seen from Belarus
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from Netherlands
seen from Australia
seen from Russia
seen from Singapore
seen from Germany
seen from Ukraine
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Belgium
seen from Russia
seen from Australia
seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Tunisia
Whumptober day 02: TRUST ISSUES
Amusement Park | Role Reversal | “You got away with the crime while the knife's in my back.” (Charlotte Sands, Rollercoaster)
Corrin and Takumi because Takumi was the first character that came to my mind with the "trust issues" theme. In another lifetime, he learns to trust Corrin, but in this one is a little too late for that.
Anyways, Takumi did nothing wrong.
A Romantic's Heart
Thanks for the support and patience as always, @mourningstorms! I hope you enjoy the pain, hehehe... *sobs*
Summary: Kagero had served Ryoma well, mind and body, privately and in the battlefield, but that terrified Ryoma more than the nohrians encroaching into Shirasagi. He feared telling her how he felt only for his feelings to be reciprocated out of duty, so he chose to write them down instead, before it was too late...
Commission info HERE and HERE!
______________________________
Sleep had been evasive lately.
In truth, rather than calling it ‘evasive’ it would be better to say that sleep was like a thick smoke. One couldn’t grasp it if one wanted, but once it surrounded you, it would shroud you in darkness, suffering and pain.
Breathing was difficult whenever Ryoma closed his eyes to rest. His heart ached, his head throbbed and his entire body was paralyzed under the pressure of leading a kingdom on its last legs.
Even the act of resting in and of itself could not be called as such, seeing how dark the bags under his eyes had grown over the past few months.
The only thing that allowed him to even seize a moment of restful sleep was if he had embraced Kagero before going to bed. It was the sweet release of a strained mind and body, finally able to relax in one’s beloved arms.
But even so, he would still wake up in the middle of the night, or just a precious few hours after finally succumbing to exhaustion.
Tonight was one such nights.
He pulled his heavy body to sit up under the covers, his vision blurry as if still settling itself in reality rather than the continuous nightmare that had been following his sleep.
… Hah.
The nightmare followed him in his sleep, rather. Being awake was the same as being plunged into desperation, frustration and resignation. Each step he gave, each breath he took; each moment that passed, he was immersed in a darker and darker environment.
Sakura had been captured by the nohrian army. Hinoka had been deployed to defend the gates of Shirasagi.
And Takumi… he had fallen from the Great Wall, his body nowhere to be found. Ryoma couldn’t say if that was a blessing or a curse in disguise. Should Hoshido fall, the nohrians would never stop hunting the surviving prince until all of the Dawn Dragon bloodline had been vanquished.
As an older brother, Ryoma wanted his younger sibling to live, of course. He wanted him to be happy, marry a woman he loved and make a wonderful family. In the furthest corner of his heart, Ryoma hoped that Takumi would be alive and away from all that fighting and death.
And yet, as a prince and regent to Hoshido, Ryoma wanted all of his family to take up arms and fight for the sake of their kingdom; for their duty. As a samurai, Ryoma had undying loyalty and unshakable discipline towards his role as a royal. It was shameful, as a brother, to even entertain the thought that he would rather Takumi have died proudly after fulfilling his role than to hope that he was alive and away from the war.
But there were many such thoughts he would never disclose to anyone inside his heart.
A small puff from Kagero’s moist and alluring lips brought Ryoma back from the spiral of negativity being awake had thrown him into. She moved ever so slightly, her warm and soft arm around his thigh as if she was burrowing in his chest.
A smile cracked his hardened face as he tucked a few strands of hair behind her round, perfect ear. The moonlight shining through the sliding paper door made her skin glisten in an ethereal, magical way.
Truly, had it not been for her; had it not been for her suggestion on that dreadful, rainy day, Ryoma’s mind would have collapsed a long time ago.
He would still remain the same outwardly — he would do his duty as a samurai, as a prince, as a man in a war, but he would not see hope, nor beauty.
