'Death doth draw nigh / There is no remedy'

Anne Boleyn

Misty skipped happily across the flat plain of what was once a cheerfully bright meadow now reduced to nothing more than a plot of blackened land. She hummed brightly as the sun shone down, once life giving with its rays of warmth now blood red and bringing nothing but ill-forgiving heat to the earth. She tilted her head back, mouth open laughing and twirled in place, her full skirts spinning around and around her form; the sky continued its dark monarchy, never to be blue again. Well, at least not for another five-thousand years.

She sighed, and fell down lying on her back, soaking up the rays like they were nothing more than the weak light emitted from a light bulb rather than a killer sun. She grinned with pleasure as the heat from the sun scorched and sun blackened earth provided a firm mattress for her impromptu cat nap.

Spring was indeed in the air.

She could almost quite see her brother's face above her, sitting languidly on a cloud above her, looking almost like one of the old Greek angels of lore. He was slightly see-through, and he may have just been in her head, but he was perfect. His dark hair was tightly curled, and his chubby hands held up his head. Oh! He was so beautiful, and he was hers. She let her eyes close, as she knew that he would watch over her, and protect her.

Her mind, free from the mortal restrictions that came from ruling the world, slowed down, and then reversed course. Instead of looking towards the future, it began to look towards the past.

She remembered the final battle, between Dark Singers and Signers. They had put of a good fight; indeed, it came so close that they thought they might actually lose. But, it wasn't to be so. Her body relaxed as a hot wind came up from the south, carrying with it the not so subtle scent of sulfur and the not so subtle trace of human screams.

She chuckled, low in her throat, and she felt it spread throughout her part of the world like an earthquake. She felt the trembling of the last remnants of the human's who remained underground or kept captive in the palace.

And that included Izayoi Aki. Without Fudo Yusei.

Her sobs were getting quite annoying really, and her constant mourning for the man she had lost so early on. Misty sniffed quietly in disgust. It only serves her right. She took away her brother, why did she deserve to have the man she loved? And quite honestly, she should be thankful. Thankful she was still alive, and not lost in the utter darkness that was the demise of the Dark Singers victims. The place where everyone else except her and her love were; the two little twins, the arrogant asshole Jack, and all the others. The Singer twin was defeated, and with her loss, the boy had lost his love of life. Jack had defeated Carly, the weakling who never really wanted revenge, but then had fallen to Kiryu.

She had beaten Aki, beaten her so soundly that she had begged for her life to end. She didn't feel that she deserved the relief that was death, though. She had worked her dark magic and had entrapped her soul in a chain that she wore about her neck. She would never die, for when she turned and finally came into her full powers with Ccarahuya and with the defeat of the Singers, she received her immortality. And Izaoyi, she would never die, for her soul was bound with hers. Izayoi would die when she willed it.

She sat up quickly and alertly staring off into the direction of her palace. With narrowed eyes she called upon the powers of her bound god, who lay dormant underneath the forest surrounding her home. She waited patiently, ignoring her brother who was skipping around above her head, his little wings that supported his weight glimmering black in the blood red light. She felt magic stirring in the air.

Ccarayhua, meanwhile, woke from its slumber at its mistress's command. It didn't move, save for opening its eyes, but instead sent tendrils of its ancient magic up through the cracks of the earth and let them wind their way into the palace that its mistress made her home. Ccarayhua instructed the tendrils to the Throne Room, and there was exactly what its mistress thought would be happening. Izayoi Aki hung from a metal chain that was as thick as any mortal's waist, and she was trapped like a bird in a metal cage.

There were only four bars however, at every 90 degrees, and the metal floor was small bare three feet across leaving the girl child to fumble for a grip every single time that a gusty wind tore through the open windows that just happened to be placed on either side of the cage. It didn't matter, of course, that Ccarayhua's mistress controlled the winds. But that isn't what caught Ccarayhua's attention.

What did was the fact that Aki wasn't alone up there in her high cage.

Through Ccarahuya's link in her mind, Misty saw exactly what it saw. Aki was talking to someone outside of her cage, on the other side of non-glassed window. Misty saw red, knowing without even needing to see who it was. It seemed Kiryu couldn't control his pet. She glowered as she laid back down. She couldn't tell Kiryu though, however, because if she did then she would in turn receive the same warning.

However, when she got back, Aki would be punished. Oh yes, she would be. Misty grinned wickedly, as the sound of screams intensified. There still came the problem of how Fudo Yusei got out.

Her question was answered soon enough. Ccarahuya stayed close to the wall, knowing that it was invisible to all human beings except for those who carried the red mark. Which consisted of only two human beings, who weren't really human anymore. She stood up gracefully, her brother following her at a close distance. Ccarahuya continued to listen.

"There is no hope, Yusei." She saw Aki hug Yusei, a dim overlay of the cracked blacked earth that rested before her feet and highlighted her path. The only colors she saw were Aki's hair and eyes, and then Yusei's eyes. The only spots of color in her throne room. She contemplated dying Aki's hair brown (not black, only she could have black), to get rid of color. Contacts would do for her eyes. She glared at a passing female, brown hair and brown eyes. Only she was allowed to be colorful, to show live. She was the only one living after all. She would wear a bright red tonight, to match Aki's blood as it ran across the floor, she decided.

