Am I forcing my hand to write this down?

He thought it might be raining, but it was hard to tell, this far under the canopy of Wajaom. His face was already slick and wet, with tears, with blood, with sweat, with the few cool droplets that made their way through the leaves and splattered on his face and back. His throat burned, and he ached to turn his face upward and catch a few drops on his tongue, but he couldn't stop. Not yet.

The tiny body clasped against his chest in a crushing grip seemed to weigh far more than anything else he'd ever carried. One of Danae's arms hung out from his grasp and swayed limply at his side with each lurching step he took. With each rasping breath, he could feel blood surging from his back, and black specks already swam in his vision. This would have to be far enough, even though he could still dimly hear the sound of the bells on the bastion--

The crowd was roaring. It sounded like the ocean. He was dressed like a Pandion here, like one of his fallen brothers, and he fully expected to join them now. Lillias had stacked the deck, as she always did. She didn't like to lose. He could see in the triumphant gleam of her eyes that she felt she had already won. She underestimated him.

Just because he knew he was going to die didn't mean he planned to be the only one to do so. He would carry her with him into the bowels of Hell.

"Today is the day that Sparhawk, the traitor who sold the Empire's secrets to the Ephramadians, finally is put to death for his crimes against her Majesty!" Lillias screamed to the crowd, glorying in their bloodlust.

"Less talk, Lillias," Sparhawk growled, drawing his black Pandion sword from its scabbard on his back in a single powerful movement. "It's time to finally end this."

Lillias laughed, a deep, rich, sensual sound, and drew her veil across her face. "Yes, it is. Kill him." The Immortals and guards around her rushed at him--

He dropped heavily to his knees and began to paw at the moist loam at the base of a tree. It seemed like such a pathetic place. There wouldn't be sunlight here. Danae loved sunny days. She loved to run outside and spin in circles until she threw herself down on the ground, panting and giggling. Then she would just lie in the sun-warmed grass and stare up at the blue sky until Sparhawk had to admonish her not to look too closely at the sun. His breath was catching and faltering in his throat, and his hands that dig ferociously into the loam were trembling with weakness and grief.

She was gone. She really was dead. His little girl, the only person he had ever truly loved. She laid next to the half-dug grave like a doll tossed carelessly aside, her limbs splayed, her dark hair in her face, her skin chalky-white in death. He sobbed openly now, thick, wrenching sobs that made his wounds throb, and with his blood-slick hands he wrapped her tightly in his cured leather cloak, closing her eyes and lowering her into the shallow grave, and it was so poorly done that there was no way he could keep the carrion-eaters from devouring his little girl, and soon enough he'd die on this spot too, and then who would protect h--

Steel clashed on steel, and suddenly he wasn't alone in the pit anymore; Ikari landed next to him in a crash of heavy adaman armor, tearing her sword from its sheath and flinging divine magic into the face of the nearest Immortal; Seik landed cat-like next to him, fighting her way to his side, and they barely had time to glance into each other's eyes before they had to turn back to fighting, but he saw all of the love in his heart reflected in her eyes; even Kohra, who hated him, had vaulted down into the pit and was lashing out at the guards around them, laughing at their death-agony. Lillias' eyes bulged above her veil at the unexpected turn of events, then threw herself at Sparhawk, cutting down friend and foe alike in her hatred, and he did the same, until their blades met.

"Miss me, dear?" he murmured to her, a grin twisting his mouth, and he was no longer aware of anyone else in the pit other than the woman on the other end of their interlocked swords.

They fought then, as passionately and intensely as they had once made love; Sparhawk had never loved her, but he had cared for her, the woman that he thought could bring him some peace, that had once been pure and kind and loving, now reduced to insanity. Spittle flecked her lips and her eyes were filled with ravening madness as she gibbered at him. Seik joined him in battling her, but Lillias was a woman without conscience and lashed out at all of them indiscriminately. But she couldn't win against him--Sparhawk didn't care if he lived or died, so long as he could finally avenge Danae. They drove her back, and Sparhawk wrenched one of Seik's swords from her hands, and as he bent to her, driving the sword into her body, he said--

"So you'rrrrre just going to give up?"

He'd somehow managed to raise a mound of earth over Danae's grave, and he was almost rigid in death himself, his breath shallow and torpid now. He forced his head up at the voice, and saw a Mithra standing nearby, richly armored in the green jerkin of a Ranger with a strung bow in her hand. Her ear flickered, knocking the cap she wore slightly askew. She pointed the tip of the bow at him. "If you're just going to die therrrre, then I'll let you be. But if you still got some fight left in you, then I'll help you brrrrring the person that did that to justice."

His lips, cracked with dryness, framed the word but could not quite voice it. "Justice...."

And the Mithra grinned. "Justice is the only thing in this world that purges sin."

The others vanished in a flare of light. Reinforcements were rushing the pit, clambering up over the fencing. Sparhawk turned away, satisfied, but it was a grim satisfaction. He felt very cold, inside and out, and noticed the soldiers approaching with detachment. "Sparhawk!" Lillias cried from the ground, scrabbling at it, struggling to rise with the sword pinning her to the earth. "Get.... get back here! This isn't finished! I am your destiny!!"

He turned then, looking at her with pitiless eyes, and his face curved into a sneer. "I am Anakha," he said. "I have no destiny."