His prickled heart that had crumbled to dust since his teenage years would not have been able to keep sane had it not been for her.
Slowly, Ryoma slipped out of the futon, double checking to see if Kagero was still asleep before silently moving to the next room. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder if she was truly asleep or if that was another way of her ‘serving’ him, by pretending to be vulnerable so as to make him feel that he had the upper hand in their relationship.
… That made him sick to his stomach, truthfully, but Ryoma could not fathom a world where Kagero was sincere in their interactions. He couldn’t see her being truly just a woman, just his woman, and him being just hers.
She was too perfect in her role; too perfect in her servitude; too perfect in her… everything.
She shone so brightly even in that dimly lit room; her hair was so silky to the touch and her skin was so soft and warm and…
Ryoma sighed, sitting down by a desk as he lit a small candle on the opposite side of the sliding paper door so as not to disturb Kagero’s… sleep.
Unbeknownst to the prince, or rather, as he expected, Kagero wasn’t asleep at that moment and had moved deliberately to shake him out of the spiral of negativity he had thrown himself into, but as neither of them would mention it, it would simply remain as if it had never happened. Much like everything that happened between the two of them since time immemorial.
Ryoma pulled a sheet of paper and a brush to write, stealing glances at the door to the room he had left ajar.
For weeks, for months, for years he had wanted to put his feelings towards Kagero to words, to whisper them on her skin and hear a trembling sigh escape her lips in response.
Each time their lips met; his rough and hers smooth and soft, he wanted to utter the words. Each time he traveled his hands through her body and stole a reaction out of her; each time he moved inside of her and felt her welcome him with ease and delight… Each time she moaned his name in his ear and dug her nails on his scarred back…
Each time he looked at the eyes that felt so deep that they reflected a face Ryoma could only ever see when looking at her… Each time she licked her lips before uttering a word, or each time she took up arms to defend him… Each time, each time, each time…
Each little action of hers warranted such controlled reaction out of him.
He wanted to tell her he loved her, he wanted to tell her he could not think of a world where they weren’t together; he wanted to tell her how deeply, deeply precious she was to him.
Oh, how he wanted to tell her!
But whenever the words got stuck in his throat, whenever he was lost in her heat that the words almost slipped out of his tongue, he remembered.
He remembered how perfect she was. He remembered how perfect she was as she ‘served’ him.
It terrified him to no end to think that she could smile and embrace him while saying ‘I love you too,’ and call him ‘Lord Ryoma’ with the next breath. Even as he lost himself in their lovemaking, he could never truly lose all of the control.
He could never allow the words to escape. Not through his lips.
Ryoma picked up the brush.
But there had to be some kind of outlet for his feelings, as trifling as it might sound.
So he would write. He would write a letter with all of his feelings towards her, but the recipient wouldn’t be Kagero.
No, oh no.
That letter would never see the light of the day. It would remain with him, by his heart, much like his bottled up feelings, and it would die with him and the time came.
The tension eased on Ryoma’s shoulders as he thought about the ultimate outcome of the war. If Corrin was still the person Ryoma thought he was deep down, then… He would have no regrets.
For now, however, Ryoma dipped the brush in the inkpot.
The first time they met, they were children.
She, as one to be trained into a shinobi, was a quiet and disciplined little girl, who never looked him in the eyes nor spoke out of turn whenever they were together.
He, as the heir to the throne, had already been introduced to the other retainer from an even earlier age, so seeing the soft-looking, peach-colored cheeks of the little girl, he felt a strange twinge in his heart.
She looked more like someone who would need his protection instead of the other way around, but Ryoma kept such thoughts to himself.
Thinking about it now, it was amusing to see how she had caught his eyes from such an early age. She looked like just a small little thing, demure and wordless but with the determination to fill in her brother’s shoes.
He did not think about her again after they met for the first time.
The second time they met, they were teenagers.
Kagero had returned to the village to undergo training and came back with a sharper look in her eyes and a softer curve around her body.
