A/N: I guess I am back for a little bit. School's starting soon, so I'll be on mini hiatuses all the time, which upsets me because I know I've neglected some of my stories. :( That's why I've come back with a short story that holds a special message, if you can figure it out. It takes place maybe a week or two after Mercedes and Aran's awakening, and it's centered around Mercedes's hinted relationship with Freud. The inspiration for this tale came from a combination of music (namely Birdy's "1901" and Miley Cyrus's "Wrecking Ball") and a wave of nostalgia on my part. With that, I hope you enjoy!

Note: depression-like symptoms, angst, self-harm, blood, and kisses

Disclaimer: I don't own Maplestory or the cover picture by forgottenx on DA, but I do own my ideas, love for the characters, and writing.


Sometimes, Mercedes lied to herself.

A reality that happened quite often, to be frank.

Maybe it was an easy way to reassure her mind and body that she could stand tall and royally, a mechanism clambering in her chest that spoke for itself.

She always complained about the jade vines creeping over her polished bedpost, but she actually liked the little white flowers they produced.

She always mumbled about the old hymns the elders played in the village, but she actually enjoyed it when the evening wind carried soft notes into her room.

She always, always believed that it was her fault her friend had died, but of course she was wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

The night was cold, her ceiling a dark, starry tapestry. Mercedes felt the rose petals beneath her bare feet clump up as she paced over to her mahogany drawers. The snowy material of her dress tickled her ankles, pale tendrils desperately trying to meet the floor.

Elluel had never been so quiet before.

When the sun rose, there was laughter, and when the sun fell, there were lullabies drifting out of homes. The silence was a great discomfort to the Elven Queen, who pulled hurriedly at the wooden furniture and scratched at her forearms in annoyance.

There was something she had to do tonight.

From her accessories box, she skillfully picked out a long, golden hairpin, modeled after her Spike Royale maneuver. The amethyst at the top glimmered faintly in the moonlight, slightly chipped from all its years in the brown box. Momentarily, she wondered if her treasure was solid enough to chip away the ice that encased each and every one of her citizens, the spell that sealed the laughter and lullabies.

"I'm sorry."

Clutching the hairpin tightly, the thought strayed away and was replaced by a flash of fire and dry blood.

Sometimes, Mercedes punished herself.

Agile legs brought her back to the confinement of white and pink sheets, red velvet pillows and silver veils. She remembered the town of Leafre, just before the fire. It was a peaceful, nature-loving place inhabited by human and animal alike. Perhaps that is why the screams reverberated within her mind, the angry roars of dragons stampeding through the forests.

"I'm so sorry."

Tears pooled in her weary cerulean eyes as she curled up on her bed, licking her dry lips as she balanced her right arm on her knee. "What ever were we fighting for?" she called, rubbing the spot on her wrist where veins slightly protruded. "What was I trying to do?"

Her porcelain skin felt terribly raw against the point of the hairpin.

"Humans die so easily."

No, that is such a sad thing to say, a familiar voice murmured into her loose hair. Please don't say that.

The first cut's pain was a transient tingle. Her solemn gaze wandered over the accessory's tip, coated in a deep red. The left strap of her dress slid down her arm, revealing her small, quivering shoulder.

"Forgive me. I couldn't save you."

In a trance, Mercedes drew lines across her slender wrist, segments that overlapped, crossed, and oozed.

It was then that she felt the light tug on her hand, preventing her from adding to her canvas. Her blurry eyes trailed the fresh spots on her blankets before peering up.

She felt him kiss her neck, the bumps of her trachea, down to her defined collarbone. He drew caresses over the grooves infinitesimally, his lips suddenly ensconced under her shoulder blade.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to the ghost. "I should have died in your place."

He smiled tenderly and she could feel it mildly against her skin. Elves were the closest to spirits, after all.

"You are beautiful, do you know that?"

She shook her head, but that was another lie, wasn't it? She was perfection itself.

"Live for me." He pressed his mouth against the cuts on her wrist, the bleeding having stopped a while ago. "Live for yourself. There is nothing I can forgive you for."

And he was gone.

When Mercedes woke up, she met the worried gazes of Athena Pierce and Aran, who had wrapped her wrist up and demanded to know what had occurred last night.

Mercedes explained the hairpin, received a slap to the face, and was then carefully embraced.

The day was warm, her ceiling a blue, cloudy tapestry. She felt the rose petals beneath her feet clump as she tucked her golden treasure away. She gently touched her neck, slender fingers falling over her collar. Royal dress fluttering in the slight breeze, Mercedes let the grin rise.

It was time to start over.

Sometimes, Freud lied to himself.

Maybe it was an easy way to reassure his mind and spirit that he had not been forgotten, a mechanism clambering inside his chest that spoke for itself.

He used to complain about Phantom and Luminous wrecking his library, but he actually liked watching their roughhousing.

He used to mumble about the way Aran left the dinner table too quickly, but he actually enjoyed her company on tranquil days.

He used to always, always believe that he would be by the Elf's side forever.

Yes, sometimes, even heroes lie.


Well, I can confidently admit that I am borderline happy and upset. Did you understand the message I was trying to send? Actually, there were probably some secret ones in there too, but I hope the main point got through. Like always, reviews, favorites, etc. are greatly appreciated, and now I am off to be productive with my other stories! Thank you for reading, and see you again!