Never Alone Revamped (Chapter I - Sorrow's Path)

[Iesu]

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2630723/2/

Chapter I - Sorrow's Path

The morning sun rested silently against the mountain ranges, a soft haze of golden light with a crimson crest enveloped the snow-covered peaks of the gigantic earth-forms that closed the entire valley from the east. Fluffs of white moved carefree upon the early morning skies, the bare light tracing the boundary of each delicate form upon the skies. The gentle blow of the winds whispered a silent poem upon the scene, a murmur of silence, almost of the velvet voice of a mother subtly stirring a new born child to wake. The silence of the plains since that very morning followed the rhythm of the tender rains, buds of flowers upon trees forming in a mellow manner, leaves filled with the dew only the dawn could bring. The cascade of the sun?s light rushed slowly through the drizzle, a thousand rainbows coming into form, leaving just as quickly as the breath of white upon the cold first-light?s air.

A silent figure stood motionless across the open field, shrouded by the gentle rainfall, his breath creating tendrils of white as it escaped his lips, reaching up to the skies in a mute prayer. The tattered short skirt around his lower body moved with the hum of the winds, lifting slightly then falling too slow only to be followed by another rush of the wind, bobbing slowly upon the half-darkness of early morning. A long sheathed blade wedged on his blade, near to his back, immovable against his form, shifting slightly with his breathing while he moved slowly down a solemn hillside, his steps almost procession of movements following an invisible straight line.

Wet hair fell limp and stringy upon his forehead and face, drips of water covering his almost all of his body, but none more evident than the two streams of moisture that ran in an almost perpendicular manner as the ground. A short cough echoed upon the empty fields, breaking the silence like a clang of a bell after a mid-day siesta, followed snuffled breath and a low grunt that rumbled upon the silent figure?s throat.

The foot of the hill held a grim memory, a reminder of all who passed, even more so to him that now stands upon it; the terraces and mounds of land signaled by the grave stones of different shapes and sizes marked the large field before the silent figure, some holding individual entities side by side, others that formed circles or symbols of families that remained together even upon death, and the sad reminder of those who were unknown that fell, on large monuments of guardians, mass graves of unmarked men and women. The silent figure took in a deep and heavy breath, squaring his shoulders with the rush of an even heavier rain, where once the light had some semblance in this moment of the rooster?s crow, now it was darkness that covered the whole horizon, with only the smallest hint of gold to show of any evidence of new morn. His right arm leaned against the hilt of his long blade, his free arm moving up to relieve the moisture from his eyes, red irises that marked of great depression upon this moment, heavy dark lines from below his eyes of deprivation of sleep. He took in another breath of if nothing else then hope, he moved with the same sullen feeling across the gray hushed graves.

His steps had taken him to the middle of all this grief, where one solitary grave stood as tall as a man, white of marble and recency, with intricate carvings written in the hand of one who had lost everything, who only held on to hope and nothing else. The silent figure stood before this structure, staring at it in a manner that took too long for anyone, but to him it was not even enough. Lightning crashed upon the clouds of black, thunder soon to follow, rocking the silence and shaking the very earth, the light enough to release the grave, if only for a moment, from the shadows. Sitting upon its foot laid three carvings of mice, one each for every moment that the silent figure had visited this past year, still unmoved as he had left it, all of which are evident of a crimson line against its backside.

He held back a heavy sob, gritted teeth hindering anymore sounds, almost in the manner of preventing more tears to flow with the movement of his eyes to a full close, wincing in the pain that rang against his mind, his heart, his soul. He could not move anymore, any closer to that small gravesite; he could not even carry himself as he was forced to lean down to a crouch, the force of his body lying even heavier upon him. His steps were of a haunted man, trudging against the mud, his right arm reaching around for his blade, still held sheathed upon his hand, the long steel covered in leather fell upon the ground to his side as a grunt escaped his gritted teeth followed by a bawl, his tears almost following the fall of the rains now across the open field.

He could not carry himself anymore, his lips quivering with breath of white tendrils that clamored for the skies. Redemption heavyset in his features of great depression, he knew no more than to let the rain hide his tears, but even the crash of thunder could not cover the howls of grunts that rumbled upon his throat. A lump remained heavy against his throat, a heavy cough growled as his form fell upon the muddied grounds, only his arms held him up from a face of dirt, clenching fists against the soft earth, shouting out the single name that ended the engravings of the silent gravestone.

Merle

One final stretch of his soul, one boost of himself, he flung his form against the stone structure, holding onto it almost as of dear life, an embrace of only a wish that he could?ve done the same when she were still upon the existence. But it has been too long, and each day the grief only grew stronger, and now that it marked the year?s passing of such a dreaded incident, it is all that he could bear.

