Dark stood in a garden surrounded by arbours of roses and singing fountains. All around him butterflies spread their wings and birds flung themselves into the achingly perfect sky. Everything here was always perfect. A gentle breeze breeze warmly stirred the long black robe he wore and pushed the purple strands of hair into his eyes. A large stone house stood at the foot of the garden, windows glinting invitingly in what seemed to be late afternoon light. He knew every inch of that house by memory, and his feet led the way down garden paths that they had never forgotten.
This is a dream, Dark thought to himself, This house was destroyed years ago.
Approaching the house, he reached for the handle of the door only to have his hand sink through the door. Dark blinked, then accepted it. It was a dream, after all. Passing through the back door like a wraith, he was not suprised to find himself not in the kitchen that lay behind the door, but in an upstairs bedroom. Across a wide expanse of polished wooden floor and the deep jewel tones of a turkish carpet, a man stood beside a curtained dark wood four-poster bed.
The man appeared to be still young, but Dark knew him to be, in actuality, very old. Meticulously garbed, the serious faced man had his long dark hair swept back in a neat tail, and habitually reached up with one well manicured hand to adjust a pair of gold wire rimmed glasses. Pausing every now and then to scribble notes in a handy book, the man continued to prepare the room without interuption, failing to even notice Dark's presence.
He looked like a nervous scholar, Dark thought, mouth quirking into a half smile, not at all like the Master that he was. Dark had never known his Master's true name, or if he had even had one. He had simply been Dark's Master, and to him, the word was the same as Father.
Moving like a ghost, or the phantom he had been named for, Dark came to stand at his Master's side. He had finished the final line in the diagram he had chalked onto the bare floor around the bed, and dusted his hands across his pants. With quick, efficient movements, he pulled open the thick sable velvet bedcurtains and tied them back. On the bed, swathed in white sheets, two figures lay side by side. Flicking back the sheet, Dark's eyes widened as he saw the lifeless forms of himself and Krad, lying as if asleep in the massive bed.
The Master had begun chanting now, standing with his hands held before him as if in prayer, about two inches apart. As he droned on, concentrating on the space between his hands, a pale silvery light began to glow between them. As it solidified into a mist, he leaned forward and pressed his hands over the sleeping Dark's heart. With a gasp, the eyes of the young Dark flew open. Luminescently purple, they scanned the room frantically before comming to rest on the face of the Master.
"Peace, Dark," the Master murmered, "You are home."
Slowly, young Dark's shoulders relaxed, and one pale tentative hand fluttered up to lay across the hand that still lay over his heart. Like a kitten, his eyes slipped half closed and he smiled. The Master gently pulled his hand away and smoothed the long vibrant locks away from Dark's face.
"I have made you first, Dark," the Master said as he made his way to the other side of the bed to stand beside the still inert figure that lay beside Dark,"And once I was assured of your perfection I replicated you in him. I made a few changes, of course," he said smiling as he stroked a finger across the golden brow, "but he is still you, so to speak. He is your twin, Dark. Your equal and your opposite. I have created you both to keep balance in this world." Holding his hands up before him, the Master began to chant again. As the golden vapour coalesced between his hands and he pressed it home into Krad's heart, he smiled at Dark. "You must keep him safe, Dark. You must always love him."
The wraithlike dreaming Dark watched as Krad stirred, took his first breath, and opened his eyes to gaze, not into the Master's eyes, but into the eyes of the young Dark that lay beside him.
Running a hand over the gleaming yellow locks of Krad's hair, the young Dark looked back up at the Master. "I will always love him," he said softly, "I already do. You made me to feel this way."
With a slightly sad smile, the master adjusted his glasses before replying. "His heart is more fragile than yours, Dark. Krad will love you unconditionally or his heart will break." As he spoke, his eyes swept up and away from those of the young Dark to meet squarely with those of the dreaming Dark. "I leave his heart in your hands."
The world around Dark began to disolve, the floor falling away first, then the forms of himself and Krad holding eachother where they lay, and finally, lastly, the face of his Master. For a time Dark felt himself falling, then plunging into another memory that bubbled up around him like water. Surrounded by roses, he recognised his Master's favourite fountain in the garden. Delicately carved, it depicted merfolk frolicing amongst stone filigree, sending water flying high into the air to musically splash back into the pool at it's base.
The Master sat in a nearby bench, instructing his two young creations on the use of their magic. They had seemingly been at it all afternoon, because abruptly the Master clapped his hands and called an end to the session. Laughing, the twin figures flopped onto the grass at his feet and lounged against eachother's appendages.
"You are getting much better," the Master smiled, "Good enough now for me to tell you what I must. I'm afraid I have been putting this off for quite some time." He paused, adjusted his glasses. Sensing the change in mood, Krad and Dark instantly became serious as well. Standing beside the fountain, the sleeping Dark felt his heart turn over. This was a day he had hoped to forget.
"I must leave this world soon," the Master continued, ignoring the young Dark's sudden stormy expression, "there are things that demand my attention elsewhere. However, when I am gone I do not want all of my work here to unravel. That is why I created you two. You are the keepers of all things of beauty that are created by human hands. Krad," he smiled gently, lightly touching the cheek of his golden haired creation," You are inspiration and the keeper of all artists. Creation is your charge. Dark," here he lay a hand on the top of the bowed purple head,"you must protect and preserve. In creation, there lay much power. Other forces will seek to bend that power to their will. Do you understand?
Mutely, Dark nodded, head still bowed. Looking up defiantly at last, his face was streaked with tears. "You are leaving us, then? Just like that?"
