Daarc's body flowed with the water.
He wasn't conscious and he didn't suffocate. Neither were true.
The water gently guided him forward- deep within- deep in the darkness.
It wasn't that Daarc wasn't conscious, no- it was more like he couldn't care less. He was just staring at the distant waters, no light in his eyes. And it wasn't that he wasn't suffocating either- he just wasn't breathing.
The sound of the flowing water didn't quite reach his ears and he didn't have any thought whatsoever.
His arm had stopped bleeding. Mostly because he didn't have any blood left. His eyes had a red tint- he wasn't alive.
He just lost everything and living itself, was meaningless. He wanted revenge but he knew that wasn't possible.
He was still holding the broken handle of the mystic blade. He wanted to just throw it in the water- but- he didn't.
Was it hope?
Was it weakness?
Was it pain?
Nothing.
