Promises

(Reposting from SV in the hopes of some feedback.)

"Answer me you son of a bitch!"

Answer her? You can't and isn't that terrifying. Just hours ago you were certain, you were sure. But now? Reasons, delusions, excuses all left bitter in your mouth. Mirroring the city around you. nothing left, save fire and smoke and ash. There's a truth there in recent years. Like that's all you seem to leave in your passing.

There's a roar overhead. Cheering in the streets. Your cruiser Gladius trails debris as it's brought down, you cant see them, but you can hear the guns of skyships in the smoke. Gladius spine is broken and silhouettes the Cathedral at the crest of first-hills in orange.

This city was once your home.

You find yourself laughing, it's not kind, nor sad. It's a broken half mad thing. You can't seem to really stop so you speak of fire and your tongue is ashes.
Ashes made from Reasons, in the name of Excuses, that served delusions. You speak laughingly and brightly and you hate yourself for it. She just, stares at you. Looking like she hasn't in years. You realize she can hear how hollow it all is. You think maybe she knows how broken you are now, behind all the put on madness.

For a moment the world blurs, you feel tears begin to fall. You look, really look for the first time in years. There are tears in her eyes, Furious and sad. You look away, snap back, look away again. You settle on a tear in her sleeve, not much more than a scratch but there is blood. Part of you, a part which has been growing louder and harder to ignore in recent weeks maintains that this was not the course. Maintains that this, all of this, is wrong.

You resisted for her, discarded your pacifism for her. Took the reigns of a doomed crusade and lead it to victory. Only ever for her! Why does she need an answer to a question that should never have needed asking? Why did you betray the cause? Why did you betray her? You stand in the ruins of your home, ashes and embers whirling about you like a shroud and you just, don't know.

You're trembling but for the first time in so long you feel like... you. The first step is more a stumble but you manage to shuffle closer to her. A revolver falls from your hand, your saber from the other. Her name is engraved on the flat. Her eyes follow as it falls. There's a lot of history there for you both. So many promises, most of them broken.

-
"Why name a weapon for me?"
"Inspiration. That there are causes and there are people worth fighting for." She smiles. It's tentative and you're both young. You think you might love her.
-

A clatter on old cobblestones. You inch forward, a breaths distance. Now just a touch from her. Her breath is ragged. You take in everything. Her eyes are red rimmed, her hair is a massive knot. Scratches, and soot mar her. Sweat beads from the heat as well as the exertion of the last several hours. She has never been so beautiful. Finally, finally you settle on her eyes.

She is looking at, no, drinking you in, with the same desperate hunger. Tears continue to fall but you're both ignoring that for the moment.

She's not let go of her blade. You see and you understand. You both know what's to come, what must be done. All that aside however, you find your hand rising almost of its own accord. She takes it, settles it against her cheek, leans into your touch.

Eyes closing, she shudders, almost a sob. You start shaking.

You understand what must come after. But in this one quiet moment? You are just two lovers, too long apart. Her arm glides around your shoulders and neck and her mouth is suddenly on yours. There are still tears, There are still cut and there is still soot. There are still so, so many broken promises. None of that matters. You are here and she is here and that is all -

The blow comes as a surprise. You had hoped for one more moment, one more seconds reprieve. The look on her face says she was begging the same. That moment... Never would have ended. You would both have run. you'd have wound up burning one more beautiful thing. She's always been the stronger.

You cant breath, but that's okay. You're cold, but that's okay. You can barely see, but that's okay too. She's here. She's all you've ever wanted. You smile. She crumples into you, even as she heaves her blade out and throws it far away. gilded crimson, lit in orange it sails into smoke "Last Tyrant's Fall" etched into the flat of the blade. There's an irony there you think.

There are no more tears. Not from you at least. From anyone else this would be base revenge. From her? for your crimes? Your sins? This is simply right. There is pain, and tears. A blurring at the edges, a darkening. Desperate sobs. "I loved you. I loved you! I love you!" and "I'm sorry." All mixed up with regret and joy and sorrow and relief. Your legs give out. She catches you. She always catches you.

You ache. Her fingers brush through your hair. Your vision is swimming but you can still see her clearly. There's no more cursing and no more fury. Just a desperate plea for time.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you." A mumbled broken whisper.

Cheerful shouts at the edge of consciousness. Hollering. It barely registers. She is curled over you. What hair isn't matted, surrounding you. A different kind of shroud. A gentler one.

"No more death," You whisper. "no more pain." She curls tighter over you. Her almost chant of 'I love you' stuttering to a halt. "I love you, will always love you. This, will never change that." The cheering, roaring crowd is nearer now. But this promise is only for her. "So no more pain, or blood. No... hate." It's becoming impossible to speak. your vision is darkening further. "My promise when my time comes again... I'll, only... build.

"I promise I will never be far behind." She whispers in return. Hoarse, worn out. "Our time will come."

__

Silence then. Shadows fall. Stillness, peace and a lingering disquiet. Something is missing. "Someone" is missing. But here is rest and though there is a lingering attachment, however seemingly tenuous, to what came before. You rest and you linger in this place which isn't life, though not quite death. Your time will come. Some one promised you that.

__

You don't know this yet but It is the year 1405 after The Tyrant. Everything you are is blasted from you. Making way for a new life and new memories. Unburdened, for a time at least, from past mistakes.

In the beginning you are alone. Your nightmares are terrible. The scent of gunpowder and molten steel. Screaming, thrashing men and woman. The sound of Artillery high in the clouds. The wail of tumbling Sky-Fleets.

Time passes, as it is wont to and though they never truly stop they do fade. Until one breezy afternoon in your tenth year, you meet Annalise in the schoolyard. Then the nightmares stop.

You grow up the two of you. Never far apart. Few arguments, you both hurt far to much when you're mad at each other. You celebrate birthdays. Spend days at a time together. You realize quite suddenly on the eve of your twelfth birthday that Annalise has never been a new friend so much as the very best kind of old friend reentering your life after a prolonged absence.

Years pass. Your birthday has come again. While the adults and your other friends are out doing whatever it is they might be doing, Annalise turns to you. A look of intense focus in her eyes. Something in you catches. Something hurt and tired and so nearly broken.

"Have you kept your promise?" she asks. For just a moment you can only wonder what she means. You've always kept your word. Especially to her. The thought of lying to her quite literally sickens you. Just as you are about to give voice to your confusion you feel that old hurt again. Twining through regret, old pain, shattered dreams and broken promises. The taste of ashes settles heavy in your mouth. Nearly as sudden You feel a lifting. You see yourself speaking, making gestures at a piece of paper in a classroom, a teacher looking on in amusement and encouragement. Helping Annalise' mother make dinner. Making cards for birthdays.

"Yes." you reply. Somewhere deep inside this feels right. You are unsure why but a sense of accomplishment swells. "Yes!" almost cheering.

Annalise Smiles like the sun.

You think she might be beautiful.

 

... interesting.

Is this a one-shot or a part of a larger whole?

 

I've a thought to use it as the backing for a wider setting.

A while back, I think sometime around 2007 or 08 I had written this little free form poem about the rise and fall of a mad king. Which became this over the last few months. The only other piece that came about was a map I had drawn up of the setting and this vague Idea of a Steam/Magic Punk world to place it in. Hence the Reference to Sky-Ships.