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Dead Leaves

Summary:

One last conversation at the end of everything. Why do I do this to myself? Possibly the start of a time travel fix-it-fic. Possibly just a really depressing one shot.

Conversation inspired/connected to the ending of Masked Empire.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Cal shut her eyes and dreamed. 

She still sat in the western approach, tucked away from the wind between the sandbanks and the partially excavated entrance to the deep roads; but everything around her glowed faintly with the aura of the fade, and the deafening sound of the lyrium was silent now, no longer so terribly loud that it etched itself into her bones and drove her mad. The bowl of the glowing blue substance, and the others, were gone too; and she was alone in what had become enemy territory. 

Behind her, dead leaves crackled as something approached.

“There’s still some time,” she said, not turning around. “They haven’t told me the experiment was a complete failure, not yet.”

It was a lie, of sorts. They would have told her, had she not stopped them, had it not been apparent in their eyes. And the shadow behind her heard the lie and knew it as well.

“Yes, I know. But there’s still a chance,” Cal said. “It doesn’t have to be now. We don’t need to-” Her voice broke for the first time, a failure and a victory. Her composure was the last thing she had. Her last weapon. Her last hope.

Behind her, there was only silence. There would be no debate, no logical argument or impassioned plea. Perhaps Cal had known that when she knelt before the lyrium, but still she was unprepared, angry, terrified.

She breathed out, the crackle of foreign magic against her skin. It was a poor case she was making, and thoughts had been getting harder, ever since they had woken to the silence and the smell of burning. Some had not woken at all.

“I’m sorry.” She breathed. “I’m scared.” The words were torn from her, leaving her lips numb. 

Dead leaves crackled again as the figure came closer behind her.

Hope and agony clawed at her throat, stopped her breathing, the static and smoke were stronger here, bitter against her throat. Cal closed her eyes, fighting the instinct to turn around, break the rules. “We’re stronger than you think,” she managed. “They’ve surprised you before. Maybe we can-”

She never heard the blow that killed her.

Her last lingering thought was for an elf, alone against the darkness, searching for his people.

Notes:

If you liked it, want to yell at me, or want it to become something more, let me know x'D.