The Last

Even as she lay dying, the whispers of the souls around her comforted her slowing breaths. The souls of all things she once drew energy from, would soon regain the energy she had borrowed. If she had any regrets, it would surely be that her brother not be lying here with her in a state of calm acceptance. That even now she could hear his raging screams as he fought through the hoards to reach her. He would soon be the last of their kind, and she regretted leaving him to that fate alone. Their species had already ended, with only two siblings left, but to be the last would hold its own special form of torment. Finally, as she felt her chest still, her soul broke free and soared above the war-beaten lands. Yet instead of finding herself at a door, or some sort of other side, she continued to watch her bloodied brother fight with their friends to reach her, unaware or unwilling to see that her body was too still. Deathly still. What felt like hours later he reached her, slowly crouching beside her and she felt the moment he accepted she was gone. His shoulders, once so proud seemed to collapse inwards even as he slowly removed her hand from the one thing she had willingly given her life for. A scroll now soaked through with her blood and seemingly tying her to this veil of existence.