Gulls called above the misty spray from the wake breaking on the sheer cliffs. A castle stood in disrepair on the top of the cliff, crumbling from years of disuse and neglect. A disheveled man stood in the cracked window of the tallest tower, looking out upon the endless waves. A hand was placed on the window, and the body turned.
A corpse of a man stood looking into a large mirror. Nothing left of a once proud man with the world at his feet. The best of both worlds, all the joys he had ever dreamed of. But they were gone now. His sunken eyes stared back at him wistfully, there was nothing else. Greasy black hair hung around the sallow face; the hands that touched it were cold.
Light footsteps took the body down a winding spiral staircase of marble. Tapestries of ancient witches and wizards hung dusty and forgotten. Swords and wands hung on plaques, commemorating brave deeds done by the people of old. He swept past them, black eyes concentrating on the floor.
The dead garden was bathed in warm sunlight, making it seem peaceful and mysterious. Two marble tombs adorned the garden; they were the only thing that seemed to be cared for. The one of black marble laid in the West end of the garden, the white laid in the East. A small patch of roses lay around the tombs, the colours matching that of the tomb.
After his frail hand picked a white rose, he walked to the black tomb. Engraved upon it was, "Together an Illusion." He pricked his finger, placing a drop of red blood on the white rose, setting it upon the tomb. As he walked, he picked a gorgeous black rose and shuffled to the white tomb. He quaked with sadness as he read the inscription upon it. "It was never enough." Again he pricked his finger, now crimson blood upon the white flower.
He sighed, it was time. The world was spinning around him, but he himself hadn't moved. All those letters, all the horror and the wonder, the newspaper clippings, the faces, the blood, the death.
There was nothing left for him. He had been forgotten after fifteen years. The knife he carried came to his chest, and he fell to the ground, the blood spattering onto the tombs, slowly making its way down to the roses.
The sun shone softly in the dusty courtyard. Gulls called from the sea.