perfection – only to have their chance at herodom stolen from them. The Clefairy army and their airships had made quick work of the cave’s defenses, they had come in and gone out with their captive in tow far too fast for the Lucario and Luxray to be able to do anything about it.
The reminder that the two Pokémon had been paid for this job by the Clefairy themselves almost prompted Sasqūe to chew on his own tongue out of sheer anger.
The Lucario took one step, now two steps in the direction of his friend, and finally found in his nerves the power to turn his head to the sky to watch as the ships finally disappeared amidst the eternal clouds. Gone to who knows where. Leaving no witness except for the two of them.
It did not have to be that way. They did not have to lose everything. If Keller’s perception was true as the Pokémon remained locked in his attention to the sky, Sasqūe still had a chance to reach a higher world.
“You’re very focused on the sky,” Sasqūe asked softly, in between two steps. “Is it… that you can still see?”
Keller turned ever so only slightly to Sasqūe’s direction, just enough to catch his movement in the corner of his eye. The Lucario limped and almost tripped over; not that he would have needed to feign weakness or tiredness or to mask killing intent. Not to his best friend.
“I see them turning the airships,” Keller answered, returning his sight to the cloud layer, “three distinct ways. Even if we could give chase, we’d have to split ways,” he added with a sort of mournful shake of his head.
Sasqūe took two more steps. His fists clenched, he had to rein in the intrinsic desire to bare his fangs; he breathed hard – it still pained his lungs even after some minutes of rest – and playfully dragged himself down to the ground, disguising his pouncing stance as well as he could with his battered body. Keller was certainly not doing any better, bothering only to return his attention to the sky and the fading sound of the airships’ engines.
“But I can still see them as always, see all the enemies,” Keller lamented.
The Lucario and the Luxray were now close enough, beaten enough. Sasqūe pooled in just a teensy bit of fighting energy, bent his knees ever so slightly for his move. All that was left was kill.
The Lucario pondered the situation for perhaps a second… if not an hour. It would be wrong for Keller to defend himself – why wouldn’t he trust him? They had all come this far together, each of their friends laying their lives so the Lucario could even find the Aerie and then raid it despite the many losses, like real friends would do; thus it would be – in Sasqūe’s eyes – way out of character for Keller to not wish the Lucario victory and do everything in his power to make it happen. Moreover if Sasqūe could take one of the Luxray’s eyes for himself, and his meat as sustenance, if the spell would still somehow activate for the lesser Pokémon, perhaps the Lucario could honour his best friend’s memory by donning his sight-into-the-heavens that they would both be able to carry on with the chase, for the Luxray would now forever be with him, be part of him.
The two Pokémon were tired, battered and betrayed.
It was the Luxray in his dutiful observance who blinked first; before the abyss could stare back at the feline, Sasqūe’s feet had already left the ground and his left hand spike drew an arc towards Keller’s shoulder.
Yet the cat was not there when the jackal swung. Sasqūe landed uneasily where Keller had stood, and now instinctively sought out the slippery prey, his ears flickering to catch drift of the black mane swinging in the wind, somewhere by the Lucario’s right.
Before Sasqūe could fully recover Keller sprung across and tackled him now from the left, and the Lucario felt his breath taken away as he rolled on the ground. He was quick to recover thanks to years of experience, he supported himself on one arm and swung his body to leap back into a standing position and near instantly his left paw summoned a small, glowing blue sphere that Sasqūe shoot at the Luxray as fast as he could.
Keller was a feline however, and with a minute arcing and twisting of his torso he leaned left and allowed the orb to shoot past in a motion so simple that the Lucario thought it was unfair. “What are you doing?” Keller asked, fangs bared, as if he did not already know the answer.
For an answer, Sasqūe bent his knees and brought one arm up, readying himself for another attack. He also bared his fangs. “No, what are YOU doing?” he yelled, as if he also did not already know the answer, all the while feeling the greet star’s dim light creep into his eyes.