Voices started to whisper against his mind, calming and soothing yet they spoke of the truth that were thrusts of daggers against his heart. The voices moved in unison with the heavy winds and the rhythm of the storm cracked each moment with a beginning of the boom of thunder, where the voices sounded much in the same way as he did.

There is no world that is worth all of this?

His grip around the small monolith tightened all the more, straining his arms while almost knocking off all the air from his lungs. Heavy bellows snarled upon his chest and throat, tears mixed with the cold rain dripping down upon the gravestone, falling in trickles at its side until it reached the floors silently.

This isn?t happening?

He fell even more towards the floor, his grasp around the grave not enough to hold him up from the weight of sorrow. His eyes moved to a full open, brow furrowing and forming a crest of rage upon his forehead, his lips parting almost to mouth out the words in his thoughts.

There is no reason to go on?

His eyes moved full closed as he braced himself, pulling his form to a stand, raising his eyes upon the skies with a push from the monolith, holding himself standing a step across from it as he released a shout to the skies, the thunder booming with his voice as lightning revealed his form, cursing the heavens itself.

?What Am I Fighting For?!?

Last moments of dementia had passed and rushed through his body, his form knelt low upon the mud, fingers trailing the dull design upon the hilt of his blade, tracing the edge of the leather sheathe, his voice whispered in a way that only he can hear.

?Nothing else could be done? It could never have gone any other way??

His hand held the sheathed blade tight with a grip that could choke a behemoth, quivering lips and shaking arms marked his movement as he held himself once again to move up into a stand, wobbling and shaking upon his feet, a manner of nothing else of strength.

?To survive? Where everyone else dies??

His free hand wrapped tightly upon the battered hilt of his blade, his stance formed into a low crouch, carrying his weight upon the kneeled right leg, his eyes gleaming of fury.

?To live? With no one else to live with??

The vision formed upon his mind, almost as clear as if she stood there right in front of him, the girl from the Mystic Moon, her arms held out to hold him, her voice a silent whisper, so gentle only a lover could give to anyone she loved for no reason at all than just for him alone.

Dakishimeru?

?Why??

The question echoed in his mind, confusing and wracking his body with unknown warmth. Where all his life he only suffered, here she was, for no reason at all, to suffer with him, to carry his burden for no price, no reward, only to be with him.

Why?

The question burned in his mind, creating images of her that crashed upon him, his heart beating faster, filled with longing for the stranger, that woman that he only knew for so short a time, and for that short of time he could only deny that anything could ever happen, the very question once again immolating his mind.

Why?!

But he knew of the words of prophecy, that she would return when they needed her the most, but half of him did not want her to return yet the other half wanted to seek the answer from the only person he knew would know with every breath in his being of knowing the great bliss with her return and the multiplier of his sorrow upon her departure. He had sent her off with a smile, the final real smile he could ever grant to anyone in this world or beyond it.

Hitomi?

The prophecy had been true, he had been the witness of it first hand, holding her in his arms in flight, her scent wafting upon him, almost of peach and something he could not quite know, and yet he loved every feeling it gave. But she would return, and he felt it upon his gut, his very motion and the turn of events were evidence of this, he was the lone wolf, who can not fight for anyone but himself. Fear racked against his brain while he tried to push out the very thought of upon her return, were it to be fated or not, were his will even to be followed from the moment he will hold her in his arms once again, he knew that he will not be able to?

Kimi wo? Mamoru?

The words that formed upon his mind pushed too hard, almost of a promise that was meant to be broken, regardless of how much he would want it to be true, yet still he made that promise out of the one thing that held him to live on, the one thing that kept him alive.

Hope

He had no reason to hope, no other explanation why, but as he calmed himself to a stand, long blade resting upon his belt, wedged near his back, he tried not to find any reason. No promises were needed, no promises to be made. He remember her smile as they rested with the sun?s caress upon the mornings, her form upon a blouse long enough to act as a skirt against her body, and that she would be there with nothing else of a reason but only for him.

His eyes moved upon the gravestone for a moment, a breath of the air moving deep into his lungs as the storm winds slowly dissipated, revealing the dawn sun fully rested upon the mountain range, brushing off tears from his eyes.

?She will not suffer? The same fate??

He turned his form, enveloped in the morning?s warm embrace, steam of water making light wisps upon the air around him, his eyes at peace with the fury that they held within, his voice not of uncertainty or of a promise, a fact he stated with all his will.

?Never??






N.B.

Dakishimeru - Hold me/Hug me

Kimi wo mamoru - I will protect you