Not a Hero

“What can I do?” I can feel my heart kicking wildly my ribcage. “What can I do!!”

    Maybe there’s still a healing potion left, maybe there’ll be in the city. I just need to bring Mira back there. She’ll be fine. She just needs some care and it’ll be fine.

“Amako.”

    I shiver.

“I’m sorry… I don’t think I’ll be able to help you more than I did.” She pauses. “Amako..? Can you promise me one thing?”

    These wounds… She used herself as a shield to protect me from the emissary’s attack, didn’t she? How could I let this happen… Why haven’t I even been able to fight a stupid illusion myself?! I knew the emissary was going to use this trick.

    I hate this. I hate being weak.

    As I find myself unable to answer her, Mira resumes.

“Please, don’t give up. If someone can save our world, then I am sure that it’s you.”

    Cruel… These are cruel words.

“Don’t say such things…” I shake my head. “I’m not even the Saintess you think I am. I-”

“Silly. I’m not asking it to the Saintess.” She reaches out her hand to place it against my cheek, her fingers brushing my skin. Her fingers… I can feel them tremble as she does her best to keep the gesture gentle. “I’m asking it to you. To the kind girl I learnt to know. I believe in you…”

“Don’t… Please, don’t.”

“…you don’t need to be someone else, just Amako.” She mid-closes her eyes, as if it was becoming difficult for her to keep them open. “Amako is fine.”

“Mira…”

    Slowly, still caressing my cheek, Mira lowers her face closer to mine.

    But then, as if a hesitation has struck her, she pauses her move. Instead, she offers me a bright, genuine smile.

“This world needs you, stay alive.”

    I open my mouth to answer her. To say that she’s dumb, that Tyffeon and I will finish the emissary, that we’ll bring her back to Makhlubi. To say that she’s just making a fool of herself, that I’ll use it to tease her when she’ll be healed. To say that I care about her. That I want her to stay.

    But this is the moment Timoria chooses to strike, and a branch sweeps Mira from the side. Sending her rolling on a few metres.

    In a rush, I rise to my knees. I run to her. To catch her, to hold her back.

    Mira’s body rolls and rolls against the stone, finally slowing down as she reaches the edge of the walkway.

    It takes a second.

    A second for her to lose her precarious balance, a second for her body to fall into the sea of mist.

“Mira!!” I scream, reaching out my hand as I hastily kneel on the edge, leaning forward. “MIRA!!!!!”

    But my fingers can’t even brush her as the greyness conceals every trace, every remnant of hope.

    The silence which follows… It hurts. It doesn’t match my screaming mind.

    Tears roll down my cheeks as I clench my teeth.

    This silence… I hate it. I wish I could crush it.

“That’s too bad.” A voice rises from behind. The emissary… “I might have tossed her with too much strength, now her blood is lost. Ahhh, ahhh… What a waste.”

    Her words make my blood boil.

“What did you say…” My words fill with grudge as I straighten up. “This is all that comes to your mind… She didn’t deserve such an end.”

    The clouds gathered above our heads become more ominous, and a distant rumble resonates all around.

    I almost trusted her.

    She said she believed me. She said the world needs me. But who needs someone who can’t even save a friend?

    A hero would have saved Mira. Me… At what cost would someone like me be able to save this world?

    I am not a hero. It would be a lie to let her believe me. But…

    Over the emissary’s features, a pleased expression.

“Heeeh. I like that spark in your gaze. That wasn’t there before. Now that she’s gone, you’ll give me your whole attention. We’re gonna have fun… lots, lots of fun!”

    …How I am supposed to tell her that she’s wrong if she’s gone?

    All around the emissary of the Taint, leaves circle in a now everlasting whirlwind. Ensuring her security, not letting any opening to approach her.

    I hate it.

    A droplet. A second one.

    I hate it.

    The rain begins to pour, drenching us, crushing against the black stones. I barely pay attention to it, deaf to the drumming of the droplets rushing down. My thoughts focused on a sole idea, droplets of blood pearling where my nails have pierced my skin.

    To crush her. To defeat her. To reduce her to ashes.

    I want to be her end. Whatever the cost.

“You’re gonna pay for that.”

    Even if I lose my sanity.

    Around us, the air thickens, getting heavier as the first lightning bites the darkness, followed by close rumbles.

    I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate myself.

***

    With the first droplets crushing over his body, Tyffeon stirs awake from what occurred to be mere nightmares. He curses himself for not having been able to escape the illusions by himself. But if he hasn’t been able to… then how? What did happen when his mind was clouded by ridiculous preoccupations?

    As he rises to his feet, Tyffeon notices that instead of being cold, the rain feels oddly warm. A sensation which permeates him, washing away the suffocating fears Timoria tried to consume him with.

    But this feeling couldn’t be more at odds with the tension in the air, not letting him delve longer upon it.

    The emissary is still standing, their previous attempts to take her down mocked by her stamina. But what concerns him even more is the figure of Amako, facing the emissary, out of the reach of the swirling leaves. Thankfully. This said, what reassures him less is the expression upon her features… he has never seen it before. There’s something crude, almost grim.

    And the catgirl… she is nowhere to be seen.

    He frowns.

“Amako!” He calls.

    He calls, but the sound doesn’t seem to reach her. Undone by the rain.

    Instead, it’s a sudden thunderbolt which crosses the sky until reaching the walkway, bursting cobbles near Timoria, narrowly missing her.

    His eyes open wide.

“Is this…”

    Another follows. Another.

    Each of them hits the walkway randomly, wreaking havoc, matching the wrath, the rancour in her eyes. Amako looks different. An eerie smile etched on her features.

    A Saintess only in name.

***

    The expression of disbelief displayed by the emissary stirs something in me. A satisfaction I can’t contain as the blood rushes in my veins.

    I want her to pay the price, to fear the next lightning might strike her.

“Come on, beg for your life.”

“Beg?” The emissary echoes. “Aaah. Yes, please. Please. Show me mor-”

    Before she can properly end her sentence, a thunderbolt tears the sky apart, zigzagging before crashing right onto her with a thud. The scream it snatches from her blends with the ruckus brought along with the flash of light.

“Wrong answer.” I scold.

    Despite the damages, the emissary still stands before me when the attack dissipates, panting. Panting, yet calmer than she should have been.

“Show me… Show me how alike we are.” She breathes.

    The words make something shift within me.

    I don’t even notice that the following thunderbolts begin to hit the walkway randomly, missing the target but putting in danger any other form of life present there.

    Not wasting more of her time, the cutting leaves swirling around the emissary extend all around, swirling in a larger and larger circle, threatening to reduce to shreds whatever crosses their path.

    The idea of moving away doesn’t even cross my mind.

    Until a sudden stomping echoes, the black cobbles ripped off the ground in a wave directed at us.

“Now that’s enough.” The voice of the Beastmen’s ruler sternly rises.