Vitani FyreWolf > Slaaneyder Credjue

Slaaneyder Credjue

Once in a while, a bond is formed that cannot be, or refuses to be, broken by any cause. She was not gone. Her life was gone, but she - the spirit, the soul, it could be called by many names, all of them coming close and yet still so far off - could not go.

He did not know that she stood by his side as he confronted the machines. How could he - he was broken, all the life that remained focusing on one goal: to end it, and to be ended himself. He could not know that she was still there.

She watched, keeping her role of guardian even though she could no longer affect any event in that world. She waited, free from the pain and burden that human life brought, for him to finally be returned to her safekeeping. That was one task she could still do. Healer of his soul.

He remained unaware, and though she wished to allow him the comfort of knowing of her presence, she knew it was necessary. Oh, the things she knew now. She was aware of so much, and she wished, same as he had, that he could see the things she did now. But she had to wait. His struggle was not over, and as long as that was true, neither was hers. She was tied to him, and she was glad.

He would probably never know that it was she who helped him to move again, to leave the shell of her existence behind and finish what was needed. He had told her before he couldn't lose her. She had not realized the truth of that until she was indeed lost. Not as lost as he thought, but again, such a thought was needed.

When he began his battle, she still waited, kneeling behind him, arms draped over his shoulders and clasping on his chest, her forehead pressed into the dark hair. She could not feel the machines that held him - she had no bond to them. Everything she felt was because of him. He did not know - he did not feel it. He could not reach her yet. So she waited.

And she saw. She saw through him, saw the bitter struggle, felt his pain and his determination. She wished to take the pain and soothe it, but the pain allowed him to rise again. In him, it must have felt like all emotion had fled. After such overwhelming grief, other feelings must have seemed insignificant. He had no need of them anymore. He wanted to die - but his task was not over. Smith was in his way.

Smith, who taunted him about love, the ultimate human weakness. Smith, who did not know why Neo was not shaken, was not defeated. He did not know that love was the very reason for such things - he could not just die, as he wished, because his love had never been selfish. She believed in him, she knew that letting the world die with him was not an option he would consider. He would die, but he would take none with him. Except, of course, for the one who was waiting.

Once again, his actions were guided by her, by the knowledge that unless it was done, than he would be forced to remain in a place where he was forever robbed of her presence. That was how he felt, that was how he needed to feel. She could not heal him, not yet. It was his pain that would allow him to achieve what the world wanted of him - and what he wanted himself.

Iridescent blue eyes, now felt more than seen, still watched over her beloved. She was in him, he in her, and where her wish had been granted, she would not leave until his was as well.

Then it happened. Spirit-hands cushioned the fall, hearing the final cry as his life was torn from him. Her wait was over.

He felt his wish had finally been allowed him. It was cold, he was cold, his blood had felt like ice since he saw her warmth leave him. All was black, no longer would he need to endure a world where she was not. He would not need to, as when his flesh hit the floor, he was pulled up into warm, strong arms that reached around his shoulders and pressed his face into the crook of a soft neck, cradling him in the way that she had been so fond of.

And he was warm. He wished to cry, but tears would not come. They did not need to, for in the embrace, he was healed. None could see them, but themselves. It was for no one else.

"Trinity?" He had tried to speak, but instead of a sound, it was a feeling, going straight from his soul into hers.

"I'm here." Came the reply, a warm, new pulse of light, in complete contrast to when those words had last been said.

"This time, can I go with you?" Him, a plea, he still did not know.

"Yes." One word, but that was all that was needed. The tone was solemn, but he felt the rapture, the utter freedom that they had been allowed.

They left, left the perception of humans and machines. They were still there, always together, but free. Finally free.

The day would dawn again.

End of Transmission

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