Leo’s eyes followed the gaze of Eirika’s. His eyes landing upon a red haired fellow that seemed keen on chatting it up with the princess’s brother. She’d been staring at the man for five whole minutes. Her facial expression often shifting time and time again - usually into a look that Leo simply couldn’t place.
“Are you frightened by his presence? Is this another Valter situation?”
No, that couldn’t be it. If that were the case, Ephraim wouldn’t have looked so elated to be talking to the other.
His research on Grado’s sacred stone had yielded little of use. In this, Lyon was grateful to have been abruptly whisked away into another world, for it meant the possibilities of what he could glean from the sights were endless. Askr was a place of infinite possibilities. He was certainly honored to be featured as one of its heroes.
How ironic that some of his friends had ended up in this world, as well. Upon meeting with the resident summoner, he was directed to where Eirika was. Currently, she was busy training, and, so, Lyon rushed to meet with her. He hadn’t spared the time to send her a message of his arrival in Askr. Instead, he hoped to surprise her with his presence. When he caught glimpse of her in the training hall, he called out to her.
“Eirika! Oh, Eirika!”
“Yes, yes, over here! This may surprise you -- but, I’m here, as well!”
in the last recesses of Lyon’s mind, he clings to his memories. to watch his first meeting with the twins, or the sweet curve of Eirika’s lips when they had last spoken… anything is better than watching his body move against his will, to watch himself climb the steps that will help him give Fomortiis physical form. they are but ghosts in his mind, just as much as the one reliving them too.
it is here the concentration of power will fill his body and, as he had said previously, give him the ability to shape the future as he desires. for just one, brief moment, Lyon will be allowed to grant his wishes, and then he will be killed to prevent the dawn of an era of darkness across Magvel. it is a more than apt sacrifice for all the pain he’s caused on the long road he walked to arrive here. he isn’t afraid of death, but he is afraid of his death hurting those destined to kill him.
Eirika appears and he loses himself. she is so beautiful, astride a horse so white the moon might grow envious. Eirika’s long outshone the moon. Fomortiis can feel her blade whistle with the hum of ancient, blessed magicks, and for a moment Lyon feels fear; something the Demon King has not felt since they began this campaign of terror more than a year ago. as the times before when Lyon had seen her, a prisoner in his own body, he tries to yell out to her, but his lips don’t open.
they curve in a smile.
❝ t͜her͡e sh̢e̕ is, ̡jus̀t a̛s Lyoǹ sa͜i̢d.̶ ̴❞ the voice speaking is Lyon’s, but the words are not his. when was the last time they had been? ❝ he̢ k̶n͟ew yo̡u ́woul͝d ̴co҉me͏, did ̛yo͘ù kn͠o̡w҉? ͡ ͟h͢e ķn̨e̸w ͘that ̷y͢o̢u͡'d͠ b͏e̸ h̵ere͟ ҉to̶ ki͜ll ͘hi̴m.́ h̵e̕ ͜th͠ìnks ̨tha̸t͢'s̶ ̶go͝i̢n҉g͜ ͞t̡o s͜av҉e ̴h̢i͞m ͞i͏n͞ ̢a way͠.̴ ̨ ̵it is, ͠t̀hen,́ ̸s͢u̡c͜h̨ a ͡sh̵a̸ḿe̡ yo̵u͞'l͠l ̢b͜e̴ ҉s͜av̀i̕n͏g̴ n̷ąu͜gḩt̵ ͟a͏t͢ ͘all. ❞
he chuckles, turning on his heel and stepping towards her. her horse moves, but is suddenly, jarringly still. ❝ an̢d y͘e̷t͘ ̡a̵s y̨o͟u ąr͘e͜ ͏a̛b͞ou̢t̕ to͡ ̴lea̵r͢n,̸ ̴Pr͜incess o͠f Rena͠is, ͘he̢ wa̴s ҉tr̵a̕g҉i̸c͝a̛ll͢y wr҉ong. i̛'m̸ t̡hroug̸h̢ ac͠ti͘ng ̀th͠e̴ p̧art͢ a̛s ͠yoưr pre͡c҉i͞ous̵ ̀f̴ri͡e̢n̛d.͏ ͘ ąnd̢ ̛h͏e͘ŗe҉ – ❞ his arms spread and he tilts his head towards the sky, taking in a deep breath, grinning wide. ❝ her̨e͝ i̸s̕ wh̛e̸r͢e̛ ͘i̸ţ ̛a͘lĺ en͏ds.͏ ͘g͠óo̕db̕ye, Princes̵s Ei̛r̸įka͘.❞
one arm moves, sweeping across from one side to the next, and in the same direction Eirika is flung off her horse. his steps, long, confident strides, take him to where she lands. ❝ i̛ ͘have͝ ̵th͡oug҉ht of̀ ͝t͜h̨i͢s mom̷e͝nt ̶s̴ơ ͢m̛àny̕ ̕times͘, ̧i̧ hav͏e ̀ki͝ll̸ed͢ ̴yóu so̸ ̸many ̧wa͘y̶s̡, ͜i ͜don't͏ ̴kn͞ǫw̢ ̛w̸h҉ic͜h w̨ou҉ld̴ b̧e b̕e̕s̸t̡ f͢or ̢t͏his m̸om͢ent.͝.̕. ❞
he hums and says no more. instead, Lyon’s right arm thrusts towards Eirika, and the sickening crack of bone shattering echoes through the cold air around them. tendrils of dark magic reach out from the cracks in the stone, twisting around the princess’ arms and legs. they crush her, sink into her. dark magic stains everything it touches, and in cruel uses its residue can never be cleansed. here, it’s more noticeable, red, raised wounds where they touch her skin, and the occasional bone splintering, sticking through skin.
she cries out in pain, and Lyon closes his eyes, drinking in the sound. perhaps now he understood something to Orson -- the macabre beauty of pain and decay. but Eirika yet lived. she could not be a corpse bride if she were not yet a corpse...
suddenly, he’s on top of her, his grin close to her face. she pulls away from him, but his magic is holding her down. his fingers tremble, hands shaking as he presses them to her sides, almost delicately. right where her breastplate ends he can feel her ribcage through the fabric, through her skin. he traces where he imagines a rib would be. it’s such a soft gesture, perhaps she can’t even feel it... he taps there, almost playfully, and then sends a small burst of dark forces to press into her bones. one rib snaps with a sickening sound, and Lyon goes momentarily dizzy with nausea. he lurches forward, closer to Eirika, as she gasps. his eyes close, and he continues.
he snaps each rib, one by one, and Eirika chokes. her chest fills with air it can’t expel. she’s suffocating. Lyon listens. something churns deep in his stomach. even when he opens his eyes, he can barely see. he laughs, finally pulling away from the dying princess, and stands over her body. he can barely see her, but he looks over her body. his legs, trembling, allow him to only stumble back to where he originally stood.
halfway there, he throws up. Lyon screams. tears roll down his face, but his feet still carry him to the altar. who could save him now?
Crimson orbs cast their gaze in several directions, scanning the area quickly but not so hastily as to miss any crucial details. A conversation like this required the utmost privacy, or the princess would not have pulled the paladin aside so urgently. Despite the fact that he had yet to ascertain the cause for such a secluded location and hushed tones, he was perceptive enough to know that should anyone else be within hearing range, it was likely to upset or perhaps even mortify Eirika who saw a need to keep this between the two of them solely. That being the situation, Seth did not afford himself a chance to relax until he felt comfortable that no prying ears or eyes were anywhere near a range he might consider threatening to their security.
With that taken care of, the blue-haired royal now had his undivided attention. “My lady? What is it that you wished to speak to me about?”
