closed except for @oathboundfire
location: Lake Lacreymose, Narnia
April 11, 702.
They had not wanted him to go. They never wanted him to do anything. Always seeking to protect him, the baby of the family. But he was a part of this family and he wanted to help. So behind Lorr's back, behind Lyssie's, he had begged Mother to let him go. Besides all he was doing was reconnaissance. What could possibly happen?
He felt the blow from the ballista before he ever heard Phaedron scream. A searing pain ripped through his chest, as if it were he who had struck, rather than the dragon. It was all Luceryan could do to hang on, as suddenly, they were no longer flying but falling.
Phaedron turned to look at him once, his eyes filled with confusion and fear, a mirror of Luceryan's own thoughts. Then, the light left his eyes as his soul left his body. Phaedron was dead, and Luceryan would be right behind him.
End over end they careened towards the ground until Luceryan could no longer tell which way was up. Perhaps it was better this way, being unable to watch the ground and his imminent death approach. Luceryan closed his eyes and thought instead of Lorrcan. What was he doing right now? Would he know what was about to-
Luceryan didn't feel himself hit the ground, crushed under Phaedron's weight. Instead, it was like everything had shifted. He opened his eyes and he was home. How was he home? Was it all a dream? Was it-
A soothing hand brushed his hair from his brow, and his immediate thought was Mother. He turned to look and recoiled sharply. The face he saw was not his mother's, but familiar to him all the same. It was a face he had gazed at hundreds of times...in a portrait. For this was the face of his grandmother, who had died before he was born.
His heart sank. It wasn't a dream, was it? "Oh, I'm dead...I'm really dead, aren't I?" He asked her softly.
