When Happy Endings Die
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While this is a very morbid title for a tale… I felt this as an exercise in writing. Especially without trying to put the reader as a direct character. This is also a tragedy, don't expect a happy ending (no pun intended).
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Rating: PG
Warnings: Nothing really… character death
Spoilers: Most of Demon Diary
Genre: Tragedy/General
Summary: When the fairy tale ends, all that is left is the beautiful castle holding the ghosts of the past that is slowly fading away to dust…
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Ken: /marches out/ Demon Diary belongs to Kara, Tokyopop and all affiliated. That is all.
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The castle was empty of all life or presence. It was dusty and moldering, its lovely furnishings and buildings the decaying remnants of an ancient era.
Stepping into this construction in the mountains, one could feel the humming of magic that still surrounded it in a bubble of dark, faint melodies. The gardens were wild, holding no grace as plants grew, lived, and died in profusion. A table with chairs settled before that garden, of magically wrought silver. An elegant chair lay on its side, tipped over by some invisible force.
An echo of laughter and shouts…
Don't you dare take that bun! That is my bun!
You eat too much anyways, Erutis, isn't that armor getting too tight on you?
You ass!
Ow! Erutis! Don't bring your stupid sword to the table!
It all fades away as the eye turns to the citadel carved into the mountains, graceful columns and domes and arcades product of powerful demon magic. Slowly, they seem to sag and diminish within themselves.
Nothing is there to challenge an intruder who would dare enter this dusty relic of magnificence. Only more ghosts and dust motes that dance in patches of golden sunlight.
There is a smell like blood but also of dried flowers in the air, as if someone had burned incense to banish filth.
Lost again, Chris?
Shaddup, Raenef.
There is a giggle from behind but a quick glance about reveals nothing. An open aired room is to the right, in the shape of a circle formed by tall pillars and marble benches surrounding a twisted tree wreathed with vines of dark leaves. Blank eyed faces and androgynous, beautiful forms stare from the pillars. A teacher's lesson and a student's questions within these boundaries…
Eclipse?
Yes?
I-I won't let you down. I'll do my best to become the greatest demon lord ever…
The- greatest?
Can you stay with me for as long as it takes?
Can you stay with me… forever?
Forever if you wish...
Longer corridors spin off from the arcade. But as the end slowly approaches, the furnishings become darker, more twisted, more elegant. Portraits stare from the walls now, of beautiful, dark men and women.
A new corridor rests at the end, the entrance marked by chandeliers of black iron wrought in shape of thorns and an enormous portrait of a black-haired man, clad in white, with the most hypnotizing green eyes lined in black.
A comment from the past…
I never realized he was so… good looking.
He was very young when he died…
Raenef IV, reads the inscription upon the golden plaque within the frame.
Not so far away, there is another portrait, though smaller. A boy no older than fifteen years, smiles gently, eyes of clear cerulean blue, hair of flaxen gold. The inscription upon the plaque reads, Raenef V.
A set of imposing, magnificent doors now block the way, made of ebony with enormous ornaments of gold. At a touch, they silently swing open, revealing sumptuous chambers. Oddly, dust no longer seems to have an effect in this part of the castle.
All the furniture is lovely, carved of precious metals and dark woods and upholstered in the softest, most beautiful brocades and velvets. There are carpets upon the ground, of twisted designs woven in grounds of black.
A memory of transition…
It is time to move, master. You have become a demon lord and it is a must you have the apartments for your station.
But… it's gloomy here… If I must move, redecorating is in order!
…your wish is my command, my lord. And they are your rooms after all…
A door upon the left is slightly ajar. A peep inside reveals an enormous bedroom, with equally lovely furnishings, not the least of which includes an enormous bed hung with soft gauze canopy and curtains.
The silken blankets are slightly rumpled, as though someone had recently been there.
Echoes of love and lust…
Your duty is my desire, is it not, Eclipse?
Yes, master.
Come here Eclipse… My desire is for you.
A giggle and brightly gleaming cerulean eyes that meet eyes of darkest violet.
Only to vanish upon the streams of time.
Another door is ajar, but smaller, the panel of a closet that leads to a tiny passage, barely able to hold a human shaped being. It is dark and twisting, but without detours. The end is a stone chamber that has the look of a tomb.
It is circular and made of white marble with silver accents. The domed roof has a hole within it, revealing a full moon within a night sky trickling silver light into the chamber. Two statues of humans stand in niches upon each side. One is of a woman, boyish yet not without feminine charms, in armor, holding a sword. A cocky, wry smile is eternally frozen upon her face.
The inscription upon her pedestal reads: Erutis, Swordmaster and friend.
Next to her is of a man, or rather, a boy. His hair is wild yet he is clad in the robes of a priest's novice. He bears a rod with the insignia of Rased. His expression is a curious one, bearing both petulance and thoughtfulness.
His pedestal reads: Chris, High Cleric of Rased, and friend.
The very center of the room is a marble slab. Upon it are two figures bathed in moonlight.
Laid out upon the slab is a beautiful dark-haired man. He bears no resemblance to the dark creature in the portrait at the front, but has the same cool, polished beauty. He had been laid out with reverence, clad in violet and gray robes spread about on the slab. His eyes are closed, his skin pale. But for the lack of movement in his chest, he seems merely asleep.
There is an inscription by his head. A gold plaque reads: Eclipse, faithful servant, friend, lover.
A burial memorial, for loved ones to rest in peace and be remembered. But who will remember, in this castle that has nothing but dust and fragments of memory?
A flash of gold catches the eye. By the dark-haired man is another male but his form is not laid out with the same reverence and care. Hair of flaxen gold spills about a face that is startlingly familiar, as the aged version of the young boy whose portrait hung with such reverence.
His pale fingers grasp the form of the dead Eclipse, tightly, in the hold of a lover. Black silk covers the long, lithe form of that innocent faced boy.
His lips, his chest does not move at all. He too is dead.
He had died of a broken heart, here, in this chamber, holding his dead lover.
Lovers, mortal shells locked together for eternity, unable to be mourned, unable to be remembered. Locked in a sepulcher in the mountains, fading away.
The end of time, when happy endings die.
Owari.
~*~
Yes, yes, this is strange. But what can I say? The inspiration hit me. More like bowled me over like a giant golden retriever, really.
I will be, in fact, doing more Demon Diary fanfiction, including a series of diaries from the point of view of characters and an Eclipse-centric fiction.
But it all depends on my muse. Who hasn't been doing his job lately. Whack him for me if you liked this fiction.