As Arthur fell, he didn't really feel the chill of the wind hitting his face or the tugging at his clothes. He felt oddly at peace, wondering how long now before it would all be finished. He closed his eyes and took a last breathe before smacking into the crisp currents. This was his river Styx that would drift him off to the afterlife: or so he thought. Before he could regain his consciousness, someone had plucked him from the water and had pulled him unto shore. Arthur, so close to death, did not see who had rescued him. And as Arthur drifted into the land of the Dead, he felt a tender prick at his skin. Then, suddenly, a fiery essence surged through him, blocking off his air passages and causing him to convulse. "Is this death?", Arthur thought to himself. Surely, he had imagined it more soothing than this. This was as if the fires of Hell had come to meet him at the door, and they engulfed his being completely and threatened to burn him to a crisp. Perhaps Hell was real after all? Arthur contemplated how he had been wrong all these years, and how he now loathed this pain. However, the pain soon subsided, and Arthur opened his eyes. Everything was still painted black, but it had a new light to it, as if something underneath glowed, welcoming him to a new life. Arthur lay in his saviors arms and looked around, a new world unfurling before him. He felt stronger, more in control. Was this the other side? Had he succeeded in his mission? Lost in thought, he had not noticed that he was not alone. "You now hail from another shore and walk upon foreign sands that do not know Death, my sweet one." A soft voice spoke down to him, as he looked up to be greeted by a face of the purest marble white, framed with golden coils that engulfed him as she looked upon him. Her small hand touched his face, cold and soft. Her cold was not met with his own warmth, however. It was an icy cold that greeted its kin, and he became puzzled. "What shore do you speak of?", he whispered quizzically. She smiled tenderly and began to stroke his face with her thumb. "Oh, my precious one, you now walk upon a shore that no human will know. You now walk in the darkness of the night, away from the sun and its spoils. You will never know the sorrow of old age, and you will never know the grasp of Death upon you. You now walk amongst those Damned ones, those cursed with immortality. And for that, you must forgive me. In my selfishness, I have cursed you to walk the shores of the Undead". A single tear fell from her face; not a salt tear, but a ruby tear, a tear of blood. Arthur clung to her fur coat and began to shake with rage. This creature, so beautiful and wise, had taken from him the last thing in this world that was under his control. He met her eyes and saw that she was filled with sorrow, filled with sincerity. Those eyes soothed him, and he wiped the blood from her bleached cheek. The hand caressing Arthur's face moved to the one grasping hers, and she closed her eyes. "My Arthur, my dearest one. You are mine and I am your Rose". She opened her eyes, bending down to kiss his forehead. And as her chilled lips met his brow, he lost consciousness again.