Social B4C14

"M-My Queen…" Tyrian whimpered.

He was still alive!?

I struggled to move, and Pyrrha hurried for her own sword, but it was obvious that Tyrian wouldn't last much longer and we both paused. He paid no attention to us at all, his eyes focused on the woman sat cross-legged on the altar. Tears poured down his cheeks.

"My… My Goddess…" He reached out one hand and pulled himself towards Salem. Another hand slapped down before another and he dragged himself across the flagstones, leaving a crimson streak of blood in his wake. Pyrrha took a step forward to finish him off, but stopped when Qrow shook his head.

Salem remained on her altar, having cast Crocea Mors aside long ago. She watched her apostle's approach with a frustrated expression. It still felt like that was more at my despair being unpalatable than anything else. I wouldn't regret it though, even if I died here. To save the people I loved would be a good death.

"M-My Goddess…" Tyrian rasped.

"Tyrian," she returned, as if she weren't concerned with his impending demise in the slightest. "This is quite disappointing. I have to say…"

"I… No… I…" His face was pale and stained with tears. "I tried my hardest, my Goddess. I tried my hardest. P-Please don't forsake me. Not again. Please. I… I just wanted to be trusted. I tried so hard to save her… to save you…" He sobbed brokenly. "Please don't forsake me."

"I did not forsake you, Tyrian. Nor will I." Salem said. "Sadly, it was you who did that to me."

He gasped. "No. I'd never!"

The dying man sounded so afraid, so utterly broken. The emotion in his voice caused it to crack and I couldn't help but stare at him. It was obvious that when he looked at Salem he didn't see a Grimm monster. In fact, I wasn't even sure if he saw her at all. Perhaps he saw his old Queen, the one he'd tried so hard to save and failed. The one whose death had resulted in his exile and insanity.

I felt pity for him, but it was brutally apparent Salem did not feel the same. She swept one leg clear and stood, a hand coming before her lips as she hid a vicious smile, looking down on her beloved Hero.

"Oh, but you have, Tyrian. Your Queen forsook you when she failed to trust you to protect her, and she died as a result. You wanted her to stay and believe in you, to be safe in the knowledge you would protect her until the end of your days. You would have protected her, Tyrian. You would have done everything in your power. Isn't that right?"

Tyrian nodded through his tears, and even injured as I was I felt my heart constrict. He'd loved the Queen that much? He'd been that loyal a Hero?

"I just wanted to do my duty," he sobbed. "Why did she flee…? I would have protected her. I could have… I could have saved them all. No one had to die. No one had to be forsaken!"

"Yes. She fled like a coward, but I did not, Tyrian. I waited for you. I waited for you and you still failed me. I did not forsake you." Her eyes flashed, and she pushed away from the altar, stepping slowly towards him. "You are the one who forsook me."

"N-No…"

"You betrayed me."

"No. No, please I-"

"You failed me."

Tyrian sobbed brokenly. He did not resist as Salem knelt down and cupped his chin with one hand, tilting his face up so that he could look directly into her cruel, mocking, gaze. She tilted her head, let out a quiet breath, and then whispered – audibly – into the silence.

"You, Tyrian Callows, proved yourself to be just as bad as the Queen you so despised."

The proud man snapped. His eyes clenched shut and he sobbed loudly, arms curling around the wound that pierced through his stomach. When Salem let go of him he slid down to the floor and curled into a ball, weeping in a pool of his own blood. He continued to do so until he expired with a tired, agonised, rattle.

His chest did not rise again. His face was frozen in a rictus of horror, pain, and self-hate.

"Despair, regret, broken dreams, garnished with just a touch of irony." Salem chuckled darkly as she stood and appreciated her handiwork. "Truly delightful."