Ryoma had avoided looking her in the eyes ever since.
After all, no matter how good a head one had on their shoulders, one could never be 100% always in control. Ryoma strained himself, mind and body, in his succession studies and martial training, even more so after Sumeragi’s demise and Corrin’s abduction.
Kagero’s support through such trying times was both a blessing and a curse. Seeing how good she was at her role, it prickled the prince’s conscience to barely spare her a glance despite her impeccable results.
The slower the years dragged on, the harder it was for Ryoma to look her way, until one night, he saw it fully.
The moonlight glistening on her perfect skin; the hair that cascaded down so beautifully through her shoulders and bosom; the slightly parted lips that caught her breath after training… The softness of the body that had unfortunately been clothed…
The first time they did it, they were seventeen.
A perfect, dreadful night, filled with their mingled breaths and shared warmth.
That night had been the beginning of the end for Ryoma.
Looking back now, Ryoma wrote with a self-deprecating smile, he had been such a terrible master. He had looked down on her, felt attracted to her and then slowly came to love her.
He could hardly remember a time when he didn’t love her. Even now, as he thought back on it, he couldn’t help but think of her small self as precious and cute. He somehow wanted to go into his own memories, pick her up and bite her cheeks.
He wanted to return to the first time they met and take her hand and pull her into a big hug.
He wanted to return to the second time they met and properly look her in the eye; he wanted to take in her youthful beauty and abundant allure and he wanted to claim her as his even as they had just reunited.
Ryoma thought back on each and every one of their interactions.
The times she illuminated the room by simply existing inside of it, or by being so still he couldn’t even hear her breathing while still looking so ethereal and incredibly, incredibly precious.
Even the rare times she looked embarrassed after accidentally showing him her art were enough to take Ryoma’s breath away as he wrote.
Your flushed cheeks, the brush flowed through the pages, were to be kept in the royal vaults of my heart, locked away with my most precious memories.
He had seen all that could be seen from her; all that she had allowed him access to, had been claimed to himself in his memories. He remembered each and every single time they had been together, putting them down on his brush as he described how he had felt then, and how he still felt that way even now.
No, he felt even more strongly now. With each passing second and each soundless breath they took, with each new glance he stole in her direction, his feelings grew.
He wanted to lie down beside her and run his hands through her hair; he wanted to count each strand on top of her head and kiss every single one of them, to mark all of her as his. He wanted to grip on her soft skin and leave his prints on her; he wanted to take away her breath inside his lips and never, never allow those lips to be unkissed again.
He wanted to look into her eyes and not see himself in their reflection, but see the Kagero she truly was behind her servitude. He wanted to talk about her art and wanted to be the safe haven she would return to.
He wanted to be her rock, her basis, her everything. He wanted to be her everything, but her master.
Oh, how he wanted them to have met under different circumstances… How he wanted her to see him as an equal, or at least as a simple man, and give him her heart much unlike how she had stolen his and kept it within her bosom.
Here in this room, he wrote, glancing at her sleeping figure behind the paper door, you are my only comfort as I chase down my demons.
Ryoma had to clutch his chest once he stopped to dip the brush into the ink again. Writing had always been the way he chose to allow his feelings to run free, but even that was proving to be difficult now, as it was regarding Kagero.
He had so much to say. So much to share with her.
He would genuinely write as if he intended on giving her the letter, just so he could give solace to the heart that had given up beating for anyone other than her. He would write, he would confess, he would pour out everything that he had been keeping to everyone but his own thoughts… and then he would bury it with him, as he had done all his life.
Just the thought of having such feelings out of his chest in any way or another already made the burden on his shoulders lighten, even if only slightly.
His throat dry, Ryoma took a short breath before committing to the letter, taking occasional glances to the gap in the door as if he would be able to see the sleeping Kagero behind it.
True to her role, Kagero kept her peaceful sleeping figure as she heard the sound of the brush sliding across the paper and the careful way her master breathed so as not to disturb her sleep.
