It was a dark day. The clouds were gray and looked as if they would be dropping raindrops any second. The Great Evil King Stanley Hihat Trinidad XIV walked slowly and aimlessly towards the edge of the world, where the World Library from so long ago used to be placed. He remembered that journey like it was yesterday, the journey that helped him restore his power that was once stolen from him. Those memories…

No, he had to stop thinking about those days. It had been 55 years since then, although Stan's appearance had remained unchanged. He didn't age like humans, even though had been living in this world for quite a while now.

He stopped and looked down at the lifeless person he was carrying in his arms. A thin, fragile-looking old woman with strands of white hair hanging over her face was what he saw when he looked down at her. Her eyes were shut tight, and her lips looked pale and cold. The wrinkles on her face looked dried up and withered.

But that wasn't all the man saw when he looked at her. She was still…beautiful. To him, she was just as beautiful now as she was when he first met her. She was strong, independent, determined, and extremely temperamental and bossy. She was…one of a kind.

Stan stopped at the edge of the ground, and fell softly to his knees as he set the body down with him. He kept his eyes closed as he held the woman close to him. "I always promised you that you would die by my hands…but it seems in the end you were destroyed by a pathetic human curse called 'mortality.'"

He trembled slightly, and reached a hand to his face to touch the wetness he began to feel. Water trickled down from his eyes and rolled down his face. This water burned his skin, and hurt his eyes; it smelled salty. "Rosalyn…" he started. "See what you've done to me? This…weak human emotion…these are tears…"

He bowed his head, annoyed and confused. "This is all your fault! You've changed me, and kept me in this world for so long. You showed me everything there is to know about this place, and you've been by my side for more than fifty years… and now, you leave me? You've left me alone, and I'm lost in this world now! Damn you, woman… I don't know where to go…"

Stan sensed another's presence approaching him, a familiar aura. Then he heard the footsteps slowly getting closer to him. He was still hanging his head and holding the lifeless Rosalyn in his arms.

The footsteps stopped right behind him, but he didn't turn to look.

"Father… I've been searching for you…"

Stan nodded as the man sat next to him. He looked almost just like Stan except for his ears which resembled his mother's, instead of Stan's pointed ears. He was middle-aged now, but didn't look a day over twenty-five. He aged differently than normal humans, just like his father…even though he wondered how long he would really live since he was part human, too.

His long, thick, blond hair was tied back and his eyes looked slightly swollen. It was strange, outliving his mother while looking so young. It bothered him a lot more when he was younger, seeing her age and fight illnesses while he and his father stayed young. He had grown to live with it, but never imagined he would see her like this. He looked to Stan, and then to his decrepit mother. "What…what are you going to do now?"

Stan thought to himself, then quietly replied, "I am leaving. I can't stay here. Not without her."

"Are you going back to your world?"

"Yes, and I'm never coming back. I don't ever want to be a part of something like this ever again. I should have returned to my world long ago… I could have spared myself from this…this…disaster."

Stan's son didn't reply, just looked solemnly at Rosalyn's body. As his father shifted, he noticed the pink shadow that faintly moved on the ground underneath Rosalyn. He smiled, thinking of the bedtime stories his mother used to tell him when he was a child about her pink shadow, and how the man who ruined her life cursed her with it. For some reason, Stan refused and hesitated to ever fix the poor girl's shadow.

He remembered they had always argued. Even in her old age, Rosalyn constantly fought with Stan about fixing her shadow, a promise she always said that he would never fulfill. The fighting almost didn't seem real sometimes…they were like an old married couple. Their hatred for one another was almost funny, and over time it turned into a hated love. They didn't fight because they loathed each other, although sometimes it seemed like it. They threatened to kill each other, and argued, and called each other names…they were almost like children sometimes. They were naïve, especially when it came to their feelings for each other. They fought because they enjoyed it, and it felt right to them. After all, they were complete opposites from each other; a hero and an Evil King. They were bitter enemies. It was almost as if they were made for each other and they couldn't escape it. They loved to hate each other.

Stan's son always figured that he was an accident, as the two never meant to be together or have children. It just kind of happened. One thing led to another, and then Rosalyn was pregnant. He didn't know whether or not the two ever got married, although he suspected they didn't. He never asked. And if they did, they kept it a secret. Even so, he knew they cared about each other a lot, and Rosalyn was Stan's queen regardless of whether or not they officially had some kind of marriage ceremony. And their son had always felt loved too, even if he was a mistake. Rosalyn loved her son very much, and was always there for him; they were very close. Much to her surprise, even Stan loved his son, although he showed it in different ways. He seemed excited and content raising a child, and seemed pleased to watch him grow up into an adult.

Stan's son sighed. "What about Mother's shadow?"

"What about it?" Stan replied, indifferent to everything around him. His son had expected him to get angry with him for bringing up something like that, but he didn't. He had never seen him this quiet and serious. He knew Rosalyn's death was also killing his father…

"You always promised her you'd fix it."

"You're right, I did…"

Stan's son watched his father closely. Stan kept his eyes closed, undoubtedly trying to hide his tears from his son. He still held Rosalyn's body close to him. He looked like he was thinking of what to say to his son, who was also in immense grief over the loss of his mother…

When she had died earlier that day, Stan had freaked out and left. He had carried her all the way from their home, and that was how he ended up here. He was confused and heartbroken. Stan's son eventually heard the horrible news and set out to find his father.

