SpadeDecrescent
Member
Some sort of mercy (if you could even call it that) must have befallen him from the Force itself. The waves that were consuming him were reeled back, allowing salty air to again grace his lungs. His entire body was in pain. He could not move. He could barely even accept air. His eyes, now burned beyond function, watched the whiteness that was his permanent view. He could only make out light fragments, and that’s all they would ever seem to receive. Birds and vermin had begun to pick at his exposed wounds. The arrows that had rained down had completely obliterated any control of the joints he had left.
This was it. This was the end. He had fought against the light side his entire time here, but when it had taken him, the dark side retaliated in a deadly way. He didn’t blame it. Nor did he blame his Master... well, former Master now. He didn’t much care for being dragged down the cliff by Metus, but it was deserved. Treason was not something the Empire took lightly. He would’ve chuckled at the circumstances if he had any control left.
The water around him was cold, but the area underneath him was warm. Blood was leaving his body in shiploads. He would be dead in a matter of minutes. He thought back to his time with the Empire, and remembered it to be fairly enjoyable. He had learned more than ever before, and had made some pretty great acquaintances along the way. He would miss the meetings, the missions, the teachings. But most of all, he would miss Lady Traya. She was the one thing that made his decision to try and leave hard. He had hoped to become a Knight before leaving, so that he could still be a mercenary of sorts, and even visit her every so often, but sadly, this was deceit, and it was treated as such.
The sky began to grow dark and he knew it was time. Any fight he had in him was gone, and the cold waves began to rise again, falling over his mouth. His nose took in a few last breaths of tainted air before it was also enveloped in the water. Any control left would’ve made him cough or try to move, but it was no use. He was no longer a living being, just a pile of flesh meant to descend into the dark void of nothingness that was to come. With one last insert of water into his body, Spade Decrescent was gone forever.
This was it. This was the end. He had fought against the light side his entire time here, but when it had taken him, the dark side retaliated in a deadly way. He didn’t blame it. Nor did he blame his Master... well, former Master now. He didn’t much care for being dragged down the cliff by Metus, but it was deserved. Treason was not something the Empire took lightly. He would’ve chuckled at the circumstances if he had any control left.
The water around him was cold, but the area underneath him was warm. Blood was leaving his body in shiploads. He would be dead in a matter of minutes. He thought back to his time with the Empire, and remembered it to be fairly enjoyable. He had learned more than ever before, and had made some pretty great acquaintances along the way. He would miss the meetings, the missions, the teachings. But most of all, he would miss Lady Traya. She was the one thing that made his decision to try and leave hard. He had hoped to become a Knight before leaving, so that he could still be a mercenary of sorts, and even visit her every so often, but sadly, this was deceit, and it was treated as such.
The sky began to grow dark and he knew it was time. Any fight he had in him was gone, and the cold waves began to rise again, falling over his mouth. His nose took in a few last breaths of tainted air before it was also enveloped in the water. Any control left would’ve made him cough or try to move, but it was no use. He was no longer a living being, just a pile of flesh meant to descend into the dark void of nothingness that was to come. With one last insert of water into his body, Spade Decrescent was gone forever.