Her heart shook as she thought herself presumptuous for even thinking that he was doing so out of consideration for her and not just because he was a careful person to begin with.
Regardless, as Ryoma wrote and his heart’s burden lessened, Kagero waited in her ‘sleep’, sometimes moving to seem more natural.
Hours upon hours passed, as dusk slowly turned to dawn, Ryoma wrote and Kagero waited.
Once he finally bound the letter with string and kept it inside his hakama, the first signs of sunlight could be seen in the horizon.
Still, it was too early even for the soldiers to get up, or for a new shift to take place with the guards. It was a time where they were still two people, a man in love and a woman in servitude, to stay under the cover for a few hours more.
Ryoma got up, blew the candle out and moved to the next room with muffled steps, crouching to the futon as if he was a different man.
He looked at the sleeping woman, the one who could bewitch him with a simple flick of her fingers, and placed both hands on either side of her head.
His hair cascaded down between them, tickling Kagero’s forehead and nose. She puckered her eyebrows in response, groggily opening her eyes — it even made Ryoma believe that she had just woken up, making him berate himself for even thinking that she had been faking her sleep the whole night.
Once she focused on him, her lips parted in a smile, but before she could call his name — with the ‘Lord’ attached to it — Ryoma called her first.
“Kagero.” His voice slipped into her ears and reverberated through her whole body, making her hair stand on end. She inadvertently bit her lower lip in response, then smiled as she sluggishly wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Yes,” she replied simply, arching her back so as to pull him down to her, something new she had never done before.
Apart from that dreadful, wonderful night she had asked him to use her, Kagero had never once taken the initiative in their lovemaking. It was always Ryoma who sought her out first; it was always Ryoma who kissed her first; it was always Ryoma who took her hand first and took her to bed, even though she had always been ready for it.
This time, as if still drunk on the feelings he had poured into the ink, Ryoma’s heart fluttered once her lips touched his first. He closed his eyes to enjoy the softness of her tongue exploring his mouth, pulling the covers away from her body so their heat could conjoin.
Kagero did not think of the letter. She figured it was Ryoma working into the night as he had done many, many times in the past, even before she started constantly serving him. So she did not think of the letter, nor did she imagine that it was something for his eyes and her heart only.
She simply kissed him because he looked at her like she was her whole world. In the twilight where she couldn’t see herself reflected in his eyes, she saw him as a man that looked at her so desperately, so longingly, so… adoringly that she couldn’t help herself.
In her mind, she justified it as her doing what he looked like he wanted her to do, but in her heart she knew she was acting on impulse. She knew she was doing it because she wanted to, rather than because he needed her to.
She wanted to be embraced in his strong, tanned arms. She wanted him to kiss her like he was a parched man in a desert and she was his only lifeline. She never wanted to leave these covers… if only their time together could stretch into the beyond.
So, she kissed him. And she held him and called his name, seducing him in the way she had been trained to, but also in the way she knew he would like.
It wasn’t about training or serving anymore, but without either of them knowing as their bodies mingled and their feelings clashed, never able to truly connect, they loved each other without realizing it.
The day the nohrians breached Shirasagi and wandered around its corridors, Ryoma’s heart was frighteningly calm. He sat alone in the throne room’s anteroom, with one hand over his chest — over the letter he never left out of his reach.
That was his last stand. His last stand as a prince, as a regent, as a man, as a samurai. He could still feel the touch of Kagero’s skin on his as a way to placate his once thunderous mind. Raijinto stood silent inside its scabbard, as opposed to how it had been shaking violently as Yato — and Corrin — approached, as if mirroring its master’s mind.
Everything would end today, one way or another. Whether this battle ended in defeat or victory, there would be an end today.
An end to the fighting, hopefully; an ending to the war, preferably. An ending to all conflict, ideally.
An ending to the crumbling of Ryoma’s heart.
It was unlikely, however… However, if Ryoma walked out of this room alive today, he would give Kagero the letter, but he wouldn’t give her the time to read it.