She spun around a dismembered body, the arms missing and the intestines running upon the ground. When he saw her, he gasped and flinched from her, eyes rolling back into his head. One of her soldiers saluted her and then went back to the task of killing the man. The other two bowed low, and then continued to watch, their fleshless skulls grinning mockingly. They were always grinning, not possessing the lips to frown or to make any other expression. She continued on her way, Yusei's smooth baritone filling her ears.

"As long as we possess this mark," he held up his arm, and she suddenly had an epiphany. The marks. They must have granted them communication magic when they lost. She smirked. An obvious last ditch attempt by her enemy to try to keep themselves alive, which had worked so far. But not for long, because when Misty got through with Aki… oh the hell had just begun for her. And she could only imagine the torture that Kiryu put Yusei through. "We have hope. We are hope, Aki." He spoke so softly, so confidently, to her that Misty almost paused.

"How?" she asked desperately. "Who is there to save us? Jack is dead, Godwin, and Rua and Ruka," she stopped, sobbing. Yusei had tears running down his cheeks as well, and he pulled her to him, not minding the dangerous rocking of the small cage they were in. They both knew that they couldn't die, for they were bound, and the pain of falling a few stories was nothing that they had been submitted to. "They were children, Yusei, children!"

"As long as we live, there is a chance that someone will be born again, that their souls will be born again. We must live, Aki."

Her hand drew up to his cheek, his marked cheek. "I hate this. I hate seeing you hurt, the pain every time you visit."

"I know," he whispered, drawing her to him again, lips pressing against the pulse point of her throat. "I know love, I know."

She was almost there. The gates, wrought iron and black, were closed. She continued up the stone path, ignoring the cliffs on both sides, and the gates swung open before her, like hounds submitting to their master's fury. The path up to her palace was four feet wide, and was gradually reduced from sheer cliffs to rolling plains. Her palace stood high above everything else, a pillar of rock and forest sticking up in the middle of what was once a lush civilization, now desert. The forest was black, the sun blocked by a passing cloud, and the wind began howling harder as she approached.

Her steps rocked the palace floors, and Yusei and Aki drew back startled. "Quick!" Aki hissed, as Misty drew closer, her tunic and jeans morphing into her court attire, gauzy red skirt and black hair billowing in the wind. She was calling her subjects to her, the high nobility of her court. She was going to be providing entertainment tonight, and the entrance was the opening piece. Nothing was more dramatic than throwing open the castle doors, made of oak and weighting two tons, with her hair and dress billowing. "Tomorrow night, midnight. I'll come to you…"

Ccarahuya's magic faded as it once again slipped back into the earth and its slumber.

She entered, just as dramatically as she thought it would be, and row upon row of her subjects kneel in submission. She walked calmly up the aisle presented to her, Aki's cage floating down from her perch in the ceiling and following behind her. She came to her throne, and sat down gently. Aki stumbled out, dirty and torn.

"Aki," Misty purred softly. Aki's eyes didn't show fear. Just determination. It would appear that Yusei's talk had hardened her mental walls. "You know its spring." Confusion shown now and her brother settled himself into her lap. "My first spring, ruling here. My first spring with you. I am a very… jealous keepr." she stated matter of factly, beginning to her brother's soft downy hair. "My brother is one as well." Aki eyed her, pointedly ignoring the fact that Misty's brother was dead, and that she was slightly mad. "I don't like to share."

Aki's breath caught in her throat, and her eyes widened, fear shining quite plainly now. She leaned forward slowly, eyes widened in childlike innocence. She drew a knife from inside the folds of her dress. Aki tensed. "I know you would die for Yusei, but since you cannot die, and I guess that you'll just have to tell me everything you know. Aki, I think it's time for some spring cleaning." She nodded, stepping down and placing her knife at Aki's throat. "Let's start with your past, shall we?"


There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;

And frogs in the pool singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white;

Robins will wear their feathery fire,
Whistling their whims on a low fence wire;

And not one will know of the war, not one,
Will care at last when it is done;

Not one would mind neither bird nor tree,
If mankind perished utterly;

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn
Would scarcely know that we were gone.


Spring Fling challenge fic for the 5D's community over at LJ. It utilizes two different poems, the title being taken from 'O Death, Rock Me Asleep' written by Anne Boleyn while the one at the end is 'There Will Come Soft Rains' by Sara Teasdale. I'm obsessed with both of these poems, and I felt that they fit what I had started, oh, back in March. The theme was 'Spring' which I hope I captured fairly well, or the twisted mutated kind of spring the world would have if the DS won. This is also an entry for Couple Boost, the last day to enter. Glad I finally got it done! Read, review, and pst me if you find anything wrong!

Disclaimer; If I owned 5D's, then I would be able to access the newest episodes. Since I cannot, logically, I don't own 5D's. Yes, you can stop crying. Also, I do not own such a poetic voice that is used in the poems I used for this one-shot. Those belong to Anne Boleyn (RIP) and Sara Teasdale (ditto).