Mar. 20th, 2010

13.4

Mar. 20th, 2010 07:34 pm
fairytaleknight: (everything comes to One)
"Princess Tutu," Fakir gasps, with what remains of his breath. "You must see to Mytho's future."

Good. That's the last thing. The Prince's sword is broken; Mytho won't lose his heart, and Tutu will keep him safe. Fakir can fall now.

The lake closes over him.

(Happiness, to those who accept their fates.)

***

It's quiet down here, lit by a strange and peaceful turquoise light. Fakir knows he's wounded in a dozen places, but he doesn't feel pain. Perhaps he's past pain altogether. Fakir doesn't care very much either way, as he drifts slowly downward. The light is getting dimmer, and the water around him becoming a deeper and deeper shade of blue.

...Shouldn't I have drowned by now?

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Fakir

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