The Dragon's Lament
She had promised, promised that she'd never forget him. He knew he could never forget her. Those pale orbs of green jade were imprinted forever in his mind's eye. He had willingly let her go.
He was a fool.
He had allowed the one thing, person he cherished, to slip from his grasp without a struggle. He didn't protest, didn't fight for his treasure. He hadn't fought back, struggled, nothing. How could he? He had stood by, peacefully watching his goddess float to the heavens and away from him.
It was tearing him up inside.
Had he done the right thing? Should he have held her tightly to him, never letting her go? He had done the unthinkable, let his one true love go. And now, now he was destined to live his life alone. Solitary and alone.
For a while, he found respite in his dreams, the few times he could actually sleep. In his dreams he had been able to hold his sorrows at bay. He drowned them in a dark, roiling sea of turmoil. The turmoil in his heart. For a time, he found escape. He managed to see her again. She was a lovely vision to behold. Eyes clear and bright, her face framed by strands of golden brown. Her smile would melt away his worries, it's brightness uplifting his heavy soul. But, to soon the dreams faded to nightmares.
His sorrows learned to swim.
They learned to swim, and plagued him relentlessly. They surrounded him, plunging him into a chilling blackness. He could find no escape. In reality, he was pulled down by his heavy heart and faltering soul. In dreams, he was yanked into a sea of sorrow that was bottomless, and that he never resurfaced from. His sorrows he could no longer hold at bay, were drowning him. The roiling ocean he had held them in overflowed. They spilled out, cascading over his bleeding heart.
He had let her go.
His past was filled with regret, and his future a dull bleakness. His friends had tried to comfort him. They attempted to ease his pain. In the end they failed. Only one person could bring him back, and she was gone. His deep, spiraling depression had come when he had lost contact with her.
It had been two years since then.
The young King of Fanalia was a hollow shell of what and who he had once been. His fiery red-brown eyes were now a dull, faded brown. Dark circles caressed the skin beneath his dying orbs. His once vibrant, ebony hair was now limp and lifeless, it's color faded to a mute gray. Once tan skin was sickly pale, pallid and white. All that was let of him was skin and bones. He was a lifeless shell. He was like a baby, no longer able to do anything on his own, to weak to help himself. He laid in bed all day unable to move as he stared blankly at the ceiling, his breath shallow.
He had let her go.
Waves of regret washed over him, as a sob was torn from his throat. Tears no longer offered release for him. He had no more tears to shed. All the killing and death, the horrors of war, had finally caught up with him when he realized she was gone forever. Their weight broke his shoulders and shattered his soul. There was nothing left for him now.
It was all over.
He would find peace only in death. And so, the young king sighed his last words, before going to his eternal peace.
"You... promised you would never forget me..."