The two Pokémon charged at each other, slashing and clawing a couple of times; in their extreme tiredness they could barely each put a dent on the other’s defense, and a tense moment after they circled around each other, with the Lucario taking the opportunity to manifest a hammer-like construct with his aura that he swung right at the Luxray’s temple; a move that would have been fatal against any other enemy, but that was met with roar and a pitiful stare as Keller got back up from an attack so drastically enfeebled by the wounds, the hunger, the dehydration and the Luxray’s own knowledge of the Lucario’s fighting style.
But Sasqūe would not give up. He could feel the Eltan Eye judging him. He could feel the world falling apart around him. This night needed to make sense. He was ready for the next strike, he was sure it would be fatal, as not many opponents were cognizant that Lucario could pool and construct Aura not only from their paws, but also from their chest and tail if they were properly trained.
The two Pokémon inched closer to each other and, right as they traded two blows, Sasqūe sprung the final trap. He knew Keller would dive to his right. Sasqūe’s aura shot from his paws into claws, his face turned to seek the foe, his chest spike front for the defense as his tail would construct the spearhook that would pierce the back of Keller neck just as the feline would turn towards Sasqūe to block.
As if.
Too late did the Lucario realize that Keller had shot into his range too fast, too low; his plan had been to dive past, not to face him up. Sasqūe suddenly found his right arm tied by Keller’s tail and in the surprise the Lucario could do nothing to avoid losing balance and falling to the ground as the Luxray pulled and dragged him just a couple steps to more grainy ground.
Sasqūe struggled, he tried to regain balance against the loose pebbles to get up as he saw the Luxray turn and pounce; the Lucario tried to put up his left arm in front of him to block and realized right then he was lost: Keller had calculated the pounce to be just high enough to skip both Sasqūe’s arms and his claw constructs, and to start early enough that the feline would not overshoot the Lucario’s body again.
The Lucario on the ground simply could not fight back in time and something in the recess of his mind made sure he wouldn’t fight back in time: for just as the Luxray pinned him down and clung to his left arm and shoulder, the Lucario saw right above the sharp fangs closing in on his neck, the unmistakable figure of a single tear running down the feline’s cheek.
The pain was short-lived, or at least that was the impression Sasqūe got: in their world, there was no time to sit back and contemplate pain. The Lucario felt a tremendous but brief weight in his chest and a sudden difficulty breathing, though he was sure that kind of thing would no longer matter. Keller held him in a strong, definite and comfortable grip by the neck and for a good moment would not let go: after all, weren’t they best friends?
Sasqūe dropped to the ground, now free of the hug. He shook a couple of times, tried to fight for something, for anything, tried and made motion to speak, to demand that his friend apologized for failing him, for not supporting his victory in this quest – but nothing came out but drowned warbles. The Lucario’s eyes lost focus and caught only mostly a green shine in the sky, and with the added scent of his own blood, he understood the bitter betrayal of the stars to be for the better. After all, a kill was needed, and if the stars would mock Sasqūe to this point in his failure, at least from now on Keller would not fail, would not recede in what had now become his quest.
All Sasqūe could lament on his end of things was that he had been not strong enough to force the world to make sense; he found he had, in a way, failed his best friend by leaving him open to the opportunity for betrayal, the opportunity to not commit to their friendship fully and truly. Sasqūe found it a sad reminder of mortality in the dark of this failure, that his loss had been made even more absolute by the simple fact that Keller was better equipped to carry on with the chase anyway.
Sasqūe’s eyes closed. He could no longer hear the airships in the distance and instead could only mostly hear Keller’s laborious breath. He smelled blood – both their bloods… How had he forgotten what their blood smelled like? It was, he guessed, the months and years of work and struggle where he had avoided most mortal danger by the efforts and sacrifices of his friends.