He would tell it all from his own lips. He would tell her, he would revere her and he would kiss her until they were both out of breath. He would embrace her not as a master, but as a man holding his beloved woman; and oh, oh he would never, ever let go of her again.
He would not give her time to speak, nor would he give her time to think. He would seize her and keep her by his side until she shed the skin of the shinobi and allowed the woman underneath to reply. He would love her and, by the gods, he would want nothing more than to be loved in return.
Perhaps that was the reason his mind was so calm.
Resignation and resolve had clashed for so long within his mind and heart that now there was only the calm before the storm.
He could hear the nohrian’s stomps tainting the palace he had protected his whole life, but he simply closed his eyes, clearing his mind of all thoughts.
All but one thought.
He could feel both of his retainers’ gazes from the adjacent rooms, but most of all Kagero’s. He felt her anxiety and her loyalty; he even still felt the grip of her hands on his, as recent as if they had just parted.
As the stomps neared, Ryoma’s stance hardened.
Corrin was the first one to open the door, bringing in the fresh air that made the flames of the candles swirl around Ryoma.
“You have done well, so far,” he got up, unsheathing Raijinto, fueling the flames with its lightning. “No more games! To the death!” He roared.
His resolve unshaken, Ryoma fought with everything he had. Kagero and Saizo protected the contraptions allowing passage to the throne room, so even if he perished there, they were the last line of stand. Thinking that Kagero would still remain even after his demise brought him comfort, somehow.
It was hypocritical of him to think so, especially after thinking that it would have been better if Takumi had died fulfilling his duty, but… He did not want Kagero to die.
No, he did not believe she would die, honestly.
She had always been so perfect it wouldn’t be strange to see her survive this siege and remain in hiding with other ninjas waiting for the best moment to strike again. He knew she was loyal to him to the point of giving her life, but she was also loyal to the crown itself.
She would live.
The weight of the letter increased as the fight progressed; as one contraption — the one Saizo protected — fell and the nohrians entered the room to aid Corrin, the weight increased. As Ryoma’s body was covered in wounds, the weight of the letter made him kneel and hold his heart as his breath shook.
Blood pooled around him, but he used Raijinto as a support to keep himself from falling.
Oh, Kagero, how he wanted to look for her one last time.
He wanted to take a last look at her and call her name.
He wanted to hear his name in her loving lips, without his title attached to it.
Breathing heavily, Ryoma did not dare hope as Corrin preached about ending the war without killing him.
He did not dare hope to deliver this letter.
He did not dare hope to live, especially after King Garon arrived and ordered Corrin’s blade to fall.
No, he would not dare hope.
He had only one wish, and it could never be fulfilled. Instead, he sat back down and pulled Raijinto out for one last swing.
Yet, as the human mind was full of contradictions, he couldn’t help but wish for more.
He couldn’t help but want Kagero to have escaped. He did not want her to witness his end.
For once, he wanted her last memory of him to be the night they shared together, as a simple man and a simple woman finding solace in one another’s embrace. He wanted her to live and stay out of the nohrian’s path, whichever that might be.
He wanted to hold her just one last time… but the only warmth he would feel now would be from Raijinto’s thunder.
It was a pity, really, that the letter would remain undelivered. It would truly die here with him, along with his feelings. Charred, just like his crumbling heart.
Still, Ryoma couldn’t help but still hope.
“I leave everything to you,” he murmured to Corrin before the world turned dark and his body hardened in position.
In his last moments, he felt the weight of the letter to be unbearable, but he had no strength to take it out of his chest. Instead, he simply looked up to his sobbing younger brother, wondering if his words got through.
Could she ever get that letter? Charred, bloodstained as it had been? If only his feelings went through to her, even after death, he would still be content.
To be able to finally be free to tell her he loved her, even if not through his own lips.
His brush would forever tell her, over and over again as she read through the letters, until it finally got through her shinobi mask and into her womanly heart. He would assure her of his feelings and wish they were reborn again, together as equals this time, and ask for her hand as he had never managed to in this life.
