Trick of Sweet Time

Disclaimer: This is a purely non-profit story written for entertainment purposes only. The characters of Demon Diary belong to their respective owners.

Summary: Although he denied it, Demon Lord Krayon of Egae could tell his finale was fast approaching. He instinctively knew it; the rest was just a trick of sweet time. Krayon x Raenef IV, Eclipse x Raenef V :in progress:

Author's Notes: I don't know what inspired this, but I'm actually pretty happy with it. I know demon lords are supposed to be "immortal", but then how would you have a 4th generation? Forever is not forever. Enjoy things while they last.

Chapter 1

"Why so glum, love?"

Krayon turned dejectedly away from the mirror to face his lover. "I'm getting so old," he whined. "Very soon, I'm going to look a terrible wreck."

He looked back in the mirror, and studied his reflection with a grimace; there simply was no more youthful charm. Slender-fingered hands, mischievous and childlike, soon covered his eyes.

"No you're not, so stop obsessing," the dark-haired demon lord said with a laugh, gently caressing his lover's face.

Krayon brushed his hands away, agitated. "I can't help it! You wouldn't understand; you're still young."

Warm arms wrapped around him, and a guttural voice whispered in his ear.

"Isn't it sad that all benefits go to youth?"

"Tragic," Krayon pouted. He turned around to be met with deepest emerald eyes and unblemished skin. "But I guess as long as I have your youth, Raenef, I can't feel too old."

-

Sitting in front of the self-same mirror as he had many years before, the curly-haired fop of a demon lord studied his reflection with much more scrutiny. There was not a single part of his face he admired now; his expression lines were too permanent, his eyes were losing their lustre, and his hair laid flat on his head without any sort of vivacity. All of it served to remind him of his impending retirement from youthful living and any semblance of fun. As he carefully brushed his once-enviable hair, he noticed ruefully how veined and wrinkled his hands had become. But he firmly pushed all depressing thoughts aside as he meticulously got dressed; it wouldn't do to be depressed. After all, today was a special day.

His carriage was waiting when he stepped out of the door, travelling cloak drawn tightly around him to guard against the lashing wind and rain. The mud beneath his feet squelched loudly and he was appalled by how insistently it clung to his polished boots. Sighing, he stepped inside and the door closed behind him with a soft click; the sound of hooves of the demon horses was soon heard as his journey began.

He didn't know why he felt the way he did; in all honesty, he looked much better than most demons did at his age. Lately he couldn't sleep or eat, and the accursed rain kept him from burning villages. He hated the dark bags that accompanied the insomniac, and he didn't dare do anything strenuous lest his body gave way entirely. How embarrassing would that be? How long had it been since he'd last gotten laid? He tried to think back, but realized that the fact that he had to "think back" was an indication of his dire straits. Gods, he hated being old.

The steady pitter-patter of the rain evoked a long-stored memory, taking him back to another rainy day of so long ago.

-

"What are you doing there, Raenef?" the curly-haired demon lord asked, poking his head around the door.

"Painting," came the stoic reply, but Krayon was absolutely shocked.

"Painting? I never knew you painted, Raenef! It seems so…not you?" He walked into the room, eyes fixed on Raenef and the back of the canvas, sitting serenely like a lover. For a moment, he was inexplicably jealous.

"Though I admit it can be a fruitless use of time, it serves in helping me to clear my mind when I need to." He applied another thick brushstroke to the canvas, dabbing the brush debonairly against the paint palette in his hand.

Krayon, finally seeing the picture, smiled to himself. "I don't know why, but when I thought painting, I thought of meadows and sunshine. I should've known better, of course. You wouldn't paint anything unless it was absolutely miserable."

The canvas was bathed almost entirely in black, with tinges of deep purple and dark blue swirled into the mix. The colours depicted a small boat caught in a tremendous storm that raged amongst the waves.

Sighing, Krayon looked out the large window at the dark sky overhead, listening to the music of the raindrops.

"Do you ever go outside, love? It would do that complexion of yours some good."

Raenef smiled almost imperceptibly to the canvas. Applying one last stroke, he put down his palette of paint and the brush. "Alright then. We'll go outside."

