Melancholic Kingdom ~Within the Canvas~ (Chapter One)

Of that which time had forgotten, perhaps what time had never known. The home of those who lived under the protective arms of darkness, those who thrived endlessly to this day, a beautifully evolved race. The tale concerns them, or more precisely, their kingdom.

This place was unseen to man. It was of a non human beauty, richer than the golden glided walls of Versailles, more awe inspiring than the pyramids of the Egyptians or the vast Roman Empire.

This was a kingdom that was built upon the canvas of God, a kingdom of art.

This is the tale of their kingdom from its highest peak of power to its unpredicted end, of the greatness and foolishness of their royalty.

~XxxXxxX~

"His majesty must be obsessed."

This rumor rang thought the kingdom among women of great and poor social class. They would curl their fair pink lips into malicious smiles and hide behind soft curtains of hair, whispering and laughing to one another, bringing hands to lips in order to spread the word. The unconfirmed words would spread like wildfire within social gatherings until it entered the air of the common streets.

"Perhaps an affair?"

"It could be."

"Who is that girl?"

"I do not have the slightest idea."

"I have never even seen her face!"

"Could someone like that be real?"

His majesty was an extraordinary painter who was believed to breathe unseen beauty into anything he desired to paint. For many months at a time he would work on a painting, absolutely undisturbed, never revealing a single detail of his painting until it was hung high upon a wall.

This girl they spoke of within rumors was the being captured within the king's paintings.

This girl that lived within his majesty's paintings appeared to be a mere seventeen years. She was a beauty which glowed softly like the moon, but was bright enough to illuminate the sky. Her skin was unblemished like the petals of a white lily, even within the painting it appeared soft enough to reach out and touch. Her body frame was small and delicate, her small hands, tiny waist and petite face making her all the lovelier to behold. Her hair, a great contrast to her skin was as black as a drop of ink on a quill, so long that it draped gently over her back and brushed her ankles.

When one saw a painting of this girl, they could only feel awe when they looked upon her face. Her eyes were a striking shade of sapphire, shielded by her long black lashes. Her lips were the shade of a cherry blossom in bloom.

This was the pure beauty that had appeared in several of his majesty's paintings.

~XxxXxxX~

"Your majesty…is this girl an angel you see within your dreams? She is in such great detail that you cause the public to wonder…"

It was the spring of April in 1783.

Within his drawing room, his majesty stood before a large canvas, completing a masterpiece. His butler stood a few feet from him, watching his master at his work.

"It is none of your concern, Shirogane. Please hand me the blue paint there."

The king wiped his forehead, his bangs slightly sticking to the left side of his face as he pulled his hand back.

The king himself was a work of art.

He had a slim, tall figure, but well built. He was young, twenty-six years old to be exact. He had eyes of a dark hazel color, accompanied by a handsome face and long black hair, tied into a low ponytail that always draped over one shoulder, stopping at the very top of his chest. Even in the faded paint splattered robes he wore at the moment, he was obviously attractive.

Shirogane bent down to the small white table, retrieving the small dish of paint and placing it beside the king on a long brass work tray. As the king placed his brush into the paint, he cut a sideways glance at Shirogane.

"You may rest until I have further need of you."

"Thank you, my lord."

With this, Shirogane made his leave, careful to quietly close the polished wooden doors behind himself. He walked down the large hallways which were decorated with many precious works of art, paintings and ceramics alike. He stepped past the young maids scrubbing the stairs, past many study rooms, and enormous French windows, not stopping until he reached his room within the servant's quarters.

His room was better than that of the ordinary servants of course, since he was a personal servant of the king. Though plain, the room was big enough, and contained the necessary units of furniture. Shirogane closed his door behind him, collapsing onto his bed, his sky blue eyes narrowing as he stared at his bare stone ceiling. He let out a deep sigh, drifting into thought.

"Your hair…it is white…like a feather. I will call you Shirogane."

Shirogane. This name had been given to him by the king when they had first met. He was named for his unnatural white hair, which he had been born with. It seemed to be suited to him, for it framed his feminine face perfectly.

