Gone. They were all gone.
His long, nervous fingers drummed against his thigh. They froze in the air, and he curled them into a fist, trapping them. A shallow breath rasped though his lungs, and he coughed. When had he taken up smoking? No matter. His other hand plunged into the tattered sack he had tied to his sword-belt, and clutched at the only object inside. It had taken the last of his money to buy the contents of the sack, but he knew it would ease his suffering. A tear ran down his cheek, and for once, he let himself cry, not just for his friends, but for himself.
Amelia. Poor, sweet, misguided Amelia. She'd had so much love and hope, and so many ambitions. She'd loved the wrong man, though. He'd been unwilling, unable, to return her love. Even now, he was unable to fathom why she'd thought he would love her if she proved herself. Maybe... Maybe if things had been different...
He used to wonder if Amelia had really loved him, or if she just felt sorry for him. Back then it didn't matter - love wasn't something he needed or wanted. She'd loved him though. For all the good it had done her. Amelia had been the first of them to leave his life. The Princess of Sailoon died trying to win his cure. Damn her for leaving him.
They'd moved on after a time, slowly at first. He'd been unable to look them in the eye at first, knowing that she'd still be alive but for him. Strangely... Lina didn't blame him. He'd never encouraged Amelia, never asked her to do what she did. It was her own will, Lina'd said. She made her choice. I suppose she would have wanted to go out trying to help someone else.
Lina... she'd been his best friend... Not that he'd ever told her so. Aside from a little early difficulty, she'd looked past his appearance, and just valued him for a friend. It was the first time he'd encountered that. Eris had taunted him for what his greed had wrought, and Rezo was so loathsome to him... It had been weeks after his transformation before he could even bear to look at the man. But Lina... She was refreshingly honest, open, and forthright. Maybe he loved her a little bit. Maybe. She seemed interested in Gourry, though, and he'd cut himself off from her to dull the pain.
A hero... And surely, if there had ever been a hero, Lina Inverse was one... A hero deserved a good death, right? They were supposed to give themselves for a great cause, or be killed defending something important. They weren't supposed to be killed testing spells. There had been a mile wide blast circle from her accident. It was inconceivable. He'd tried the same spell himself, and gotten only a fizzle of power. Lina was the better magician by far. Why did it backfire on her, but not on him? No good person deserved to die so meaninglessly. Lina was a good person, right?
Yes. She had been. She didn't really understand it herself, hadn't been able to believe that she could have been truly good. She hid her motives behind greed, anger, and self-preservation, but he'd seen her face down evil, just because it felt right. There was no money in that.
How old had he been when he first joined up with Lina? Nineteen? Twenty, perhaps? Hard to say, now... He was forty now, by his own reckoning. He used to peer at himself in mirrors, store window reflections, and pools of water, searching for some sign of aging. None ever appeared. So far as he could tell, Rezo had meant for him to go on forever. Just one more reason to hate the monster.
He'd heard the news that Gourry had died on the front line of a battle just a few miles from the place he rested. The swordsman had never been able to accept or understand Lina's death. Just because there was no body to bury didn't mean Lina still lived. For a while they held out hope - she was Lina Inverse after all. Lina the bandit killer. Lina the invincible. Nothing could take out Lina, right?
But time had marched on, and after a while even he had admitted that there was no way anyone could survive a spell backlash like that. They'd held a service for Lina. Gourry didn't attend. Afterwards, he'd tried to stay with Gourry, but the swordsman's relentless melancholy had eventually driven even him away. He was sure he could see hate in those blue eyes, accusing him of Lina's death. After all, he was the one who gave her the 'useless' spell.
Xellos... Even the trickster priest had come to the service, somberly attired in memory of someone that he suspected the mazoku had become attached to. That was the last time he'd seen Xellos Metallium. With Lina gone, Xellos dropped out sight entirely. Every once in a while he heard about a monumental prank, and wondered... But the name Xellos was never attached. The man was to proud to let his tricks go anonymous.
Who remembered Lina Inverse now? Once, she was the most popular subject of conversation.
Did you hear what Lina Inverse did?
I hear she died a pointless death.
Her death was analyzed and discussed for years, but now she was a curiosity, a page on a history book, and remembered only in stories. He was the only one left who remembered her as a person, with the possible exception of Xellos. Soon, nobody would remember Lina-The-Bandit-Killer, Lina-The-Swordswoman, Lina-The-Frightening, Lina-The-Powerful, Lina-Who-Saved-Us-All.
He'd wandered, doing odd jobs for anyone who would hire him for years, until he'd finally heard of Gourry's death and been drawn here on one final quest.
It had taken a year of visiting every pawn shop, every weapon shop, every two bit peddler's wagon, and every 'dishonorable merchant,' but he'd found it at last. His hand shakily pulled it from the tattered bag, and the polished metal gleamed.
The Sword of Light.
A hero... Wasn't supposed to die testing a spell. A hero wasn't supposed to die for someone who didn't care about them. A hero wasn't supposed to die in a pointless war.
A hero never gave up and ended it all...
He dragged himself to his feet and pressed the empty hilt against his chest. "Light..." His voice snagged. "Light come forth!"
His grip seized, then relaxed as the glowing blade disappeared, it's holder's will no longer keeping it active. He was glad no one was here to see the look of surprise on his face. He hadn't expected it to hurt that much. The hilt shut down once more and tumbled from his fingers onto the soft grass. His knees hit the ground next, and he managed to stay upright for a moment, then his body collapsed to the side, a pool of blood growing steadily underneath the man who had once been Zelgadis Greywers.
He didn't expect anyone to remember him as a hero.