She wasn't sure what was louder: the explosions or the sounds of her own pained breathing. She could no longer tell if she was alive or floating away from her lifeless body. She could no longer discern what it was that Gourry was yelling to her or what it was that he had secured to her belt.
She could at least feel. Nausea. Pain. Faintness. Dying. The feel of blood pouring down her gloved hand. Grabbing, futile. Felt too much like warm water streaming unchecked.
But she could not speak. She could not ask Gourry to repeat himself. She couldn't ask Sylphiel to let go of her. Need to follow Gourry. Where was he going? Why did you look at me like that, Gourry?
Let go of me Sylphiel. Let go. Where are the others? Am I the last? Let go.
Let me die.
"GO!! TAKE HER OUT OF THE CITY!!! GO!!"
Sylphiel hadn't wanted to listen to Gourry. She didn't want to leave him or New Sairaag. She didn't want to run away while the last of the city's warriors mounted what was probably the final stand against the monsters. Most of all, she didn't want to have anything to do with Lina Inverse, much less drag her dying body out of the city.
In the midst of the chaos of the attack, of the black fires consuming entire sections of the city, of the thousands of people fleeing madly, Sylphiel still found time to think about her hatred for the woman clinging limply to her. Lina Inverse had led the army, and she was supposed to have led them to victory. Instead, it had been led into a trap, one Lina should have recognized, and the entire army had been annihilated. All except for Lina. It was only because Gourry had begged of her to take her out of the city and care for her wound that she did not simply leave Lina where she was and let her receive her final retribution.
Too busy thinking, Sylphiel was caught by surprise when a large man, running in terror, inadvertently pushed her to the ground. Lina crumpled helplessly next to her. Sylphiel looked up and was about to get back up when she saw the same man, overridden by blind panic, run straight into an area that was, seconds later, consumed by black fire. She gasped. She could hear the sound of hundreds of people, of women and children, scream in near unison only to die out in unison. She realized that the man had saved her life; had she not been shoved to the ground, she probably would have been caught in the blast.
Picking herself up from the ground, and reluctantly grabbing hold of Lina, she continued on her way out of the city. By now, she had to sidestep rubble, fire, and charred corpses. As she struggled through the carnage and with the weight of a now unconscious Lina, her eyes were streaming with tears. Tears for Gourry, who had sent her away for a reason. Tears for her people, who had only months ago proclaimed her the High Priestess of New Sairaag. Tears for her beloved city, which had been rebuilt and reborn after Copy Rezo destroyed the original Sairaag five years back.
The explosions increased in intensity and in number. She knew by their knell that New Sairaag's final defenses had been shattered, and that what was left of the city and its populace was now being systematically wiped out by the monsters' advance. She quickened her pace as best she could, again and again resisting the temptation to drop Lina and make a run for it. She was no coward, even though the flying rubble and the intensified heat had frayed her nerves beyond their limits. She simply wanted for Lina to die where she deserved to die, in the very city that had been consumed because of her incompetence.
But she loved Gourry. She knew that. Lina knew that. Gourry knew it. That's why he made her promise. And she wouldn't break her promise, not now. Gourry would not have liked it.
She couldn't tell how. Or why. She just knew.
She knew of a silly superstition about how two beings, if properly aligned in spirit, could create a spiritual link through which one would always know the presence of the other. If the link were strong enough, one could recognize the events transpiring in the other's life. One could, if the link were strong enough, know the moment the other fell ill. Or fell in love. Or died.
She had never believed it. Too hokey for a sorceress like her to believe.
Which placed her at a loss now. She heard it. She could have sworn it. She heard other sounds around it, sounds of fire and explosion, of screams and cries, of death and of the dying. But she could discern this one sound past all the others.
The sound of Gourry screaming in pain. Then silence.
She didn't know where she was. All was dark around her. Her body seemed weightless, only she found that she had no body. No face either.
She only knew that she was. And that Gourry was no longer.
Lina Inverse awoke to a reddened sky. Not the red of the predawn landscape, but an unfamiliar red that proclaimed the coming and triumph of those of the monster race. For the longest moment, she lay there, still, unsure as to what to do next. Was she dead? Was this the afterlife? If so, why did she still feel so much pain in her chest? Wasn't pain supposed to have been left behind in the previous world?
Her hands grabbed instinctively, and the feel of moist grass being ground into her gloved hands brought her back to a more tangible level of reality. Her fingers began scratching the grass while her mind began to slowly pull itself together. She closed her eyes; the sight of that ungodly sky had only made her sicker in spirit. She began to count out loud to herself; something other than the grass had to get her senses in order.
Moments later, she opened her eyes again and found herself refocused. Having now realized that she was very much still alive, she now had to figure out exactly what had happened. She slowly lifted herself up, groaning as she did, and looked around her.
She was in a forest, that much she could tell. She had been bleeding, she remembered, probably on the verge of dying, but she was fine now. Someone had cast a powerful healing spell on her. Someone had dragged her out of somewhere.
New Sairaag.
Quickly re-assessing the situation, Lina ran frantically across the forest, past the familiar markers leading up to the great city. The once great city. For when Lina got to a clear where she could get a look at New Sairaag, there was nothing there but an ocean of black and red fire. New Sairaag had fallen.
She felt her chest and wondered how she had survived the monster's spell attack at all. It had gone clean through, as had Copy Rezo's blast years ago. She closed her eyes. She strained to remember what had happened, for everything had gone blank shortly after her injury.
Someone had come to the battlefield and pulled her out. Someone had brought her back to New Sairaag. She opened her eyes. Gourry. He had never been comfortable of the idea of her going into battle without him. No doubt he tagged close behind and saw the destruction of the Dragon Army. No doubt he saw her in trouble and gone to bail her out.
Then what? By then, she had lost all reason. In his arms, she had become an incoherent vegetable muttering god knows what. Her blood had smeared over his arms and his front armor. And then he was gone.
But he had given her something. Given her to someone, the someone else who had dragged her out of the city and, no doubt, cast the healing spell. Sylphiel. Of all people. It was a miracle she was still alive to owe Sylphiel one. But what had Gourry said to her before he left? Where had he gone?
Lina had, to this point, remained oblivious to the added weight hanging on her belt. The remembrance, the blurry images of Gourry securing something to her belt, finally made her notice it. Her hand reached first, her eyes followed shortly. In disbelief, she gasped. It was the Sword of Light. The sword she had so often badgered Gourry for. The sword that had been a part of his family for generations. He had given it to her. Said something to her. And then he was gone.
And it was then that everything became clear to Lina. What Gourry said to her would remain a mystery, but he gave her the sword and told Sylphiel to take her out of the city because he knew he would die no matter what. He had left the two to join the defense, knowing that even a few minutes could mean the difference between life or death for Lina and Sylphiel. He went ahead to join in a futile defense to buy them the time they needed to escape. He died so that they could live.
So that she could live. Lina's eyes misted, her hand clenching the Sword of Light as if it were clenching the neck of an enemy. She fell to her knees and broke down.
Things would be very different, and lonelier, from here on.