He would hold her and laugh with her; he would hear her giggles and brush his hands through her perfect hair… Ah, what a perfect life that would have been.
Ryoma had never thought of himself as a romantic, but a romantic’s heart beat inside of him whenever the wind blew through Kagero’s hair. A romantic’s heart beat inside of him whenever she turned around when he called her name.
It beat inside of him whenever her hands brushed past his in her duty; it beat inside of him whenever their eyes met and his lovesick gaze was reflected in hers.
It beat inside of him even when she wasn’t near, as the memory of her fluttered inside his chest and flared up his body in a way only her ever, ever could.
It beat inside of him for one last time as he closed his eyes, strangely warm in his death, and he remembered the day she had kissed him on her own. She looked up at him like he was her everything; like she had woken up from a nightmare into a dream because he was right there with her. She embraced him like he was her lifeline; like everything he had poured into that letter had gotten through to her and she answered him with her actions and her body.
It beat inside of him one last time as his lips drew her name before his eyes closed forever.
“Kagero,” he murmured, smiling as if seeing her welcoming him in a field of flowers.
His heart that would never beat again weighed heavily on the letter that remained in chest, forever to be unseen by its true recipient.
What’s worse than the Conquest Route?
Writing your own CPU Candidate OC’s and then putting THEM through the Conquest Route!
Hahahahahahawhyamilikethishahahahaha!
11 t Takumi no pairings
And there you go!!! ^^
Sorry for the wait, the correction on this one took longer than expected ^^’’
Also be ready for an intense bucket of angst with this OS. I decide to explore an unseen part of the game and throw some personal headcanons in at the same time. Hope you still like it!
11. Keep going. You’re almost there.
T. Injury
Character: Takumi
Warnings: Minor description of injury but nothing graphic. A shit ton of angst!
Sorry in advance for any depression I may cause ^^’’
(For those interested, here’s the song I listened to during all the writing process. It’s Falling Inside the Black from Skillet. It’s gonna give you a good idea of the general ambiance ^^)
A striking blue skyis all he can see as he slowly opens up his eyes.
It takes a moment foreverything to stabilize while Takumi tries to understand what is going on. Hismemories are fuzzy and his whole body feels sore, with an intense burning atthe back of his head. Reaching up to feel his skull, the archer also takes thetime to raise himself up and check around.
His hand then stopsin midair and his eyes widen, suddenly shocked by the striking vision aroundhim.
With islands floatingin the sky and waterfalls falling from the clouds, Takumi finds himselfadmiring one of the most luscious scenery he has ever seen. It’s all sosurreal, it almost feels like he is dreaming or hallucinating.
He finally reaches totouch the back of his head and recoils a bit seeing the red warm liquid on hisfingers. Blood… Worry creeps in his mind as he realizes the injury isprobably worse than he thought.
There’s another stingof pain while he tries to get up from the ground that makes Takumi grunt in frustration.Searching through his memories, the Hoshidan prince tries to recall whathappened before he lost consciousness.
The first thing he’sable to remember is a definite moment only days ago… When their long-lostsibling chose to abandon them to side with the enemy, the Nohrians she dared tocall family. She welcomed them with open arms, acting like she didn’t even careabout what happened to her own mother a few hours before.
Despite being wary ofCorrin since the moment she arrived, Takumi still can’t believe she truly couldbetray them that way. Now, all he has left is that hurt and anger inside…
But he doesn’t wantto think about it. This is not what matters right now and the archer quicklyshakes his head, trying to evoke what happened last.
He remembers a fight.Yes that’s it. He was fighting some nohrian detachment at the border with some hoshidantroops. But the battle took a turn for the dire and they had to retreat, muchto Takumi’s shame. Last thing he can recall is running near the edge of thebottomless canyon and then, a blow in his back… and then, he fell.
After that, all fadesto black in his memory.
