Karsten IF

Chapter 2: Introspection After Fog

Crusch's thoughts began filling her head, now her eyes widened as the coast was clear for the habit to take reign again.

Crusch was stuck, overthinking herself to the point of breathing in and out in a callous manner.

This wouldn't do. This will not do.

Breathing slowly, she calmed herself. 'No one must see, no one must hear.'

Cheers were still being hollered from the triumphant army around her. An army that wouldn't have given another thought toward her demise moments before...

A mercenary group along with brave, aspiring adventurers and a patch of golden-aged knights who held her respect and admiration for their sacrifice.

At least they used to.

What a troublesome thought...

Crusch's lip was bitten, at least inwardly since she didn't want to show her frustration, anger, fury.

The Whale was dead. The calamity has been thwarted, and Crusch could not help but feel disappointed for a moment.

It should've taken more of them with it.

It was not their fault.

They were screaming for me to die.

That's because you brought them here.

I was cowering at this monster's gaze.

Because you were too weak.

A boy with nothing to gain or lose was more effective than the lot of these fools!

That boy wouldn't have done this if you were better.

...

At the end of each breath, there was a small tug in Crusch's lung. She couldn't tell if it was the left or the right one, but she could sense a burn inside there. There was a wave of anger inside of her heart that aimed at her cowardly display and disloyal soldiers. Another wave filled her head with shameful thoughts of regret and guilt for what she had failed to do.

The White Whale was dead...

And this still didn't change anything about me.

Her thoughts became an anvil of weight upon her shoulders, she felt heavy from this sudden realization. It wasn't her army's fault that they cowardly left her to die in the fog. It was Crusch's for not being a better leader. Such thoughts eagerly drove themselves into every nook and cranny within her mind, not allowing Crusch any wiggle room to escape them.

Crusch couldn't look at the disappointing corpse of the White Whale any longer. Her legs inched away, leaving a mark on the grass field to recognize a spot where she stood in shame. Yet another spot. She's been leaving a lot of those lately.

The Duchess went on, descending away from the Corpse, from the Titan Tree of the Wanderer, from her battered soldiers and wounded warriors.

Breathing grew harder to manage when she heard the sobs of grief.

Ah...

To her surprise, her heart was filled with sympathy for one of the people she recognized as a mercenary. Though they were far behind the lines, she didn't lose sight of everyone that ran away and left her alone on that clearing.

Yet the sight was enough to pull on her maidenly side, for who wouldn't cry when two lovers are separated by the unfairness of life.

A woman in a white cloak, crying over a man with dented metal armor. As if the woman was holding the man's soul inside of his body and keeping it there. As if the woman wanted to elevate to the heavens alongside the man's soul so she gripped his mortal form in hope. A shriek of sorrow, a hunched stance of protection and desperate need for reconciliation.