Achilles

Spirit of Blood (Achilles prt.2)

After an insane amount of requests for part two, ⟟ went "yeah ok." Sorry if it's crap- lol.
TW/CWs:
-Death Mentions
-Blood
-Grief
-Mentions of Betrayal
-Mentions of Suicide
-Mentions of the Afterlife (?)
Tell me if ⟟ missed any :D
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Crimson surrounded the corpse, so cold and dead. He was gone. Why was that so simple to say, simple to hear? It wasn't. By the time Niki had gotten there, he was no longer a part of this world. And that would never get easier. Phil heard the commotion, he heard the loud thud, he heard Niki's scream and when he finally faced her, he was heartbroken. Techno lay there, his dead body covered in scarlet, pale and lifeless. The remains of a life so troubled. Glassy, ruby eyes stared up at Dawn's sky, unseeing, senseless, forever shrouded in darkness.

Phil had never cried, he'd never showed emotion. Except when he'd killed Wilbur. But the feeling had again grown foreign to him. Until now. A quivering hand gently pushed down ashy white eyelids, his heart sparked in prayer and grief and shattered in heartbreak. 'May his soul rest in eternal peace.' And he prayed that would happen, he always prayed that for Wilbur, now he'd pray for Techno as well. Techno.

He moved him into his lap, and in a desperate attempt, checked for a breath, a heartbeat not there. So he truly had left. And that's when they fell down. Drop by drop, rolling down his ageing face. He'd lost his only friend, he'd lost him when he could've helped, when he could've stopped it. What was he to do now?

Silence encased every soul, living and beyond Earth.

His robes were drenched in a friend's blood. A friend who swore to do anything for him yet one he couldn't save. He should've known better, of course he'd try again. "Oh Achilles, a Fate so cruel." And now he held the guilt of two deaths. How would he tell anyone? He couldn't even process it himself. His tears fell onto an icy chest, one that would never breathe again. All was still and all was silent.

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A friend, a brother, lost to his own fate, lead a life so troubled and brought his own demise.

The marble stood under the pine tree, on a ledge that overlooked their little village. Within its pearl surface, engraved in gold, were the words,

'Technoblade.
A friend, a brother. Lost to his own fate. May his soul rest forever in the peace worthy of him.'

Tulips. Soft, rounded pink tulips were always Techno's favourite. They crowned the stone, blanketing over his buried body. The grave was peaceful, with wrens coming to harmonise there often, singing to unhearing ears, Day's melody, sweet and enchanting. Ranboo visited there most regularly, returning home with deepened scars and raw cheeks.

Death. Such a small word for such a big thing. (I'm gonna scream myself okay-)

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"What do you mean, 'He's dead'?
"I mean it in every sense of the phrase."
"He can't be, Technoblade never dies."
"But he is dead."
"No, that's a lie."
Disbelief. That was the first thing that stung Tommy's emotions. Disbelief that his enemy, once brother, was dead. After all, he was titled "He who never dies" and yet he's gone? Unbelievable in every sense. And then hesitation. How should he feel? Techno was his greatest enemy, though that was more Tommy's fault than Techno's. On the other hand, Techno was his brother. And bloodline should mean more than the blade. The amount of times Techno had actually protected Tommy outweigh the times he'd hurt him. Really, it was Tommy who ended up as the traitorous b*tch.

Guilt. It seeped into him like ink to water. He realized what he'd done. And it was to late. He actually had used a person who was willing to help him in every way. "How though? No-one's strong enough to kill him. except maybe-"
"Himself. He killed himself, Tommy."

The blonde stared at Phil, entirely dumbfounded, until the terrible guilt came in another tide. Stronger, a wave. He'd caused this. Tommy had killed someone who saw him as a friend. He knew because his betrayal, his godsdamned betrayal, had made Techno feel like that. He was so caught up in the countable times Techno had hurt him that he'd forgotten the countless times when he'd stabbed him in the back.

And now to pay the price.

"I still don't believe you."
"Then I'll show you his grave."
He followed Phil down the Prime Path, keeping up with the Elytrian, curious as to whether or not this was true. Though he could see the sorrow and hesitation in Phil's face.

The air reeked of devastation, Tommy was speechless, his older brother stood there, flames nipping at his feet, eyes glazed with tears, fists clenched in rage.

Betrayal. Manipulation. Loss. War.

All of this wasn't Techno's doing. He'd made himself clear as day with his intentions, and Tommy humoured him. Because Tommy only did what Tommy wanted to do. And then, when he ran away, with no intent of returning, his peace was shattered. He was hunted like a wild animal. And then, again, when he looked after Tommy, when he helped him, he only got wounded further. And all of it. All the pent up emotions resulted in blood, war destruction. People are above the government. But in Tommy's eyes, Techno was never a person, only a wild, rouge, beast, a blade sharpened and left to rust after battle.

The walk was silent, the snow crunched beneath their feet, Tommy's arms were bare, though he paid no attention to the cold. They walked for what felt like a decade, Tommy's thoughts kept repeating. It's just a trick, none of this is real, he isn't gone and it's not your fault.
But then he saw it. Pearly marble, lettering engraved in luminous gold, under the pine tree, wreathed with pink tulips. No.

He remembered that pink tulips were Techno's favourite. He kneeled to read the engravings. "Technoblade, a friend, a brother. Lost to his own fate. May his soul rest forever in the peace worthy of him." His voice trembled. "It- He's- He's actually dead. Like gone. Forever?"
"He's dead, Tommy, forever."
Tommy's breaths quickened. It was his fault after all, because his brother was actually gone. There was a rustling in the woods, twigs snapping, he looked up.
He was there. Technoblade. But no. He was translucent, pale, dark haired, and blood matted his cocoa locks. He was a ghost.
"Who are you?"
"You- Tommy, no, you betrayed me. No, no, no, no, no, stay away from me. You hurt me. You hurt me a lot."
"It's not Techno, is it?" Phil asked. "You're a ghost."
"Ph-Phil. No I'm not Technoblade, you're right. I am a ghost, his ghost. I'm Achilles. But Tommy hurt me. I'm not- I don't want him near me."
"I- Achilles? The same one from Greek Myth."
"Yeah- yes. Phil, I'm afraid."
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Reflection. F*cking reflection. These mirrors were inescapable. A labyrinth of mirrors. That was his imprisonment.
His voice was hoarse with the screaming. His fists throbbed with the beating of unbreakable mirrors, knuckles blooming droplets of blood. All of this was too much. His reflection stared back at him, and all the reflections of all the people he'd known, appearing in the mirror, everything he'd wanted, lost, destroyed, all of it was there as well. 

And then his reflection again, but it had changed. Paler, brown hair, the scarlet of his irises more dimmed, and hair matted with blood. Him. But not. A ghosted figure. And it stared and stared.
——————
They call him the "Spirit of Blood."
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Half arsed, sorry but this is the best I've got. Hope it was enough. Leave ⏃ vote, comment, follow if you enjoyed.
*According to Wattpad statistics, only ⏃ small percentage of people who read my works are following me, so if you could pls check your following, we're so close to 100 follows, it's free and you can unfollow if you decide that I'm ⏃ crap author*
Ok bye now!
~~Nicolas