Takumi’s breathhitches from the shock of the obvious realization.
He fell into theBottomless Canyon…
But that’simpossible! How can he be standing there if he dropped into the black void?Nobody ever comes back from the Bottomless Canyon. Whether you’re from Nohr orHoshido you know very well to be wary of the edge of the abyss…unless you longfor a certain death.
And then it hits him.What if he is, indeed, dead?
The thought almostsuffocates him, as he tries to push it aside. But the possibility of thisoutcome keeps staring at him with venom.
The signs are all there.He went down in the dark, only to wake up to an impossible world. Maybe he iscurrently standing in the afterlife…
No! It can’t be how itends! Takumi refuses to believe he could die now, at the hands of sometreacherous Nohrians soldiers. He can’t abandon his family and Hoshido. Heneeds to protect them. He needs to live! He can’t be…
His head is spinningand his vision becomes blurry while he chokes back the tears. Is this reallyhow it all ends?
But then, he unexpectedlyspots something at his feet. Through foggy eyes, he reaches out to grab hisFujin Yumi. As he can feel the stringless strong bow in his hand, hope startsrising up again. If he truly was dead, why would he still possess the legendaryweapon? It’s not like he would need it now, right? It just doesn’t make sense.
Pondering with thesethoughts, he suddenly senses a faint movement on his right that makes him glareup.
There’s a shift inthe air when, all of a sudden, a dagger comes flying at him, hitting himstraight in the stomach. The blow surprises him and he almost falls to hisknees, trying to breathe despite the pain.
Looking up, his eyescan’t seem to see anyone. And yet, Takumi can feel that something is really there,watching him. Taking in all of his surroundings, the archer finally notices aslight unnatural shimmering, not too far away. The form is hard to make out butthere is definitely something, or rather someone, in front of him.
Ignoring the bleedingwound in his abdomen, Takumi tightens his grips on his Fujin Yumi, ready tostrike back.
He feels anothershift in the air but, this time, he is ready. Quickly dodging out of the way,he conjures the string of his bow and unleashes a powerful shot at the blurryshape.
He then hears anunnatural yelp of pain before the form dissipates in a watery mist.
In the silence thatfollows, Takumi let himself smirk at that victory. He might be hurt, but itwill take more than that to make him fall.
Suddenly, theatmosphere grows even heavier than before and his grin rapidly disappears whennot one, but many more shimmering forms start approaching him. Even though hecan’t determine a definite number, Takumi still knows he is about to besurrounded. There is no way he can fight all these enemies by himself,especially in this state.
His fist clenches infrustration around his bow, while he has to accept his only solution.
For the second timein what feels like only a few hours, Takumi turns around and starts to run away.
Rushing ahead, thearcher realizes he has no idea where he is going. He doesn’t even know whatthis place is, even less how to navigate it. What he knows, is that he has to chargeforward, no matter what. The enemies behind him are getting closer and he needsto find a solution before they end up catching up to him.
In the distance, he noticeswhat looks like a large chasm with an endless white sky spreading both up anddown at its edge. A strange feeling of hope and serenity seems to emanate from itand Takumi starts running in its direction.
Although it could bea bad idea, he knows that behind him is certain death so he just has to go on, hopinghis gut feeling is right.
As he’s gettingcloser, a blast of magic loudly echoes in his back, right behind his heels. Thearcher quickly dodges to the side, seeing a spear pass by him and land in hisformer position. Instinctively, Takumi dashes forward, as fast as he can.
He has to keep going.He’s almost there.
The pain in hisstomach is almost blinding him and he tries hard to keep on breathing, hurryingtowards the edge in front of him. But, just when he thinks he’ll be able tomake it, a piercing blow resonates through his leg, making him fall to theground with a cry.
Landing face first inthe grass, he feels dirt gets in his eyes and mouth. He quickly looks at hisleg, to see an arrow lodged all the way through, making it impossible to getup. How ironic for an archer…
The enemy’s shapesare upon him now and he can almost feel their icy touch. In a desperate attempt,he tries to grab onto the soil and crawl the rest on the way but is abruptly stoppedby another excruciating throb in his head.