The Lucario heaved, pondered on his own mistake; but was there ever a mistake of his, though? The world had gone crazy before he was even born, yet people still managed to make as much sense of it as they could. Sasqūe always tried his best, his team always came out on top of things, and they had had a good life despite the war.
He gulped, but felt as if nothing could ever reach his stomach, and the lack of any sensation of fulfilment, of wholeness, ignited a last spark of fear and anger. No! It was the world that was at fault! His friends were always weak – silly, cheerful and weak – and even if they tried their best, even if they gave everything for him they should not have lost in the first place. The Clefairy army – how could they even maneuver airships anyway? – had underpaid him, betrayed him and now stolen from him his one chance of fixing the world. His prey, the goddess that he had set out to sacrifice for the greater good, could not defend herself from the Clefairy and fell to their traps before she could offer herself in sacrifice for the Lucario’s greatness…
And the green eye in the sky, it slowly shone brighter, even if it was not Sasqūe who had fulfilled the terms of the deal. Keller’s hectic breath slowly calmed down as it brushed over the Lucario’s neck and chest. Sasqūe would have grinned had he felt any energy left for it. In the most important event of their lives, Keller, his one best friend, had had the gall to stray from the efforts of their teammates, to stray from true friendship, and become the only one of them to fail to die for him. And yet the Eltan Eye lit up.
For such a sour turn of events, the Lucario had to admit in his sudden lucidity that he should have seen it coming. He could finally muster what what left of his now stained aura, and put everything he had into a laboured, fraternal smile that framed his last attempt of a breath – even in this betrayal he would die smiling. He died among friends, and to a worthy enemy. Of course Keller would have made sure to stay on the looser ground. Of course he would not have let Sasqūe peek into his eyes and focused in the sky instead. Of course the cat would know to dive past the tail and avoid the spearhook he should have no way to know it was coming. Of course the true parting pain would be for the Luxray to have to remember this day for the rest of his life.
After all, like the feline had said: he could always – always – see all his enemies; for sure he would have never lost sight of his best friend.
Wiki Link. Also available on AO3.
(No, technically this is not the first time I kill a character but it *is* likely the first time ever it's the focus of a story)
Enjoy!
Content Warning: Major Character Death
“Blink, Slowly”
A Lucario dragged himself out of his hiding spot under a broken rock spire; he winced at his leg wounds and wandered across the grainy plateau, looking around under the moonlit sky at the remains of the rocky spires decorating the place. At a granite slab further ahead he saw his Luxray companion.
“We’ll have to get them some other way, Sasqūe,” snarled the feline, stretching and trying to dust himself off as he looked up into the sky. The feline’s eyes shone a ghostly yellow as they tracked four airships ascending from the mountains and into the cloudy eastern sky.
The Lucario angrily kicked a pebble or two to vent some of his frustration, but the pain from his wounds would not let him do more. “How did they even find this place?” he yelled to no one in particular, though his anger was clearly intended for the escaping airships, the faint wooshing of their miasma engines mocking the two Pokémon trapped below.
Sasqūe heard something move and turned to see Keller limp over from his hiding spot to one of the lowest spires and stand besides it, still uneasily looking it up.
“You okay?” inquired the feline, perhaps sarcastically and without looking at him. “You really did not like the idea of staking out Tianjì Aerie in the first place… not to mention the raid…”
The Lucario sighed in defeat at the reminder, and kept his head low. Two weeks – no, more, an entire life he would say, gone to heck at the very last moment. He felt like he owed it to himself to look up the sky, to the star that had served them as a guide, but between the taste of dust stuck to his tongue and the pain that now made him aware of all of his muscles, he knew there was only the faintest hope of recovery.
“...No, it’s not okay,” Sasqūe muttered, dropping on all fours out of tiredness. Eyes shut, he punched the ground. “It’s over, the Eltan Eye already looms high… Only the death of a World Changer would activate its spell.”
