Waiting

*/Perhaps these are Zieg’s thoughts during the final battle, as he lay on the ground watching the Dragoons fight Melbu Frahma.*/



Memories are a painful thing.

It hurts lying on my back. Coldness seeps through me. I suppose I am getting old. I can feel wrinkles in my skin and I know my hair is the color of pearls.

"Demon’s Dance!"

Rose, is that you? It must be. But your voice sounds so cold and alone. What happened to the warm sweet Rose that shared the fire within me? What changed you into this dark mysterious woman that wields the heavy Dragon Buster?

Did my death do this to you?

The visions still float through my mind. My body blasting you when you tried to kill the Moon Child. My body manipulating Last Krakken and Nomos to turn against you and your friends. My body, my reflection, my self, but not me. I wouldn’t do that to you, Rose, please trust me.

I shut my eyes, but it still hurts. I can still see the insane bloodlust in my body’s yes. I could see and feel everything when it happened but I was powerless to stop it. Useless!

And that young man fighting beside you…is that really my son Dart? He has my eyes and my hair and his lithe body fights like mine, but he has grown from the five-year-old child eighteen years ago. …He has his mother’s nose and healthy skin.

His mother. Claire.

Claire had been very pretty, and kind, and a fighter. But she reminded me of you. Same soft raven hair, same pale skin. Same protective loving attitude. Both of you were warriors. I think that maybe sometimes I thought she was you.

You can’t believe how I felt when I first awakened from the ten-thousand-year spell. I thought you were dead. The last time I saw you, you had pain in your eyes as you tried to save me. Your tortured face was the last thing I ever saw. Your anguished voice screaming was the last thing I ever heard. I didn’t think you would make it out of the Dragon Campaign.

Maybe that was why I chose Claire. Because I missed you.

And when I met you again, I was your enemy, possessed by an insane demon thousands of years old. I miss the old days, when I had been a hero and the path was so clear.

A spark from the Rouge martial artist’s magic spell lands on the ground next to my head. I am too tired to flinch and too guilty to care.

I lie here like a fallen angel or a slain demon, just watching, unable to help.

Melbu Frahma, you will fall.

Rose, you hold the Dragon Buster. Will you help me, my love?

Melbu Frahma has a weakness. I know. This is my chance for redemption. My chance to try to make up for what I did.

I’m sorry, Rose, Dart, for what I have to do.



Author’s Note: I wrote that in math class. I just had another brilliant flash and I had to write it down while mastering algebra. But the flash of inspiration flickered out and I didn’t know how to finish it, so I just winged it. Sorry. I know the ending was crappy. I like writing these short stories about characters that other people overlook. And yeah, I wrote it from a male’s point of view even though I’m a girl. So what?