Krayon was startled out of his reverie. "What—now!"

"It was your idea."

"Well, yes, but I meant in the sun… on a nice day…"

"It's a beautiful day."

"Rae—"

But before he could protest, Raenef had grabbed his hand and transported them both outside. The pouring rain soaked them both instantly.

Raenef laughed at Krayon's indignant look as his hair lost its curls. "How's my complexion looking now?"

"It'll look terrible by the time I'm through with it!"

And he had lunged at the laughing Raenef, who merely dodged him and ran away…

-

'Probably the only time I've ever seen you truly laugh', Krayon thought to himself as he felt the carriage slow. 'How much livelier you made me feel…'

The door of the coach opened, and he stepped out onto the cobblestone path with an umbrella in hand. In front of him was the large arch gate guarded by twin gargoyles that was the entrance to the cemetery of Demon Lords. He tapped his foot three times on the cobblestone and said, "Raenef IV."

Instantly, the pathway moved of its own accord and he was led down the winding track. On the way, he passed many tombs of people who he remembered, of the ones in (he hated to think it) his generation. Sighing, he was grateful when he finally arrived at his destination: a large marble tomb with sentinel pillars, and the name "Raenef" engraved in gold calligraphy on the top.

Reaching into his pocket and pulling out a vivid black rose tied with a striking red ribbon, he laid it fondly at the front steps.

"Well, love… happy anniversary."

If he ever half-expected there to be a reply (as he always secretly did), he was once again disappointed. The tomb remained immobile and silent, forever foreboding to those who drew breath. Unable to enter and unable to leave, he stood rooted to the spot, letting the umbrella drop oh-so-slightly so that the rain caught part of his face.

"How many years has it been, Raenef? It's been far too long…" he trailed off, speaking only to himself and the wind. "I can feel it coming. It won't be long for me, I'm afraid."

He sighed a sigh of pure regret, and continued speaking. "I miss you. I miss you telling me to stop obsessing over everything. I was looking in the mirror this morning, and it made me think of you. I think I was always in love with your youth as much as you… but I guess even the young can die."

He irritably wiped away the solitary tear rolling down his cheek.

"Well… I can't stay here forever," he said with more cheerfulness. "I'll be seeing you, love." He blew a kiss that carried on the wind, and tapped the cobblestone twice. He turned around one final time at the gate to stare at the tomb that he wouldn't be seeing again for a long while.

Slamming the carriage door shut behind him, he felt better as he knew he wasn't going to be alone anymore.

-

"Chris, you idiot, that's not how you do it!" Erutis snapped, giving Chris a hard hit to the head.

"Well, if you're so smart, Miss Demonslayer, why the hell don't you show me!" Chris retorted, momentarily stopping the erratic swinging of his sword to glare at his female version.

"Fine, I will!"

"FINE!"

From a mile away, Eclipse watched the two humans in the courtyard with slight contempt and a resounding headache.

"Master Raenef," he began, "how much longer do you intend to keep these humans?"

Raenef looked up from his book, and rested his chin on his hand. "For as long as they want to stay, I suppose," he finally answered.

"And should they never want to leave…?" the headache was starting to feel much worse for some reason.

"Then I guess we're stuck with them forever."

One of his veins pulsed; he still wasn't able to convince Raenef that Chris and Erutis needed to be gone. Not merely for propriety, but for privacy's sake. He and Raenef had been having a perfectly intimate moment the previous night, when both the so-called demonslayer and priest both burst into the room, needing Raenef's judgment on who was right (they had been arguing about tomatoes or something…). He had managed to launch a few fireballs before Raenef could stop him, but sadly they had done very little damage. He would have to find some potion or draught that made the drinker unable to speak for about a week.

At least in this case, forever only meant 'until they die'. He was more than thankful that neither of them was immortal (he shuddered at this disturbing thought). Feeling slightly better at this lovely thought, he was about to doze into a wonderful stupor when a shrill voice paralysed him. Horror-struck, he prayed to all evil entities he could think of to make it all a terrible dream, but to no avail. The oh-so-familiar and not-so-welcome voice made the presence of its owner known.

"Bonjoooooouuur!"

TBC

AN: Krayon... French? Ah well.