The two Pokémon listened for a moment as the airships stealing their target ascended from the mountain, signalling the pair’s total failure; a moment after, they both finally took a long look at the night sky, with the stars now more visible without the intervention of the airships, and now prominently featuring the eery, winking green star in the north sky that had guided their path.
It was not like they had anything better to do, so the two Pokémon got up and limped closer to the final line of rock spires close to the plateau’s edge to watch as the invaders left.
The two Pokémon panted and wiped their sweat and dust off as they saw the airships off. The Lucario stumbled and haphazardly leaned on a nearby rocky spire and howled in frustration as he watched the first of the airships disappear into the eastern clouds. Keller sat on the ground and fell into a wistful stare into the sky.
“Damn it!” In his anger the Lucario backhanded the spire hard, his paw spike getting lodged into the rock for a moment. He muttered some expletives until he managed to free his paw from the rock, then he turned to focus on the Luxray. “We needed that kill,” he spoke sharply, though still unable to hide his disappointment.
The Luxray’s stare into the sky did not waver, and the Lucario found himself unable to take his eyes off the other Pokémon. He found himself unable to concede defeat – yet unable to win, not to mention unable to understand his partner Luxray’s weird determination.
The Lucario reminded himself of the green star above, and even though he would not dare look right at it lording the night sky – not right now, at least – he could swear he could see its green shine growing up even in the ground around him, as if coercing the entire world around Sasqūe to demand from him an answer.
At the very front of Sasqūe’s mind, his mind raced to not take this humiliation. Surely there had to be some hope. Something he could do…
Sasqūe’s eyes narrowed at Keller.
There needed to be a killing for the spell to come into function.
Sasqūe’s muscles tensed, he sniffed the air instinctively seeking out any indication that Keller would relax, he was so difficult to read sometimes. Perhaps, if Sasqūe was very lucky, the Eltan Eye would settle for simple mortals instead of a World Changer.
Carefully, he took one step closer to his friend. The pair had been so close to landing the killing blow, to make all those weeks of stakeouts, bribes and torture worth it, they had executed their raid into the hidden aerie to near perfection – only to have their chance at herodom stolen from them. The Clefairy army and their airships had made quick work of the cave’s defenses, they had come in and gone out with their captive in tow far too fast for the Lucario and Luxray to be able to do anything about it.
The reminder that the two Pokémon had been paid for this job by the Clefairy themselves almost prompted Sasqūe to chew on his own tongue out of sheer anger.
The Lucario took one step, now two steps in the direction of his friend, and finally found in his nerves the power to turn his head to the sky to watch as the ships finally disappeared amidst the eternal clouds. Gone to who knows where. Leaving no witness except for the two of them.
It did not have to be that way. They did not have to lose everything. If Keller’s perception was true as the Pokémon remained locked in his attention to the sky, Sasqūe still had a chance to reach a higher world.
“You’re very focused on the sky,” Sasqūe asked softly, in between two steps. “Is it… that you can still see?”
Keller turned ever so only slightly to Sasqūe’s direction, just enough to catch his movement in the corner of his eye. The Lucario limped and almost tripped over; not that he would have needed to feign weakness or tiredness or to mask killing intent. Not to his best friend.
“I see them turning the airships,” Keller answered, returning his sight to the cloud layer, “three distinct ways. Even if we could give chase, we’d have to split ways,” he added with a sort of mournful shake of his head.
Sasqūe took two more steps. His fists clenched, he had to rein in the intrinsic desire to bare his fangs; he breathed hard – it still pained his lungs even after some minutes of rest – and playfully dragged himself down to the ground, disguising his pouncing stance as well as he could with his battered body. Keller was certainly not doing any better, bothering only to return his attention to the sky and the fading sound of the airships’ engines.
“But I can still see them as always, see all the enemies,” Keller lamented.
The Lucario and the Luxray were now close enough, beaten enough. Sasqūe pooled in just a teensy bit of fighting energy, bent his knees ever so slightly for his move. All that was left was kill.
