Because I love to complicate myself, this is what I imagine the excuse for an interaction Isaak/Lilith would be. Novel/drama based; not manga nor anime based.

Dear Isaak,

How can this be, you might ask?

Could your eyes be deceiving you? Could these written words be only a product of an illusion, possibly a dream?

It was time, I felt today, to raise a weight off my conscience. I speak of dreams, so allow me to tell you about my most recent one, which I thank and blame; for it is the reason this letter has been written.

Oh, yes... the dead also dream...


The world stood in flames before my eyes. Proud and stern; like a knight condemned to his honorable death. The rubicund glow of flames replaced the blue of life I remembered the Earth irradiated. I couldn't help but notice, how at a distance, it almost resembled another world, also dear to me. My soul, shattered and powerless, ached at the sight of destruction; at the emptiness of my hands; at the crackling of death under my landing feet. Silently, I stood above the flames on higher ground, closer than before, but still distant, my eyes following tongues of fire dancing madly in between the glow of sibling flames. Strange; something seemed to fuel them, for their dance was furious and at times desperate. Trees, edifications, flowers, even soil burned; although never breaking, faltering nor fading. Only, burning.

Below, a rejoicing figure caught my attention. A shaky inhale brought my body to a shudder... in fear, for I saw white ample wings that reflected crimson light; hair of titian replacing pale golden wild locks. His robes at times, shone pristine white; at others crimson; at others... showing the speckle of old blood that spread upward gradually from the hem of his robes. He danced, I dare say. He looked... so happy. Genuinely happy, for the first time. Never his blue eyes stopped shining or blended with the red around him; such was his joy. I continued to look at how, like a child, he crouched and marveled on newfound beauty on the dead ground; or up his look reached at the morbid shapes the flames acquired. He laughed as they roared, the sound leaving his lips in innocent giggles, but as they echoed farther away, they morphed to chill-inducing cackles.

Suddenly, a ruffle under feet that were not mine, deterred my attention. As I turned to my side... at a moderate distance... there you stood; an impossibly elegant profile, appearance undisturbed by the chaos, long dark hair swaying with nonexistent wind, almost blending with the shadows surrounding us. My eyes filled with angry tears at the sight of you... my brow twitched... my chest heaved, my lips trembled with words unsaid, rage almost possessed me, for I knew, all this was also your doing. But then, on your lips I saw, a gentle half smile which brought your head to a tilt, dark eyes fixed on the jubilant Kresnik below. As another childish laugh reached us, your smile widened. My anger entered a state between feelings, as I tried to understand the look I saw in your lifeless eyes, the way your lips held nothing but genuine bliss. Almost like... a father looking after his own son's happiness.

Could it be... that I failed to understand him, Isaak?

My eyes returned to the still happily roaming figure, my anger rapidly morphing to sadness and then to... confusion. In my thoughts, Isaak, how can someone who clearly loves the song of the wind and ocean and delights himself with the fruits of this earth as you do, possibly smile at its destruction? How can such paradox live in one who smiles so pleasantly? Could it be love? The kind I failed to understand ages ago and, perhaps, the only kind he truly wished for, then? Envy. I envied you, then. Deeply. Guilt crept in me. Or should I say my soul, which is all that remains of my existence, and is the reason why, I believed, you appeared to not feel my presence. Nevertheless, intangible as I believed to be, a tear was freed once my eyelids close. A tear in happiness for understanding finally; a tear in sadness for my enlightenment had come too late.

A dusty breeze fed the flames and carried my single tear away, the thin line of moist on my cheek magnifying its caress. But the breeze had passed, and the touch lingered, making my eyes open in curiosity. A sight of white fingertips which left a silky, wet feeling on my cheek behind them, almost overwhelmed me. And so my eyes followed them. It was you... and the only proof I hold of your touch, is your hand disappearing behind your back promptly, as if your contact had been sacrilege. I ignored this last thought, as a result of the gentleness of your emotionless dark eyes turned in my direction, looking into mine for the first and only time, thin lips in that half-smile I had seen before. My lungs filled slowly with heavy air; my chest tightened with confusion; I not only pondered on what to say, or do, but wondered if your touch had indeed been real. Silence, was my answer. A bow was yours, lingering in your humbling pose for seconds, before coming up to almost tower me. My breaths remained shallow but slow, as my eyes, remained all but forgiving.

Echoes of his young voice calling your name, reached us. Not a word, not one look away, my eyes not softening as yours almost fed from my emotive ones. You whispered, answering him in a foreign tongue, my eyes turning away and resting on the young Kresnik still in lower ground. Maybe... he could see me as well? As I waited for a sign of recognition from him, I felt you walk away behind me, the tingle of fingers sliding in between strands of my hair teasing my mind more than my senses in a ghost of a touch, making me instinctively turn to where you stood moments before. Another shudder... not in fear this time. I braced myself. Another opposite turn; only shadows. And I wondered again, if it was indeed real.

The flames kept burning... but then I realized... they were not angered nor vicious... but scared and frustrated at the unwavering creation they tried, with no avail, to destroy.

And then I woke.

The enlightenment in my dream encases more than one interpretation, this I know. Nevertheless, as of now, I will follow the one that has brought me to correspond with you. I wish to thank you, for accompanying and caring for my dear Cain, and understanding him; from his will to destroy that which I hold so dear, to his tantrums about a perfect serving of fish and chips, or a good enough pillow. My gratitude extends to the concern I have seen, from you towards my dear Abel as well, even after suffering to him various times. With my thanks, I wish to send a kiss, and dare ask you to be my messenger, as to set it on my dear Cain's forehead as he sleeps tonight... with a whisper... reassuring him that in the name of love, in my heart, all faults are forgiven.

Lilith Sahl

Haha, yes... to those not familiar with the novels/drama, Cains love for fish & chips is canon and so is the pillow issue. Thanks for reading!