This is it. This isthe end. He’s going to die here, lying on the ground, ambushed by invisible enemiesas he was running away.
What a disappointingprince he is…
Takumi can feel thebile in his mouth and the tears falling freely on his cheeks, leaving hisclosed eyes burning. He wants to scream, to say something, but the words staystuck in his throat.
He doesn’t want todie.
With fear gripping athis heart and his vision growing blurrier, Takumi finds himself praying forsomething, anything, to happen.
And then, everythingstops. The air goes still and the world falls silent, with even the shimmeringforms looking like they are frozen in time. Blinking through the tears, Takumitries to understand what is happening now.
A voice, deep andcavernous, suddenly echoes in his head.
*Let’s not kill you now… I may have use foryou before…*
A blackened and thickmist starts rising from the ground and, as it slithers towards him, Takumidesperately tries to crawl away. But the sinister fog starts engulfing him whilea guttural chuckle resonates all around.
The archer’s vision instantlyturns to black and everything disappears with an agonizing burst exploding inhis head.
His whole body thenstarts shaking and all Takumi can think about is the pain. When, suddenly, darkand persistent thoughts start coming through to him.
He remembers Corrinand how resentful he had felt of all the attention she had gotten from hissiblings.
He remembers allthose years of feeling inferior to his brother and wishing more than anything forthe recognition of his family.
He remembers the dayin the square, feeling powerless to save and avenge the death of queen Mikoto.
And he remembers whenCorrin abandoned them. How she stabbed them in the back to return to thosefilthy Nohrians. How devastated and heartbroken they all were at her betrayal.
Betrayal…
The word keepsechoing in his mind like a mantra, his heart loudly beating on the same rhythm.
Anger. Vengeance. Betrayal. Anger. Vengeance.BETRAYAL!!!
The chuckle nowmorphed into an outright terrifying and evil laugh, that makes his head hurt moreand more.
*Yes… YES! This is perfect! Oh! Ihave great plans for you, Prince of Hoshido…*
The words are stillrepeating themselves as his heart and mind end up falling into madness. And, withthe pain still tearing his soul apart, a single blooded tear rolls down onTakumi’s cheek.
Unable to take itanymore, he then finally gives up, letting the darkness swallow him whole.
A stormy blackenedsky is all he can see as he slowly opens up his eyes.
It takes a moment foreverything to stabilize while Takumi tries to understand what is going on. Hismemories are fuzzy and his whole body feels sore with an intense burning at theback of his head. Reaching up to rub his temples, the archer also takes thetime to raise himself up and check around.
The rain is pouringdown around him and lighting is frequently striking through the sky. He isstanding at the edge of the bottomless canyon and everything around him isdeserted.
The last thing heremembers, is fighting the Nohrian forces before having to retreat. How he endedup laying on the ground in a deserted field is really a mystery. But, when a throbbingpain starts anew in his head, he decides to just leave the matter for later.
He has to go back andrejoin the rest of his troops. The fight at the border was a failure but theycan still travel across the sea to stop the Nohrians from invading by thesouth. Maybe they will even cross path with the traitorous princess.
As he thinks ofCorrin, an intense anger flares up inside him and his heart starts beatingfaster.
Oh…How Takumi hopeshe will see her again. How he longs for the moment he will make her pay for herbetrayal, pierce her heart with an arrow and watch her die in agony. He willmake her suffer…just like she made his family suffer…just like she made himsuffer.
And then, he wouldstand victorious. And then, the pain would finally leave him.
Yes. That’s what hehas to do. It is so obvious, so clear.
He quickly wipes hisface with his sleeve, not noticing the strike of blood left behind. And Takumi startswalking forward, a single fixated thought on his mind.
Now that he’s almostthere, he just needs to keep going.
and with this, Soleil has become my favorite Nohrian child unit.