The Lucario pondered the situation for perhaps a second… if not an hour. It would be wrong for Keller to defend himself – why wouldn’t he trust him? They had all come this far together, each of their friends laying their lives so the Lucario could even find the Aerie and then raid it despite the many losses, like real friends would do; thus it would be – in Sasqūe’s eyes – way out of character for Keller to not wish the Lucario victory and do everything in his power to make it happen. Moreover if Sasqūe could take one of the Luxray’s eyes for himself, and his meat as sustenance, if the spell would still somehow activate for the lesser Pokémon, perhaps the Lucario could honour his best friend’s memory by donning his sight-into-the-heavens that they would both be able to carry on with the chase, for the Luxray would now forever be with him, be part of him.
The two Pokémon were tired, battered and betrayed.
It was the Luxray in his dutiful observance who blinked first; before the abyss could stare back at the feline, Sasqūe’s feet had already left the ground and his left hand spike drew an arc towards Keller’s shoulder.
Yet the cat was not there when the jackal swung. Sasqūe landed uneasily where Keller had stood, and now instinctively sought out the slippery prey, his ears flickering to catch drift of the black mane swinging in the wind, somewhere by the Lucario’s right.
Before Sasqūe could fully recover Keller sprung across and tackled him now from the left, and the Lucario felt his breath taken away as he rolled on the ground. He was quick to recover thanks to years of experience, he supported himself on one arm and swung his body to leap back into a standing position and near instantly his left paw summoned a small, glowing blue sphere that Sasqūe shoot at the Luxray as fast as he could.
Keller was a feline however, and with a minute arcing and twisting of his torso he leaned left and allowed the orb to shoot past in a motion so simple that the Lucario thought it was unfair. “What are you doing?” Keller asked, fangs bared, as if he did not already know the answer.
For an answer, Sasqūe bent his knees and brought one arm up, readying himself for another attack. He also bared his fangs. “No, what are YOU doing?” he yelled, as if he also did not already know the answer, all the while feeling the greet star’s dim light creep into his eyes.
The two Pokémon charged at each other, slashing and clawing a couple of times; in their extreme tiredness they could barely each put a dent on the other’s defense, and a tense moment after they circled around each other, with the Lucario taking the opportunity to manifest a hammer-like construct with his aura that he swung right at the Luxray’s temple; a move that would have been fatal against any other enemy, but that was met with roar and a pitiful stare as Keller got back up from an attack so drastically enfeebled by the wounds, the hunger, the dehydration and the Luxray’s own knowledge of the Lucario’s fighting style.
But Sasqūe would not give up. He could feel the Eltan Eye judging him. He could feel the world falling apart around him. This night needed to make sense. He was ready for the next strike, he was sure it would be fatal, as not many opponents were cognizant that Lucario could pool and construct Aura not only from their paws, but also from their chest and tail if they were properly trained.
The two Pokémon inched closer to each other and, right as they traded two blows, Sasqūe sprung the final trap. He knew Keller would dive to his right. Sasqūe’s aura shot from his paws into claws, his face turned to seek the foe, his chest spike front for the defense as his tail would construct the spearhook that would pierce the back of Keller neck just as the feline would turn towards Sasqūe to block.
As if.
Too late did the Lucario realize that Keller had shot into his range too fast, too low; his plan had been to dive past, not to face him up. Sasqūe suddenly found his right arm tied by Keller’s tail and in the surprise the Lucario could do nothing to avoid losing balance and falling to the ground as the Luxray pulled and dragged him just a couple steps to more grainy ground.
Sasqūe struggled, he tried to regain balance against the loose pebbles to get up as he saw the Luxray turn and pounce; the Lucario tried to put up his left arm in front of him to block and realized right then he was lost: Keller had calculated the pounce to be just high enough to skip both Sasqūe’s arms and his claw constructs, and to start early enough that the feline would not overshoot the Lucario’s body again.
