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It was a sad sight, to say the least; long white hair cascading around a hunched over body, the ground around him deep and soaking red, like an angel had broken its wings.
How apt a comparison, Dantes thought, as burning red eyes turned to look up at him once more.
It was as if the sky had been soaked in blood. The open balcony framed the defeated figure perfectly, blanketing the scene in the harsh red light of the moon, the shadows cast by the rampaging flame only adding to the dramatics of it all. As the flames crackled around them, eating away at the dark wood of the castle, not a word was spoken for a beat, and another, and a third — and suddenly, the silence between them was broken by a growl from the man on the ground, quickly turning into a broken, violent cry of rage.
Really, the best word for it would be heartfelt, but that’s not a word meant for the harshness of what he felt.
The bright gold color of his eyes matched the flames around them in intensity, almost glowing in the firelight, contrasting the dark red all around them. Anger was practically dripping off of him. His teeth bared, he desperately reached a shaky arm out to try and pull himself forward.
“Pitiful,” thought Dantes, and yet he made no move to end it. It was like a disaster you couldn’t wrench your eyes from. But if he narrowed his eyes enough, if he deluded himself into believing all the red was playing tricks on him, it was too easy to see the similarities between him and another man - after all, even though this one’s face was twisted with anger, they were the same person at their core. His expression twitched, still watching the currently bleeding out man try and drag himself over.
He couldn’t stand to see it. Not when it looked so much like him.
He scoffed lightly under his breath, annoyed at his own sentimentality. No, he could not bring himself to kill the other man. But that did not mean he would save him. All he could do was tear his eyes away as he turned around, and that was enough of a death sentence.
The last thing he heard before entering the hallways of Chaldea was another anguished scream, almost drowned out by the roar of the flames, followed by the collapsing of the burning castle.
—
It was far too quiet in comparison, his head still ringing with the crackling of the fire. His footsteps echoed alongside it as he headed towards a room he didn’t often visit, but one he knew well nonetheless. He stopped in front of the door, knocked only twice, and waited. It wasn’t late, but he could hear the rustling of covers as a polite voice whispered from behind the door, “Sorry, one moment.” It was likely the children again, Dantes thought, a suspicion confirmed when Amakusa finally stepped outside, closing the door behind him. For a moment, Dantes feared his eyes would have that same redness to them, never so thankful to see that the Ruler’s face was normal. He quickly chided himself for worrying so much — it wasn’t like him to have such baseless paranoia, and over something so trivial.
“Sorry for the wait,” Amakusa sighed, looking apologetic. “You know how hard it is to get them to calm down.”
“I wouldn’t know any better than you,” Dantes replied, raising an eyebrow. He did know very well, but only because they liked to torment him in their waking hours.
“Oh? But they seem to love you. You should come say hello more often, Mr. Reindeer.” It was hard for Amakusa to hold back from laughing. Dantes simply turned around and began walking away with no intent of actually leaving, yet Amakusa still grabbed hold of his sleeve, laughter slipping through even while apologizing. “I’m sorry, but it’s true. Although I am glad to see you, Avenger; Typically I have to be the one to chase you down. Did you need something from me?”
Did he need something? No, not in particular. It was more a reflex - like waking up from a nightmare that you can’t shake off, fearing for the safety of those involved. He didn’t need something, he just wanted to see Amakusa safe. It’s not exactly like he could admit something so sentimental at the drop of a hat, so he just sighed, causing Amakusa to tilt his head in silent question.
“Let me ask you this,” he started, narrowing his eyes. “If you could change your past, would you have done things differently? Be truthful.”
Amakusa blinked in surprise before smiling gently. “What a surprisingly serious question. Well, I wonder about that.” His eye contact with Dantes broke as he looked to the ceiling, considering his answer carefully. “Wouldn’t anyone? Especially heroic spirits. I doubt there’s many of us who wouldn’t.” The look in his eyes turned a bit sad, but Dantes didn’t feel bad. They all suffered tragedy, this much was true, but what matters is how they dealt with it. “No, I don’t believe I would. Obviously, I’m not happy about being defeated twice, but I suppose if I got so close only to fail, then perhaps it was meant to happen.” His smile returned, ever-present as always. “I’m not displeased with where I am now. All I can do is keep trying, after all.”
Satisfied with that answer, Dantes turned to leave, only to be caught by the sleeve again. “You can’t simply ask something like that and leave, avenger.” It wasn’t said with any malice to it, but it still stopped him in his tracks. He sighed, turning back once again. It’s not like he would tell Amakusa he met an alternate version of him, but any other excuse made him appear sentimental. The solution was simple — he would simply be cryptic, as had served him so well in the past.
