send a 💀 for my muse to die in your muse’s arms.
His grasp on the archmage is weak.
Yasuo had long ago lost his sight.
And in a matter of few weeks- he was too weak to even stand up on his own.
The old rag, now was curled up in an old blanket within the archmage’s arms. He was so light weighted- the years pass for everyone else but, not for Ryze.
Yasuo knew too well that his lover had remained the same- throughout all of those years.
‘Take me to this place in Ionia, there is a broken sword that belonged to my deceased brother. That is his grave.’
‘Burry me by my brother’s side and destroy my sword.’
That was Yasuo’s final wish. But he wouldn’t make it there on time- he knew his time has finally come.
“When are we going to have our last drink together Ryze?”
Yasuo mumbles, his voice is so weak- his eyes fluttered shut, never more to open. Ryze knows those were the ronin’s last words- he tries to reply to them with a pun and a joke. Trying to shrug that off.
The ronin was quiet- he didn’t move. He was dead.
Ryze knew that- but he held his tears back. He didn’t want to drop the corpse on the floor- he didn’t want to disrupt the peace that Yasuo was at. He fulfilled Yasuo’s wish- a flask with some drink in it was raised at the brothers’ graves.
At last the ronin found peace.
However, Ryze was still far from finding his own peace.