He had been brought before the king when he was merely three years old. He was a playmate to the king, who was the same age as he was. Throughout his childhood, the king was still the same as he was now. He was quiet, studious, and inactive, though he did seem to enjoy being outdoors during the spring if it wasn't too hot.

Shirogane himself was a bit quiet, though he did enjoy outdoor sports, which the king had always been opposed to play. He found slight satisfaction in the fact that he was the closest person to the king, though he was never allowed to call the king by name once in his life, and had a job which was mostly equivalent to being a slave.

Knowing all of this, he did not mind, though there was something he wanted, a thought which quietly burned within the depths of his mind.

He wished to be truly recognized as great.

~XxxXxxX~

Color fled from the king's brush onto the woven canvas, creating the shadows cast by an oak tree, covering a small brown bench on which she had fallen asleep. She was his artistic influence. She was his new reason to continue creating his works.

He stepped back a few feet from the canvas, meticulously scrutinizing his painting.

Within it, she lay on a small wooden bench which was shaded by an oak tree. A small stone path was visible near her feet, which were bare. She wore a simple white dress of lace, a pale blue shawl draped over her narrow shoulders. Her hair fell around her small sleeping body, a few small chunks falling onto the grass near her. Her eyes were closed peacefully, her lovely lips ever so slightly parted, finalizing her innocent appearance.

He was finally finished.

He had heard the rumors that the women spread in his courts of affairs and of his obsession. He thought of it not as obsession, but possibly a strange attraction, perhaps a slight infatuation.

He had met her in the winter of 1781, about two years ago.

At that time, he had gone outside to paint the snow covered forest. He remembered making his way through the ice covered streets and into the woods which beckoned out to his artistic heart. Carrying has canvas, easel, and paints; he had gone in search of the image he wished to capture.

That was when he met her.

She was sitting under an oak tree, smiling as she pet a docile white rabbit. He was simply amazed at how the scene appeared before him as her jewel-like eyes met his. She had appeared surprised to see him, her surprise slowly turning to a gentle smile.

"Good morning to you."

Her voice was as beautiful as she was, ever so soft, light like the breeze in spring. She seemed to have her own atmosphere around her, one that was vibrant like an ever blooming rose.

"Good morning."

He knew that nothing much had truly happened when they met. They had just made small talk, speaking of everyday topics, but somehow, he seemed to enjoy the short moment.

"Miss, before you leave, what is your name?"

He was sure that he had never been this interested in a person before. He had a strong desire to know her.

"My name? It is Yukime. It was very nice to meet you."

Yukime. He believed it to be the perfect name for a girl like her.

"I wish to see you again soon."

Before he had had the chance to truly think, he had let these words slip from his lips and enter her ears. He was glad his voice showed composure, for his thoughts at the time were painted with his anomalous need.

"Is that so? Then maybe we will soon see each other again. Could you tell me your name? I would like to know so that I may properly call you by it the next time I see you."

"My name…it is Itachi."

From that time on, he met her as often as possible, never revealing who he truly was. He would meet her and speak with her for hours, returning home later on to his duties. Time with her seemed to be so precious. He had never known such a thing, such honesty. The thought itself somehow made him want to never leave her side, let his thoughts run to places he had never considered.

He slowly opened his eyes to take a last glance at his finished painting. He smiled at her innocent sleeping face. It was just enough to evoke a comforting feeling that swept through him, revealing itself through his subtle smile.

"Sweet dreams to you…may you smile like this forever."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wow, I finally got up, and I wrote something. I'm glad people actually read this, because, you know, I kinda thought it wasn't all that great when I started it off….so thank you gracious people out there reading! Do review…I like reviews. They're like crack to me.

First off though, let me get a few things straight.

The characters are not vampires! (I can't tell you how many of my friends thought they were from the prologue…)

Also, the copyrights.

Obviously, our lovely king, Itachi, is not my own creation. He belongs in Naruto.

The character Shirogane, whom I included on a whim, belongs to the show/manga Monochrome Factor.

Finally, the OC Yukime is my own creation, as is the world in which this story is taking place.

Thank you for reading, and correct me if I forget any copyrights, you know, I kinda like to stay out of trouble….unless it involves yaoi. Then for the love of god, I'm already there.

I love you people!!!