He cackled, and in the back of his mind, the twisted laugh of the sorcerer played behind it. “Pay it no mind. Consider it the ramblings of a man gone mad.” In a moment of impulse, he reached out to ruffle Amakusa’s hair. He looked confused, to say the least, hands instinctively moving to grab Dantes’ arm, but not making it the whole way before Dantes took the opportunity to disappear into the shadows.
Amakusa stared at the space he disappeared from, confusion still present, but quickly replaced with a smile.
—
Even if Dantes hadn’t said anything, Amakusa knew he was worried for him. He may not know why, but he was too used to the others habits by now. The Avenger wasn’t the type to admit to his motives so easily, after all — similar to another from his past. He didn’t dwell on it too much; he knew the reason would come to light eventually.
Coincidentally, not long after their encounter, their master woke up from his sleep, and of course Amakusa went to greet him. Surprisingly, it seemed like he had thought to do the same thing.
He was quickly filled in on the details — It turns out they had encountered an alternate version of him, one hellbent on destruction rather than salvation. Through the whole conversation, Amakusa could only remember Dantes’ visit the previous night, amused that it was something so driven by emotion.
Their brief conversation was, unsurprisingly, interruped by a flood of other servants waiting to see their master again — it hadn’t been long since he woke up, after all. He excused himself, with promise he would tell the whole story later.
Amakusa agreed to listen, even though what he already heard was more than what he needed.
—
That night, Dantes’ normally dreamless sleep was interrupted by a nightmare.
It was momentary - a flash of fire, a pair of burning eyes, a red moon - but it was more than enough.
As if on cue, he was woken up by three knocks on his door, and nothing more.
Rather than choosing to open it, he momentarily stepped into the shadows, returning outside his door. He didn’t have to look at who it was, only a handful of people would come to him this late.
“What is it about at this hour, Ruler?” Despite his words, his voice wasn’t cold. It wasn’t an expression of ‘I don’t want to talk to you,’ it was simply ‘Get to the point’. Amakusa smiled, all too familiar with it to be bothered by his attitude.
“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t worrying about me too much.” He kept his hands behind his back, not quite knowing what else to do with them — despite how he came off, he wasn’t exactly overflowing with confidence.
Dantes was quiet for more than a few seconds. “What gave you that impression? No, don’t answer — I already know Master told you about it.” He frowned, looking to the side, expression remaining cold. “I wasn’t involved in that incident at all. I told you, dismiss it as the ramblings of a madman.”
Amakusa knew better than to accept an excuse like that. He reached out to take Dantes’ hand in his own, and the other didn’t stop him. “Of course. And that’s why you came to me, worried I would become something like him.” Dantes’ expression twitched — So at least he was right about that. He continued. “I’m sure you gathered from my answer to you last night, but I have no desire for revenge. I’ve accepted what happened to me. You should know my wish is for the future, not for the past; I’ve long since abandoned any resentment I had.”
He was greeted with more silence on the other end, but he knew what he said had made the point. Dantes closed his eyes, sighing deeply. “You’re far too curious for your own good. Leave the revenge to me. You’re not suited for it.” He began to move towards his door, but was stopped by Amakusa’s grip on his sleeve yet again. He was looking up expectantly, as if he wanted to hear more, though Dantes had said his piece already.
“Avenger.”
“Ruler.”
Amakusa frowned. “ Dantes .”
He didn’t respond, but didn’t break eye contact.
“You‘re aware you can be honest with me, right? You didn’t have to avoid saying you were worried.” Amakusa sighed, letting go of his sleeve. “I don’t like seeing you upset if you won’t tell me what’s wrong. I have no issue in helping you.”
Dantes raised his eyebrows, amused by the sudden display of emotion, letting out a cackle before he could stop it. “How upfront of you. I know you offered several times to save me, but this is new from you.” He meant to simply brush it off and leave it at that, yet Amakusa gave him a look, and he had no choice but to address it. He frowned, looking off to the side. “...I’ll take note of it, but I can’t promise you anything.”
That seemed to put Amakusa at ease, and he finally smiled again. “Thank you, even if you only said it for my sake.” He clasped his hands together behind his back, stepping away. “Don’t let me keep you up any longer. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Dantes nodded, and Amakusa was only a few steps down the hall before turning back around, as if he suddenly remembered something.
“Dantes?”
“Mm.”
“I hope your sleep is peaceful this time.”
The avenger watched his back as he walked away, more amused than anything that he had guessed correctly about the nightmare. Maybe he knew, maybe he didn’t. How typical of him.
Not even catching the smile on his own face, he returned to his room.
—
He had no need of sleeping, it was purely out of convenience for their master. And yet, when he laid back down, it took him no time at all to fall back asleep.
The nightmare didn’t come again.