The day is dark and foreboding. Covered in a black cloud that refuses the sun entrance to its people. Few civilians are out because of this and most lay silent, in prayer, hoping for the sun to break through.

But there is one being walking the streets; dressed in flourishing splendor and a whistle at his lips. A bounce in his step as he gazes upon the blackness that surrounds him and wonders how long the glorious night like day will last.

People who see him cower in fear and shake as they pray for his ignorance of their existence. It is believed that if he were to spot them that they would soon leave the earth they lived on without a whisper of a warning.

As the young man strolls down the streets of the city his purple eyes sparkle in excitement. Today was the day he would rescue his dears from the poverty of humanity. He had seen them before, rummaging through the leftovers of others and hiding in the darkness of the forgotten and unloved. They were two beauties, almost of age. Pure only because of their hard exterior and love for one another.

The two looked almost identical, except for their skin. One white as the blinding sun and the other the color of a not yet mature olive. The two both caring heads of unruly hair as black as charcoal with hints of burning embers at the edges and lighting bright rods of gold splaying themselves across it's black canvas. They both also had eyes as red as rubies, fierce as well as wary. He did not know their names for, on paper, they did not exist but he did know that, underneath the bruises of a life of neglect, they were true souls that should be worshiped and gazed upon in wonder.

As he listened to the not so steady heart beats of the living he slowly began to hear two strong, continuous, beats that he knew and loved oh so very dearly.

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