Let me paint you a picture.
One of a beautiful red-headed girl.
One of a raven-haired criminal mastermind.
Put these two together, now, in your mind's eye.
Imagine...that they are sitting together, on a hill.
The trees , green and blossoming with flowers, are swaying in the soft, summer breeze.
The clouds are tinged with the orange of the setting sun.
They watch the majestic ball of fire set.
And then they kiss.
But now, the sky fades to grey.
The clouds, no longer a cheery orange, are now dark and brooding.
The trees are bare, without leaves.
Snow covers the hill.
Where should have been a soft breeze, was now a cold, harsh winter gust of wind.
Then, the first drops of rain fall down to the earth.
They land on the beautiful red-head.
She is no longer happy, no longer cheerful.
Her face shows evidence of her tears.
Next to her, is the raven-haired boy.
But he is not sitting, he is lying down.
Lying down in a cold, stone coffin.
Lying down in eternal slumber...
His face was void of emotion, stripped of its life.
The girl slumps down onto the ground.
She tries not to cry, but she cannot stop a rebellious tear from rolling down her cheek.
The tear falls...onto his coffin.
But he cannot see it.
He cannot feel it.
He is gone. Lost. Forever.
Artemis Fowl the Second is dead.