The Lucario on the ground simply could not fight back in time and something in the recess of his mind made sure he wouldn’t fight back in time: for just as the Luxray pinned him down and clung to his left arm and shoulder, the Lucario saw right above the sharp fangs closing in on his neck, the unmistakable figure of a single tear running down the feline’s cheek.
The pain was short-lived, or at least that was the impression Sasqūe got: in their world, there was no time to sit back and contemplate pain. The Lucario felt a tremendous but brief weight in his chest and a sudden difficulty breathing, though he was sure that kind of thing would no longer matter. Keller held him in a strong, definite and comfortable grip by the neck and for a good moment would not let go: after all, weren’t they best friends?
Sasqūe dropped to the ground, now free of the hug. He shook a couple of times, tried to fight for something, for anything, tried and made motion to speak, to demand that his friend apologized for failing him, for not supporting his victory in this quest – but nothing came out but drowned warbles. The Lucario’s eyes lost focus and caught only mostly a green shine in the sky, and with the added scent of his own blood, he understood the bitter betrayal of the stars to be for the better. After all, a kill was needed, and if the stars would mock Sasqūe to this point in his failure, at least from now on Keller would not fail, would not recede in what had now become his quest.
All Sasqūe could lament on his end of things was that he had been not strong enough to force the world to make sense; he found he had, in a way, failed his best friend by leaving him open to the opportunity for betrayal, the opportunity to not commit to their friendship fully and truly. Sasqūe found it a sad reminder of mortality in the dark of this failure, that his loss had been made even more absolute by the simple fact that Keller was better equipped to carry on with the chase anyway.
Sasqūe’s eyes closed. He could no longer hear the airships in the distance and instead could only mostly hear Keller’s laborious breath. He smelled blood – both their bloods… How had he forgotten what their blood smelled like? It was, he guessed, the months and years of work and struggle where he had avoided most mortal danger by the efforts and sacrifices of his friends.
The Lucario heaved, pondered on his own mistake; but was there ever a mistake of his, though? The world had gone crazy before he was even born, yet people still managed to make as much sense of it as they could. Sasqūe always tried his best, his team always came out on top of things, and they had had a good life despite the war.
He gulped, but felt as if nothing could ever reach his stomach, and the lack of any sensation of fulfilment, of wholeness, ignited a last spark of fear and anger. No! It was the world that was at fault! His friends were always weak – silly, cheerful and weak – and even if they tried their best, even if they gave everything for him they should not have lost in the first place. The Clefairy army – how could they even maneuver airships anyway? – had underpaid him, betrayed him and now stolen from him his one chance of fixing the world. His prey, the goddess that he had set out to sacrifice for the greater good, could not defend herself from the Clefairy and fell to their traps before she could offer herself in sacrifice for the Lucario’s greatness…
And the green eye in the sky, it slowly shone brighter, even if it was not Sasqūe who had fulfilled the terms of the deal. Keller’s hectic breath slowly calmed down as it brushed over the Lucario’s neck and chest. Sasqūe would have grinned had he felt any energy left for it. In the most important event of their lives, Keller, his one best friend, had had the gall to stray from the efforts of their teammates, to stray from true friendship, and become the only one of them to fail to die for him. And yet the Eltan Eye lit up.
For such a sour turn of events, the Lucario had to admit in his sudden lucidity that he should have seen it coming. He could finally muster what what left of his now stained aura, and put everything he had into a laboured, fraternal smile that framed his last attempt of a breath – even in this betrayal he would die smiling. He died among friends, and to a worthy enemy. Of course Keller would have made sure to stay on the looser ground. Of course he would not have let Sasqūe peek into his eyes and focused in the sky instead. Of course the cat would know to dive past the tail and avoid the spearhook he should have no way to know it was coming. Of course the true parting pain would be for the Luxray to have to remember this day for the rest of his life.
After all, like the feline had said: he could always – always – see all his enemies; for sure he would have never lost sight of his best friend.
Wiki Link. Also available on AO3.
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