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Things weren’t supposed to go this way. This wasn’t supposed to happen. His home is spilled with blood of his family and neighbors, and the burning of homes and livelihoods still chokes him even further as they encroach deeper into the forest, searching for survivors.
He hopes Issachar is okay. He hasn’t seen him since meeting for breakfast at Lake Mikado. He didn’t know what to think, being chosen as a samurai hadn’t felt real without his best friend. Flynn thought this surely was a dream, if not a nightmare when the gauntlet had not chosen him, that was their shared dream together and for it to play out so cruelly. Flynn had hoped he’d be woken up by Lake Mikado and Issachar talking to him excitedly about the rite and what they’d do as samurai together...
Flynn saved as many people as he could, fighting off the hordes that lurk about behind the twisted trees. Flynn usually found comfort and beauty in nature but the white fog and red-stained forest floors mak this sanctuary a desolate grave that sets a hopeless dread in the pit of his stomach.
He can’t think about that right now, focus.
Between the fights with demons and directing the survivors to the forest entrance, Flynn could feel the stares of concern and pity at his back as he continued to ignore what he was feeling and push forward into the forest.
They were approaching the hideout which he and Issachar shared many summer days training to become samurai together. The nostalgia of the familiar well-worn path made his chest clench in pain but resolved to see it through. He wanted to set things right with his best friend, being chosen left a bitter taste of regret in his mouth and the helplessness of being unable to comfort the pain and betrayal that must be raging in Issachar’s heart when he was part of it.
When the samurai reached the end of the path stood Issachar waiting for them, lax about all the tragedy that festered throughout the now red-stained forest.
“Flynn...you’re here” he looked surprised to see him.
Jonathan and Walter upon recognizing Issachar from the morning before and attempted to console and direct him out of the forest but Issachar acted as if he didn’t hear them and stared directly at Flynn’s eyebrows pinched together like he was trying to figure him out.
“So...you rushed to save your hometown in crisis. You’ve certainly risen to greatness, haven’t you?
You, who couldn’t even bait a fishhook.” Issachar's expression turned sorrowful.
“I, on the contrary, will forever be a Casualry in a remote village.”
Flynn met his gaze with concern. He didn’t know what to think but felt his heart weigh heavily against his chest at the contempt in his friend’s eyes...was he the cause for such hatred?
His throat tightened as Issachar continued about the Black samurai opening his mind to knowledge and wisdom and the deception and misery the Casualry suffered through under the reign of the Luxuror class.
Flynn knew all too well what that sentiment meant as it had ostracized his best friend for being different. To ask questions and want to understand the world that goes on around them, only to be met with scorn and called wicked at his ideas. But the ends don’t justify the means when the lives of their neighbors and families painted this once beautiful forest they shared, red. He’ll protect what matters even if he must protect them from hurting themselves and others.
He barely registered Burroughs’ words as she alerted there was a demon extremely close by. Flynn kept his gaze fixed on his friend. Not seeing the look of surprise that flash across Jonathan’s face at the realization and the deep frown that marred Walter’s face or Isabeau’s look of despair and concern at Flynn.
Something is deeply wrong and Flynn wished nothing more than to wake from this nightmare.
Trying to find the words lodged in his throat.
“I must protect Mikado...that includes you too Issachar, even if it’s from yourself”
Drawing his sword despite the sickness it wrought throughout his heart, the battle began.
At his words, Issachar’s demonic expression twisted into surprise only to groan and hunch over in a scream in agony as the demonic transformation took place twisting and breaking of bones can be heard as Issachar clutched his head in anguish casting a shadow over his face causing his demonic red eyes to glow. His friend had become an undead demon.
The best friend he once knew should be gone, maybe he had truly died when he had failed the gauntlet right…? What could he have done, he had never felt so helpless.
“Flynn…” the demon wearing the skin of his friend cried out in a warped version of his best friend’s voice.
“...It was mortifying, the way I was passed over to become a samurai” This was cruel.
How do you comfort someone when you are the source of their jealousy and pain?
What do you do when someone you love is twisted and manipulated to point their anger towards hurting others.
The Issachar he knows wouldn’t have wanted to hurt anyone, he wanted to tell stories and bring cheer to those around him, helping whoever he can.
What had the black samurai told him or was this perhaps this darkness brewing within him all along?
No. It hadn’t.
Not then...
The sun peeked through the bright green leaves casting rays of light on their hideout in the woods. Flynn had just finished his chores and was coming down to meet Issachar at their usual base where they hid strange objects they dug up around the forest. He hadn’t seen Issachar that morning for chores.
As he walked further down the path and came into view of Issachar sitting on a fallen tree, hugging his knees to his chest. When he approached Issachar turned his head to acknowledge him with a greeting and a smile although it didn’t seem quite real.
Flynn sat down on the fallen tree with Issachar.
He wasn’t sure how to comfort him.
