by Rose Angel
Disclaimer: I do not own LoD. Simple, ain't it?
Author's Notes: I've been writing for a while now, but only recently have begun giving them to sites and having them posted up. Well, I hope you enjoy this; 'tis about one of the very
first Dragoons after death. After-death fics are fuuuuuuuuun.... Anyway, sorry to say this, but this story is actually kind of weird, in my opinion. Remember, that's in MY opinion......
*cough* Rose Angel, out. Have fun.
by: Rose Angel
"You bastards! She's only fifteen!"
"How could you!?"
"Damia, I am sorry..."
Do not leave me, friend. Where are you going? What am I? Dead?
"I could not save you..."
What do you mean? I am right here! I am alive! I CAN HEAR YOU!!
"I am so sorry..."
No... Come back, friend... Do not leave me alone in this place. It's dark and cold. Come back, please! I beg of you! We are friends, are we not!?
Solitude. I am scared.
Was it just yesterday? Yesterday, when my friends left me behind in this horrid place... No, it feels like an eternity, but I can still recall it clearly...
I was in a battle. The rush of adrenaline in my veins had ended as quickly as it had begun. The swing of my hammer was blocked abruptly by another weapon not of my own. Then, came
the searing pain in my abdomen.
It was hot, and it hurt badly. That was the first time I ever experienced true pain, and thank Soa it was my last. Still, I wish it was not my last in this sense.
I did not understand at first, what had happened to me. But, when no one came back, and I could not leave this place, I then comprehended the concept of my death.
It had hurt, but not as greatly as I thought it would. Physically, I mean. Mentally, it pained me more than I ever imagined.
I could never see anyone again. I am terrified at that thought and shout at my void.
"Rose! Shirley! Belzac! Kanzas! Syuviel! Zieg!! ....Rose!? Anybody!? .....I am all alone."
This is not fair. We have to go through such a long journey in life, go through so many difficulties, and we only end up here? With no one to encounter and comfort you? With no one to
let you cry on their shoulder? It is not fair.
It should be. For this is not life.
"Anybody..." my voice chokes.
I do not like this. I am growing use to it, though, which is making me even more scared in an odd way.
No one can hear me. They are gone. All of them, not here. Did they make it? Are they all alive? Or are they all trapped in their own personal hell like I am?
A person deserves to at least know these questions, don't they?
Please, Soa, answer me this: Are they all right? This is all I ask of you!
No reply from our creator. So, even the great Soa cannot reach me? Or does she just not bother?
I, with my crimson eyes and blue hair, begin a search. It is a wandering for a companion. A wandering for the answers, to get away from my solitude.
Mindlessly, I start to walk around in the blackness. Perhaps, it was for the selfish reason of wanting to be not alone. But, nonetheless, I will leave here. I will.
My strolling had not ceased itself yet. The strides of my feet are constant, smooth, and ever-lasting. I am not tired, and I think I will not be tired for the rest of time. When no
longer...alive, you cannot feel pain.
Unless it is emotional pain.
Invisible tears are on my face. I could feel them dripping off of my small chin, but when I reach a hand up to wipe the water away, none were there.
Could I not even cry? Not to shed tears ever again? I cannot show what trouble my mind has gotten itself into? I cannot show my emotions...
I can...smile, can't I? Please, let me be able to smile.
The corner of my pink lips try to tug upwards into a grin. They fail in attempting to do so. Why? Why can't I just smile?
No, I am Damia, the dead girl who never got angry or hardly smiled. Always worrying if her friends would leave her, and sad all the time.
Like a mermaid, always singing her somber tune in a delicate voice, wishing to be with the people in crowd, and not the sea.
That is who I am, and who I will always be, now.
I cannot even show my emotions. If I cannot do that, what will happen to me?
Nothing. Nothing will happen to me after death, for I shall have my friends with me to make me smile and be happy.
The problem is, I do not want them to be dead.
Conclusion: Does not matter; nothing happens in death, anyway.
I proceed to walk.
Time. It does not make a difference to me anymore. Seconds, minutes, hours, and days go by without being noticed, without meaning. Neither a watch nor calendar would be of use. I do
not age. I will be fifteen forever.
I wonder a lot now; always querying myself of the question "What if...?"
What if I would have lived? Who would I had married? What would my children have been like? How old would I grow to be? How would I have improved and change? Would Mother
and Father be proud of me?
These sentences will always be lingering in my head, and they will always remain unanswered.
I sigh deeply, but I soon discover it only came out as a painful moan. Hmm... Seems like I can only show my hurt and nothing else. What a place this is...
Am I close now? Surely my goal has to be near, because I have been walking...for how long? I do not know... Wait, I have been walking? No, I have been running this whole time,
sprinting for a life I could never have, but yearn for so much.
I am even losing conscious of what I am doing.
"This cannot be!" I scream, while pushing my legs faster to no real place.
Is there no escape from this hell? Am I doomed to stay here, until I just completely fade away? Tell me, great Soa, creator of all life, decider of fate. Tell me that, answer me. Will I fade to
nothing, and not be remembered?
Is there a way around that dark destiny? Some way, I will not be alone...?
I hear whispers around me. Oh, it is bliss to actually hear something other than my cries of pain again. Those murmurs, they are answering my prayers.
Thank you. It is decided what I must do.
Soa, I want to be a wandering soul, trapped in the real world. I will wait there, in that ancient city, for my friends to find me. Or rather, for me to find them. Then, I will not be alone
I will have lost this mournful solitude.
Author's Notes: Wrote it and finished it in just a few hours. Three at most. I am extremely proud of it, actually. A little on the weird side, but... Eh, good enough!! Send all feedback to
firstname.lastname@example.org . Flames, I do not like them, don't waste your breath unless you have a good debate with the flame. Ja ne!!