Sadly, the Master sighed. "There are things outside of this world that are in peril. I do not wish to leave you, but I must. Such is the way between fathers and sons." Standing, the master turned to go, "Time is short, I may not get any other chance to say goodbye. I have blessed you both with my love, and that is the most precious thing anyone can give. Remember that."
As he watched the Master walk away, the younger Dark bowed his head to hide his tears. From behind him, Krad wrapped his arms around his counterpart and lay his golden head against his back. "We are not alone, we will always have eachother." Krad said softly, "We don't need anyone else."
Dark turned and pressed his face into Krad's neck. "We need other people, Krad. There is a whole world out there of people who need us as much as we need them."
Krad's eyes narrowed and his mouth tightened. "No," he said sharply,"You are mine. I only need you."
Dark lifted his head and smiled at the scowling face. Tugging teasingly at a loose strand of impossibly long hair, Dark laughed softly. "Don't be stupid, Krad, of course I am yours. I may need to be near other people, but wherever you are is where my home is." Leaning forward, Dark lay a kiss across Krad's lips, cradling his face in his hands. Krad's arms slipped around Dark, and the kiss quickly became more heated. Feeling as though he were somehow intruding upon himself, the dreaming Dark turned to leave as hands began to wander and clothes became unimportant. As he turned the corner out of the niche in the garden, Dark found himself standing beside the younger version of himself on a nighttime rooftop.
My dreams just keep getting better and better, Dark though wryly to himself as he recognised the scene around him. It was the night of the same day he had just witnessed. Below the rooftop where he stood, a shop window across the winding street was lit. Inside, a young red-haired boy stood with a paintbrush in hand. Oblivious of the fact that he had a vibrant streak of green paint across his chin, he contemplated the canvas before him. Behind him, another boy of simmilar age entered the shop.
"Eh, Niwa-kun, you're still here?" The blue haired boy came to stand at the young Niwa's shoulder. "Looks like it's almost finished."
"Huh? Oh, it's you, Hikari-kun," he said, glancing over his shoulder. Hikari laughed, then grabbed a rag and ungently scrubbed the smear of paint from his friend's face. "Uh, thanks. I can't seem to quite get this part right."
Hikari stood and analyzed the painting critically for a moment, then grinned. "Here, just do this," he said, taking the brush from Niwa's fingers and making a few short strokes, "see? You had it, it was just a little unbalanced."
The red-headed boy's eyes lit up, and he smiled happily. "It's perfect! I wish were as talented as you."
Hikari's reply was never heard, because at that moment Krad alighted on the rooftop next to Dark. Glancing up, Dark smiled at his blonde counterpart and gestured to the shop below. "Look at them, Krad. Aren't they beautiful?"
Meeting Krad's gaze, the younger Dark was shocked by the rage and hurt he saw in them. "Is this what you want, Dark? What I have to offer isn't enough for you, so you seek out these children?"
Dark's eyebrow raised smoothly. "What are you talking about, Krad? I told you, we need them and they need us. It isn't as simple as just you and me anymore."
Krad's eyes narrowed and his mouth twisted into a snarl. "I don't need them. You don't need them. You are mine Dark, and I will hurt anyone that tries to take you from me."
Eyes flashing, Dark stood swiftly to meet Krad's angry stare. "No one is trying to take me from you, and you heard the charges the Master laid on us. That boy," he said, pointing at Niwa, "needs me to protect him and his creation. That boy," he gestured to Hikari, who now stood before his own canvas, "needs you to help him create."
Whirling away with a snarl, Krad flung himself from the roof. Landing with a sweep of his wings, he drew a white feather from his wing and charged it between his fingers, then flicked it at the little shop's window. The explosion rocked the entire tiny town and knocked Dark from his feet. Scrambling up, Dark furiously leapt down after Krad. Inside the shop, the blue haired Hikari boy lay unconscious against a wall, and the terrified Niwa dangled from Krad's grasp as he tightened his hold of the boy's smock.
Without thinking, Dark launched himself at Krad and sent him crashing into a wall. Niwa, though scared, fell unhurt to the floor. Growling with rage, Krad hurled himself away from the wall and back at the boy, who sat stunned on the floor. Quickly, Dark stepped between them and punched Krad hard across the jaw. Stunned, Krad stopped, then slowly reached up to lay one white gloved hand on the angry red welt that had sprung up where Dark had hit him.
Golden eyes wide with shock and pain, Krad stared at Dark, who stood between him and the boy, poised to intervene if Krad attempted to attak again. "You--you hit me," he said at last, voice thick with pain, "You struck me in order to save that." Anger crept back into his face and voice. "I understand, Dark. You have made your choice. Keep him." Scrambling to his feet, Krad moved angrily to the other side of the room where the unconscious Hikari had fallen. "You keep him and I will take him. I don't need you." Sweeping the inert form into his arms, Krad unfurled his wings and prepared to launch himself into the sky. Turning back, he snarled at Dark, "I will have my revenge. The next time I see you, I will kill you."
Once Krad had gone, all of the tension drained from Dark. Slumping to the floor, he took a deep shaking breath. Beside him, Niwa picked himself up off of the floor and tentatively put one hand on Dark's shoulder.
"Are you all right?" The red haired boy asked quietly, amber eyes still large with fright. Dark didn't reply, just ran a hand smoothly over the boy's hair.
Still on the rooftop, the phantom Dark took a deep breath. Around him, the dream was beginning to disolve again. In his sleep on a frigid lighthouse roof, Dark turned over and sunk deeper into sleep, leaving dreams behind, unaware that he now lay tangled in the limbs of another sleeping blue haired boy. With a sigh, Dark's sleeping form began to glow lightly, then shrink. Daisuke shivered slightly, then drew himself closer to the warmth of the body beside him without waking up.