Flynn could appreciate the silence and the sounds of nature but even that was eerily quiet. He was used to Issachar talking about whatever came to mind and liked to hear what he had to say, so when Issachar hadn’t said anything yet he couldn’t help but have the worry twist at his stomach.
Trying to find the words to start the conversation...
“Did something happen?”
Issachar seemed to come out of his reverie and looked at Flynn, his upset expression caused his heart to ache.
“I got into an argument with my mother again”
It must have been a worse fight than usual. Issachar’s mother and the other adults in Kiccigiorgi gave Issachar a lot of lectures and scorn for his questions and curiosity. Flynn didn’t understand why they treated him like that when his ideas and questions always seemed perfectly reasonable to Flynn. Always telling them “not to cause strife with such wicked thoughts” and it caused Issachar to be ostracized by other kids who played with them after getting a talking to by other adults.
Flynn didn’t care about that. His father and family always kept to themselves; Flynn liked Issachar’s ideas and thoughts, he always told such great stories and expanded on them and would sometimes add to them too.
They were a great team like that...
“Hey...tomorrow is your day off right?” That got his attention.
“Huh- oh yeah”
“How about we go down to Lake Mikado tomorrow? To take your mind off things” Issachar rubbed his eyes still looking upset but welcoming the distraction.
“Sure, we could go fishing,” he said, perking up at the idea. Some happiness came back into his expression but it didn’t feel like enough.
“I’ve never gone fishing before”
“Don’t worry I’ll show you how” He went on to explain what supplies we’d need for our trip, it was a weak distraction Flynn thought and knew that it would only be a brief interception at whatever was on Issachar’s mind.
He’ll try again tomorrow.
“Flynn. Tell me how you truly feel” Issachar spoke as the battle continued his demons at the ready. He should be focusing on the fight in front of him not getting lost in memories...and yet.
“Now that you’re a samurai, has your soul to become tainted like the Luxurors’? Or do you still consider yourself a Casualry?”
“I am still a Casualry and I won’t forget where I came from but a samurai is someone that exists outside both classes and protects the people of Mikado,” he said. There’s so much more he wanted to say but the threat of his words choking him up burned him.
You’re my best friend and I don’t want to hurt you? Can’t you understand that or are you so blinded by your grief that even this is indistinguishable to you!?
“Did you forget that, Issachar?”
Issachar turned around as Flynn asked about the supplies. Walking along the path towards Mikado Lake.
The sun was not out yet, the sky just barely turning pink as it threatened to seep past the tree line. They had to leave early if they wanted to make it Lake Mikado and back to Kiccigiorgi as it got dark.
He hopes this will make things better.
He had to stall the inevitable. It was cowardly but there was still so much left unsaid between them. What vitriolic words that Issachar had said still burned but the pain and grief of losing everything from his old life hurt even deeper, the wounds flickered across Issachar’s person weren’t healing as an undead demon.
He’d just like one moment of respite between them.
Swapping demons he cast dormina on Issachar’s hunched body and watched him sway at the spell hit him. Trying to fight the drowsiness as his red eyes drooped in tiredness
“Y- You can’t run, don’t you dare run away- from this Flynn…!”
His legs almost tripped over himself as the spell started to take full effect. Flynn knew it was dangerous but he wanted to try before knowing what was to occur should he win this fight.
“Hey-”
“What are you doing you, idiot!”
“Flynn, wait that’s dangerous!”
He ignored their calls and crossed their makeshift battlefield.
Opening his arms to catch Issachar’s form as he fell into his chest, keeping him steady so he wouldn't fall to the ground. Issachar twitches in his sleep only to settle into his weight into his arms, frowning deeply. Flynn kneeled to the dirt ground.
With his eyes closed, he looked like he did when he was human.
It appears that even while asleep, Issachar won’t let him escape and there was no way of him escaping the way he is now, embracing demonic power.
The church would have him executed if he didn’t do it himself. There was no choice
He wishes it didn’t have to be like this. Why had fate pitted them against each other? They were supposed to be best friends, partners…
Something was wrong.
Flynn leaned down and placed his forehead against Issachar. His eyes burned as they threatened to blur his vision with hot tears and his throat constricting.
He couldn’t. Not now. Focus.
The words came out choked and rasped as he whispered to Issachar “I’m sorry I couldn’t be the one to save you from your pain…”
“I wish it wasn’t like this and it was all just a bad dream, waking up beside you near the shore of Lake Mikado right now would make me the happiest”
The waves washed against the shore drawing back the pain he felt leaving behind the rocks, once ragged edges smoothed like a balm to his weary soul. Whispered promises draw him in closer. A nothingness that seems too good to be true. Will he truly be granted this? Free from his thoughts? From the yearning deep inside that will continue to grow like a pit in his existence.
He slowly drags a hand towards the white, he can hear someone calling his name and thinks of an old friend. Smiling, please keep your word on your promise...Flynn.