Fading Paradise
War was not pretty at all. It had no light side. It was just dark.
When it was upon him it caused a horrobile depression, a mixture of anger and hate towards the enemies.
Only the strongest could survive.
To him it seemed like a natural right. Segregation lead to evolution.
And evolution happened all the time - Mathias was awar of that fact.
Because of it he had won.
He was reliefed thanks to this knowledge. It was over.
The Dane was pretty good in forgetting what he had done during the war time.
Did not count the man he had killed.
Did not think about the families he had destroied, not about the places he had burned.
Not about the fields that were soaked with the blood of the dead and dying.
Just his own wished filled his mind since the end of the war - he wanted to go home.
While Mathias still held the bloody ax in his hands, he was on his way. Back to where they lived together - most of all in peace and harmony. He headed, his eyes searching although he knew the way blindly.
His heart longed for the happiness he would find there.
He was clearly in a hurry when he suddenly stopped, his attention caught by a shimmering object on the ground in front of him. For a short moment he was blended by the reflected light of the winter sun.
It looked familiar and the huge man leaned down and grabbed it.
Immediatly his heart was full of fear and worries. A cold, invisible hand grabbed his throat.
It was a silver, cross-formed hairclip.
For a second Mathias just stared at it and the little of dried blood on it. His hands clinched to fists and he stood up, turned around and started running.
"Lukas!", he called out, finally freeing hisself from the grip of shock that had made him speechless.
He scanned the perimeter for the tiny, feminine boy that used to possess not only this brooch but his own heart. For over an hour he searched until he found him.
Before he realized the other nation himself, he saw that the snow underneath his military boots had lost its innocent white - it was lighty red and brown. Blood.
He followed the track, his steps had slowed down and then he finally saw him.
"Lukas.", he cried out and speeded towards him.
The blonde boy leaned against a tree, his head slightly turned to the right side and rested on his chest.
His blue military uniform was stained with blood - not only dried but also fresh in a crimson rest.
It was spilling outside from a wound on his left chest, right under the point where the heart was.
His skin that was normally milky was now more than pale - it was whiter than the snow and his eyes - Mathias remembered that they were huge, deep and had the colour of the sky at dawn - were close.
In shock, despair and horror Mathias managed somehow to take off his cloak - then he broke down onto his knees, wrapped the jacket around the younger one in an instinct to protect him. He looked at him, his bottom lip trembling and caught Lukas in an embrace.
The skin felt cold against his own but it could not be that...he did not dare to even think about it, worrying that it could become true. To Mathias' relief there was a movement of the boys chest.
Lukas was breathing.
Still breathing, he thought and closed his eyes in sight of the nearing defeat. But the fear had already put tears in his eyes. "Don't leave me.", he whispered, his voice was shacking, cracking. "Please."
He opened his eyes again and was surprised as he looked into the amthyst orbs of Lukas' eyes.
This sight finally broke Mathias' wall and the tears flowed freely over his cheeks. He hold on to Lukas' slender shoulders. "Don't die.", he sobbed quietly. "Stay. Stay with me."
Lukas glanced at him, his eyes were as deep as ever but they seemed to become cloudly.
" 'nt...cr..y...", the usually tender voice - it had also been sharp towards him sometimes but Mathias did not remember that - sounded broken. The wounded boy reached out and cupped the cheek of his fried, whipped away his tears softly.
"I'll bring you home, Lukas. I promise. So...Hand on." Mathias looked at the wound and he still could not stop crying. "I'll stopp the blood loss. Don't worry.", he said just to calm himself down.
He laid him back on the ground and froze for a second.
Lukas was smiling at him although he must have been in immense pain.
Mathias had not seen that smile for a long, long time - it was because the Norwegian never smiled during the war. It was beautiful. It should have made him happy like it always did but in contrast to that his eyes and his heart filled with worries and guilt. He did not want to lose that smile. He would not stand it at all to lose him. He would never forgive himself nor the world or that cruel destiny.
The young man ripped a piece of his shirt - not mattering the cold - and used it to bandage the wound.
Lukas winced in pain. "I'm sorry but it has to be.", he said and smiled weakly at him.
For that he gained another, slightly understanding smile from Lukas.
"It's good to see you smiling. It has been a long while.", Mathias said quietly, lifted him up and held him close.
Lukas' head rested against his shoulder and it seemed like he had no strenght anymore.
His purple eyes closed and he was shivering.
Mathias bit his bottom lip. Why could he not have been there earlier?
Why could he not have been there to protect him?
Was that the punishment for all his sins? The murder, the destructions? His selfishness?
But why then Lukas?
Lukas did care about his doings.
Lukas mourned for everyone he lost, for everyone he killed. He counted each men.
He used to fed the orphans in his beloved population and to tell them stories about faries and unicorns.
