I am so so so so sorry for the delay. Thanksgiving was a problem, a very large one full of many people. I'm not good with people. It was very stressful. Anyway, this chapter was so much fun. A bit short, but you'll live. I hope. Please live!

--

Inheritance: Part Eleven

It was an innocent, white piece of paper. The ink of the printer was black, the font looked old-fashioned, and most of the sheet was blank. It was just a simple piece of paper, just a sample sheet.

Beautiful Death

By Zechs Merquise and Treize Khushrenada

She leaned against the railing beside the road with her head down. Her dark blonde hair trailed over her shoulders, kept as neat and perfect as it should be. She smiled bitterly.

"A normal girl would freak over this," she murmured, staring out over the ocean waves. She was more collected than normal girls, though. She knew she was. It was just that although she understood how important her father's job was, she wished that her parents had more time to spend with her. Sometimes she was so lonely.

Zechs turned the pages over irritably. For some reason, the sight of the paper bothered him. It wasn't particularly logical, so he didn't try to muse it over, but the feeling was there.

Treize took the paper from him delicately and stared at it with a raised brow. He scanned it briefly, wondering what had caused the stormy look to pass over Zechs' face. It was just the title and a small clip, nothing more. Shaking his head, Treize set it aside. "What should happen with the ending?" he asked.

"It should remain true," Zechs said firmly. "If we make it unrealistic, it wouldn't do that."

Treize looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding slowly. "All right. You should do it, though. I have no patience for endings. You can usually tell what they are during the story. There is rarely any point in finishing a story like that."

"All right."

"Would you like to go over to my apartment and play chess?"

Zechs' mind flickered over to the board back at Treize's condo, still laden with pieces that were half-way through their moves. "All right."

--

The first ending that Zechs tried to write was laden with bitterness and pent-up emotion. If defeat tasted like ashes and freedom tasted like salt, that tasted like ice. The half-forgotten ghosts of feelings came back full force and poured into the keys and onto the screen. The sight of those words had been startling. He had barely felt connected to them at all, wondering if some demon had possessed him and taken control of the keyboard. He had saved it to the small part of his hard drive he reserved for screw ups that he couldn't get rid of and started over with little more success. He erased that one and opened a new document once more, this time doing a bit better.

Regina could hardly believe that the air that she breathed was the air of peace. She still couldn't believe it, even after these three years. Her hair was shorter now. The golden strands flew around her in the wind, blurring her vision as they fell before her eyes. She leaned against the guardrail and looked over the beach.

This was where it had all started, wasn't it? This was where she had first met him. She wondered if she would ever stop feeling this way, this regret mixed with longing for what could have been but wasn't. She could still see him before her, collapsed on the beach. Then it disappeared, only a fragment.

Stepping up beside her, her brother rested against the railing too. It was the same pose, the same likeness, a show of the blood that connected them. Their eyes met, the same color but a shade of a difference between hers and his.

"He was my friend. His family always visited Sanq. I don't believe I ever told you that. He killed so many people but he believed in what he was doing so strongly. Now he's..."

"My soldier was like that," Regina said with a wry smile. "You met him, didn't you? On his way here? He believed so strongly. I always felt like he had come down from the stars like an avenging prince to impart the need to fight in me."

"A prince of the stars..."

They were quiet again, staring over the relentless waves. Her light summer dress fluttered around her ankles and the small braid that fell along one side of her face blew back in the wind.

"What happened to them? What happened to the other pilots?" he asked her, lashes sweeping down to hide his eyes.

"You know what's funny? I don't even know. I think that the Preventers know, but no one else. Not even me." She bit her lip. "I don't even know if they lived, Arden."

Her eyes stayed steady. His studied his hands, clenched over the rails so that the knuckles showed white under his skin. "Will you take care of it here, Regina? Until I come back? I need..."

He needed to say goodbye again. He needed to mourn the anniversary in private, to let his heart break all over again, to remember everyone that had died for them and their cause. Regina knew what he needed to do. She had done it last year, and the year before. "You know I will."

The stone of the monument was white, carved so that it appeared as if ivy curled all over it. The name was printed on it in curving, ornate letters that Arden traced over with white-gloved hands. Every veering point was caressed, the cold entering through the gloves and freezing his skin.

"I wanted to die with you."

Regina heard the whispered words and decided to leave in peace, carrying her own demons, to the other grave that she recognized in this graveyard. This was simple, nameless, and all that was on it was a pair of etched wings. It was just as she had known he would have wanted. He probably wouldn't have wanted this to begin with in case it could be connected with him. She smiled through tears.

"I wanted to win for you. I don't know if I did."

The wind lashed the snow against them, covering everything in sight with pure white. It filled the tracks they had made getting into the cemetery for the fallen of their war, making it seem like they had never existed. Had Arden's commander really thought death was beautiful? Regina saw Arden rest his head against the gravestone, his teeth tearing into his lower lip.

The blood stained the flawless covering of snow.

--

"I suppose the first match is yours," Zechs said, frowning.

Treize smiled. "I suppose that a celebratory glass of wine is in order. Would you like to play again?"

Zechs shrugged gracefully. "I'll set up the board while you get the wine."

His hands went through the motions automatically, each piece set where it belonged. The squares of the board were so clearly cut and contained, the battlelines so easy to understand and see.

Epyon exploded behind his eyes and Zechs flinched, accidentally knocking a piece to the floor. He bent down to pick it up again.

"Did you finish the ending?" Treize asked as he came back through the kitchen door. Zechs carefully placed the piece back where it belonged.

"Yes. I'll let you read it tomorrow, maybe."

Treize looked at him for a moment, patiently curious as he waited to see if Zechs would say anything else. The blonde just shook his head.

Making a noncommittal sound, Treize handed him a glass. "To new beginnings." Seating himself in the chair opposite Zechs, he moved the first piece on the board.

--

An ending shouldn't have hurt as much as Zechs' aching head did. He could feel his temples pounding, the blood hammering against his ears until all he could feel was his own heartbeat. For several long moments, he couldn't remember why.

His thoughts spun lazily, flinching with pain over the ending of "Beautiful Death," moving on to their chess game and the moves expressed. When the first game had ended, Treize's bishops had skillfully cornered one of his queens. It hadn't taken long for the other one to be forced to admit defeat. It was a good loss for Zechs and a good win for Treize. Then they'd had wine.

Wine. Treize loved red wines, though Zechs thought the taste was somewhat flat. Wine, though, would explain why he couldn't remember much now. He cracked open an eyelid and his vision swung, dizzying. He must have drunk too much, forgetting his low tolerance for it. He burrowed himself into the warmth surrounding him, trying to think beyond the pain. Come to think of it, Zechs mused before he could look away from the thought, Treize had often plied him with alcohol when he was upset from a battle. They had usually ended up in...

Bed.

--

Oh my god, I just had fun. A lot of fun. (dies) You are all so going to hate me, yet I'm still grinning. Mwahahaha! I am the queen, I am the pinnacle, I am the LORD! And I absolutely cannot stop grinning. This is insane. If you see any typos, notify me, please! Review and tell me how much you want to kill me, because boy would I want to kill me. Hehehe.