There were many instances in which The Astravian Prince had seen his life flash before his eyes.
Indeed, for each of the few times death's clammy fingers nearly dragged him away - he recalled, with great terror, the sensation of his entire life reversing. All of his good memories. All of the bad. The violence he had endured. The violence he had afflicted. Milestones! Birthdays. Coronations. Encounters... everything. It was dreadful. It made his want to laugh and cry and tremble and vomit.
Yet even that was nothing compared to what the dragon put him through.
For as he stood in the void, noiseless nothing whirling about and both his hands resting - nay - clutching into The Hero's ornate greaves, Darkon sees not just his own life flash through his mind...
He sees everyone's.
Astravia. The land blessed by The Empress. He sees how the trees grew from acorn to massive oak. He sees it's strange non-consciousness reacting to the woodpecker burrowing into its flesh, and the bite of an axe at its trunk. He sees the jackel pups wean from their mothers milk and dash out into the world - some are killed by disease, some by men. He sees the lives of the people. Their laughing, their crying, their gripes and festivals. Mothers and fathers, weddings and funerals, the joyous birth of precious children, and the burying of cold corpses. A million lives. A billion memories. They fly through his mind and weigh him down until Darkon feels his knees buckle beneath him. The Hero holds his hands in a vice grip and looks down upon him with that infernal grin on his face. Is he testing to see if he'd go insane? Simply lose his mind?
No.
The Astravian Prince grits his teeth and clings to himself, seizing hold of his own individuality in the flood of thoughts not his own. He is not going to lose here. He's kneeling on the ground, held up by nothing but The Dragon's cruel hands, but glares up at him regardless. He chokes out curses at him, he spews out every bit of hate he can manage - as if it were the only thing that could nail him down to reality.
The Dragon relishes it.
"Veery good~"
The rush of memories fades and abates. His vision tunnels and The Dragon praises him, yet somehow his words seem so utterly disgusting, Darkon wants to clean them out of his ears. With a flick of disdain, he shakes the spots out of his eyes and stands to his feet, his lip lifted in a snarl.
"Dragon, wha-"
*tonk*
"Uh-oh!"
Darkon blinks, having reflexively caught the... ball? that had been kicked at him by a small group of well dressed schoolchildren. They stare at him, half-afraid, half-expectant as they fidget their fingers and offer shy smiles his way. From their distinctive uniforms, these are... students from The Royally funded primary school; the very same one Suki had insisted upon making available to even the poorest of citizens. How... how could this be? Had he truly traveled back in time?
"Your Majesty Sir Prince... could we... please have the ball?"
"...O-of course."
Darkon snaps himself out of his introspection and rolls the plaything back at the children. They immediately scurry off with it, leaving The Prince alone with his thoughts. He looks to the sky - it's clear and blue from the rampart of the many leveled city. Everything is pristine and beautiful in Astravia. He can see the crops swaying in the distance; always abundant due to The Empress's influence. He can see the clouds slowly moving through the horizon. Children run about, shopkeepers tend their produce, bankers and businessmen mill in restaurants, nobles and socialites chatter over tea...
This...
He remembers.
He remembers standing right here.
He remembers catching that ball, and tossing it back to the children.
And he remembers he was on his way to Suki's favorite cafe (Darkon turns to look, yes! There it is on the right) to meet her for a lunch of sandwiches and pastries. He had been late, and by the time he sat down - he had realized with dismay she had already eaten half his portion in some sort of mischievous revenge.
Is... will she really be here? Did The Dragon... Perhaps The Dragon took pity on me?
Impossible. The Dragon is a cruel bastard of an overgrown lizard... yet Darkon's feet are already carrying him into The Cafe with such eagerness, he nearly knocks the hostess over as he barges in. He looks around, panting, and-
"(mnph!) Darkon!"
A voice.
A familiar voice, so sweet it's like honey to his ears. Oh, how he missed her voice. It makes tears well in his eyes. It causes his hands to tremble. He slowly turns to look at her - half afraid she won't be real. That she's just a phantom that'd simply disappear as soon as he looked at her-
"I already ate half your pastry. That's what you get for not being punctual, my love. Come sit."
But no.
There she is.
Beautiful as the day he met her, her hair ashen and her features wonderfully delicate. Mischievous and bubbling with life. His beloved. His Darling Suki.
And Darkon rushes to embrace her.
And her laugh is silver bells as she finishes his pastry.