He rebuild the places he had destroied, he erected monuments on the bloodstained fields.
He was not selfish and it would be not fair to let him die as a fine for Mathias' sins. To bare them.
The Dane regognized that the others chest was rising and falling fast - much too fast. He started running.
To his luck he knew the landscape very well and did not get lost on their way home.
But it was getting worse.
He could feel the hearbeat getting lower and the skind of he face that leaned against his shoulder getting colder.
Faster. Faster. He could see their house now - it was not more than two miles away. Faster.
Lukas was too quiet but he still smiled. That was what made Mathias cry again.
"No, no, no, don't die on me!", he begged and his voice forced Lukas to open his eyes again. "Please."
He could not stop the tears, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard he tried to smile in order to make Lukas feel safe. This lost would kill him too. It would kill his heart and soul.
"Jeg elsker dig.", he whispered.
Before it was too late. He had to say it. No matter if it sounded strange. No matter if it was supposed to be like that or not. No matter if he would ge a rebuke.
He needed him to know.
While he was fully running he heard Lukas voice.
It seemed to be far away and full of pain for it was quiet and broken. It was not easy to understand what he was saying, because the words came slowly and clipped.
"..Je...g....elsker...de...g...", just a whisper in norwegian but their languages had only small differences.
Even so, Mathias knew exactly the meaning of these words also he had not expected to hear them.
Although he had longed for this phrase since he had come to know him.
"Lukas...", he said softly, finally reaching the house. He did not now wheter he should smile or cry.
He could not lose him.
The door crashed open but it was all the same to him whether he destroyed it or not.
He stormed inside and put Lukas carefully down on the couch. "Wait for a second.", he said and went to the kitchen.
When he came back, with the medical supplies and a bottle of beer, Lukas looked up to him. His wound had started bleeding again and he had both of his hands pressed on it. Mathias sat next to him, worries in his blue eyes and gently took the others hands away from wound. "It'll be alright.", he promised and started do clean and bandage it properly. But it did not work like he wanted it. It was like they had hit a main artery. It did not stop bleeding no matter what he tried.
And although Lukas tried to hide it, he was wincing and pressing his teeth together. To see him like that nearly broke Mathias. But he could not give up on him. And Lukas could, after all, also not give up. It seemed clear that he was fighting. He really did. However he did fight alone and because of that Mathias felt more helpless like ever.
"Do you want anything?", he asked him, never turning away his gaze from those feverish shimmering eyes. He only wished he could support him in his struggle. He did not want him to lose this fight.
Mathias, of course, did not have a clue that he was already helping Lukas. He was the last thing the young man held on too. It was their shared memories and the fact that he was by his side.
Lukas' lips turned into a small smile. A request? He felt somehow like this could be his last…
"…Ky…sse…", he managed to say it although his voice was shacking. He had lost far too much energy but that was not the only reason. Love. Sadness. Fear. All of them played their part.
Mathias smiled softly. "Seemed to end like a fairy tale, right?", he chuckled, leaned down to him.
"Jeg elsker dig."
Lukas was surprised how innocent and tender the pressure of Mathias' warm lips felt against his own. He returned it, wondering if Mathias was that warm or if he himself started to get more and colder. Lukas had closed his eyes and so he just felt the touch of Mathias' hand on his cheek. He was so warm that the air around him seemed so much colder in contrast to him. Lukas started to shiver. "It…'s…c-c…old…", he breathed and he could hear that his love was crying again. He forced himself to open his eyes although his eyelids were so, so heavy. It was painful to keep his eyes open.
His gaze met the tear streamed face of Mathias, those heaven blue eyes that shimmered in fear. "Don't go.", he said and pulled him from his place into his arms, cradling him against his chest. "Don't leave." Lukas buried his head in the other ones shoulder. This warmth was so conforming. Calming. "…'nt…cry…Kjær…ligh…et.", his voice was barely audible. "Jeg…elsker…deg, Math…ias…"
One and only.
His one and only.
His smile did not faint.
He was somehow happy.
Lukas closed his eyes.
"Lukas?", Mathias asked, his voice trembling from the emotions. He cupped the fine face with his hands and turned it up to him. Why was he so silent? So pale – so…so cold?! "Lukas!", he repeated, the despair made his voice louder. The tears did not stop. They were constantly streaming.
"No…No!", he cried, shacking him softly. But there was no response. "Don't…don't…please…", his voice was getting lower and lower. He leaned down and brushed the still lightly rosy lips with his own. There was no breath. Mathias shut his eyes, cradled him closer to him.
No heartbeat. He started to sob uncontrollably. "Lukas…"
His heart died with him.
His love.
His paradise disappeared.
His life.
His light left the world.
His smile, his laugh, his everything.