"You wanna know why I never fixed her shadow?" Stan asked suddenly. "Not only did it piss her off to no end, which pleased me, but it also was a sign of…my influence on her. It was a connection between us. It was like my mark on her, so that I could claim her…it showed that she was mine."

"So you didn't want to erase your mark on her," his son finished for him. It made sense now.

"And of course, there were also other shadows I have influenced in this world…but hers is different."

Another small tear slid down Stan's cheek, but he turned his head away from his son. "But I guess it doesn't really matter now," he continued sorrowfully. "Might as well keep my stupid promise to her."

He reached one of his hands to the ground to gently touch her pink shadow, his fingers brushing over it. His son was amazed to see it immediately turn to its normal color of dull, translucent gray. And with that, it almost seemed as if Rosalyn was really gone now. It suddenly hit them and was more apparent than ever. She was dead, gone. Never returning. Her shadow now looked as dead as she did. Stan was also slipping away from reality every second, unable to control or understand his feelings.

Stan abruptly rose to his feet, picking up the body with him as he stood. His son noticed he was slightly shaking, and he wasn't sure if it was from anger or sadness. Stan's aura began to feel darker and heavier than before.

Stan gritted his teeth and finally spoke. "Son, I am a purely evil, malevolent Evil King. The one person that stopped me and halted my evil plans is now gone… her Light can no longer hold me back! The balance of Light and Darkness is now uneven and unstable. My reign of darkness can now continue and spread, and that is what I plan to do."

His son stood up beside him, his mouth opened to speak, but he said nothing.

"Even you are not enough to stop me," Stan said, looking into the distance with a glare. "Although you have some of your mother's light inside of you, you are also half of me. You can come with me, if you want. I can show you a world where no light exists."

"What about me, what will happen to me?" his son asked.

"What do you mean, what about you?"
"I am part human, Father. And I have light inside of me. You want nothing more to do with humans and their mortality… I'll die one day, won't I? Just like her? Because a part of me is human…that means I'll die, too."

"I'm not sure, but if you come with me and embrace your power, you might live forever in my world."

Stan's son looked to the ground, confused and stuck in between his thoughts. "But…you're not sure. If you're wrong, I'll still die one day and you'll have to deal with this all over again," he said with sincere concern for his father.

"Hmph," Stan replied, slightly smiling. He could feel the warmth, the light in Rosalyn's son. He was gentle and kind, even more so than Rosalyn herself sometimes. "You're my son, my only son. I'll overlook your pathetic human disabilities if you really want to come with me. We'll take a chance. But the choice is yours, and I won't force you to come with me. Hurry and make a decision so that I can leave this damned world once and for all."

His son looked around him, looking at the grass, the trees, the sky. He had friends in this world, and he had a decent job. But his father was his only connection to his mother now. And immortality? Was that the way to go? Living forever versus watching his friends die around him, watching things change…then die himself one day. He had special powers, just like his father. No one pondered magic anymore, or remembered stories about "heroes" or "evil kings." The world had changed. Even the ones that stood beside his mother and father fifty years ago seemed to have either died or disappeared from the world. The only remaining light shined only in him.

"…I'm coming with you, Father," he said confidently.

Stan seemed surprised, but nodded as he looked down at Rosalyn's body. Every time he looked at her, his sadness deepened in him and his anger grew stronger. This world…he hated it! Damn this stupid, detestable world! If he weren't so paralyzed by grief, he would burn it to ashes without a second thought. He suddenly looked up. "James! James, I command you to come out!"

A familiar ghost in a tux immediately appeared from a vortex, behind Stan and his son. "Master Stan! Forgive me for my delay! I—"

James stopped as he noticed the decrepit Rosalyn resting peacefully in Stan's arms. "Master…the hero lady…? She's…?" James looked distressed, confused, and surprised. He walked closer to Stan and his son.

"We're leaving, James," Stan interrupted. "Quit your babbling and open the portal, we're going home. Permanently."

"Right away, King Stan!" James exclaimed, bowing before him. "Am I to assume you are coming, too?"

James looked to Stan's son, who nodded in unison with Stan. James began to work his magic, opening the portal to another dimension. It was right there before them; Stan was never so happy to tell this place goodbye. He gripped onto Rosalyn's body tightly and walked towards the portal before him.

"Father, wait…"

Stan stopped, to see his son reaching for him. "What is it?" he asked harshly.

"Is there any way I could…catch up with you?" his son asked shyly. "I have things to take care of before I leave, and there are people I'd like to tell goodbye first…"

James looked to Stan, who was thinking. "I suppose that could work," Stan said. "But don't expect me to come get you. I am done with this place and I will never be returning." He turned to James. "My son will call for you when he is ready to join us. Escort him to our world when he is ready, understood?"

"Of course, Master! You leave it to James!" the loyal butler quickly replied.

"I will see you there," Stan said to his son. "Providing that you don't change your mind. If you do, I guess I'll never see you again. Take care." He reached one of his hands out to harshly pat his son's shoulder.

"Don't worry, Father. I'm not going to change my mind… I'll see you soon."

Stan's son looked one last time to his mother's calm, aged face. He touched her cheek. "Goodbye…Mother…"

Stan turned and disappeared into the portal without a second thought. James nodded towards Stan's son, and then disappeared into the portal behind him.

Stan's son felt gentle rain start to sprinkle from the sky. He closed his eyes solemnly as the rain began to fall onto his face, mixing with a few of his tears. "I hope you will forgive me for following in my father's footsteps, Mother…"