Inspired by the songs March of Mephisto by and Karma by Kamelot.

Well... I suppose it's not a 'songfic', but it is inspired by two Kamelot songs. When I heard March of Mephisto I just thought 'Beyond Birthday' for some reason... the lyrics just seemed to fit B and L in this archaic way, but I couldn't figure out how to make it work... then I listened to Karma and a light went off... I'll just take 'em and stick 'em in a medival setting! I'm surprised how well it actually did turn out. At first, it was going to be a long oneshot, but I found that reading it was kind of choppy and didn't flow. So it's broken up into smaller parts, but you could consider this a twoshot (since there is two definite parts). I thought it turned out pretty well for such an unusual idea, but I'd like feedback. I had a similar idea to this with Ghost Opera by Kamelot... if you guys like this one, I might try and write that one. Glad you read, hope you enjoy, pray you review.

March of Mephisto

Mêlée of Wills

Love is whatever you can still betray. Betrayal can only happen if you love. ~ John LeCarre

Beyond stood solemnly at the top of the hill, the wind gently caressing his short, black hair, causing it to flow back, save for a few strands which hung defiantly between his deep black eyes. He wasn't adorned in his battle armor quite yet... he enjoyed the freedom of merely being dressed in a lavishly colored tunic and silken breeches. He had left the blood red cape down in the camp, knowing it would merely hinder his solitary climb up the hill, whose base his army occupied. A pink, wet muscle slipped from his mouth and swept across his lips... they were dry, not from any kind of fear, but from the wind which was blowing in his face. He chuckled slightly, a deep, menacing sound. Today is the day of destiny, Father. How you underestimated me... his wiry, pale hands were clasped behind his back, and a smirk graced his pale face. Time is the enemy of fate, fate is the instrument of time, and will is the nemesis of both. Without pondering to consider the exact meaning of what he had just thought, he stepped forward, preparing to descend back down the hill to don his armor.


"Sir, you're worried. Please, calm yourself! This battle is no different from any other!" Watari, the King's dearest advisor and friend, was busily trying to calm him down, offering him different delicacies prepared especially for him, the king. How can you even offer me such things to coat my mouth in the taste of sweetness, when it will all too soon be overpowered by the bitter, wretched taste of blood?

"No, Watari, you are wrong, this battle is different from others... this battle is against my own son. Don't you understand? We've been at war indefinitely, yes, but before, it was more to taunt me than to actually kill me. Once those taunts failed, he decided to attack directly... he means to kill me."

"Like many others who you have defeated, milord."

"Yes, but this is different... I'm not sure if I'll actually be able to kill him, even if it is to save my life..."