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Having resigned himself to a world where no colors would ever show themselves in front of him, resigning himself to live in his world of monochrome grey, grey, grey- he slumps on his throne and wants the loud night to pass unnoticed in his eyes until he sees her there. Dancing into the night, under the dazzling stars.

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A blush pink rose sways on the thorny branches of the rose bush, its petals a lighter shade than the sunset that was peeking behind its home.

And then a blonde haired man with blue jeweled eyes comes into its vision and overtakes everything else in front of the rose, and falls.

His fingers touch the thin petals and perhaps it was due to the breeze, but he can swear they shivered at his touch. He leaves it be and goes back into the palace, his tie in his hand, hair ruffled from the wind. He doesn't see the rose glowing under the rays of sun behind him.

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Ijekiel.

Even the way his name rolled off her tongue made her want to bury her face into a pillow, as she tucked her hair behind her ears she snuck around the marble pillar and made her way to the gardens. He was there, as always, having managed to escape from his father's grasp.

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Ijekiel watches from the other end of the battlefield as her sword makes graceful turns. She spots him there and blinking through the blood that drips from her hair, her sword plunges into his chest.

Even from so far away she could see him mouthing words. "I am in love with you." She sees his golden eyes close, his silver hair falling into his eyes as he crumples to the ground.

He doesn't see her falter, doesn't see her whisper, "I love yo-" her lips press together, unable to bring the last word out of her mouth. She turns away, a trace of tears on her face.

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"Princess Athanasia, you must be so pleased that you're engaged with the son of Duke Alpheus!" Athanasia's smile twitched as her fingers clenched upon the teacup's handle.

She wanted to scream "Pleased, my arse! It's just a mutually beneficial exchange between the two of us, nothing more."  But she couldn't of course. For appearances sake. Her smile practically glows as she sets down her cup and opens her mouth- only to be stopped by a voice near them.

"Please excuse me ladies, would you mind if I take her highness with me for a conversation?" Ijekiel. That bastard-

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Claude lingers there in the shadows of the piano room, his body in the air, but regrets weighed down upon his see through shoulders as if they were still there, making his life worse even though he was dead. What had gone wrong in his life? What had he done to deserve this pain?

Then Diana came. With her long blonde hair, and shining eyes and flowing pink dresses. And with her she brings the light that had been lost to him for so long, and he finds himself not chasing her away as he did for others with his drawn out cries, and shameless haunting. 

She was different, the way she played the piano with deft fingers, writing new notes onto her music sheets. The way she had no accompaniment but followed her own beat and tune the way Claude thinks he would have had he still been alive.

She comes and goes, and one day, he shows up in front of her after waiting for so long.

In front of her is a tall, blond man. His eyes are gems of blue, and at first glance, Diana might have found him scary what with him floating in the air. But something stops her from running away in fright.

The way his eyes looked like her's the moment her hospital visit ended. This..this arrangement wouldn't be bad for the both of them, Diana thinks to herself. She proposes to Claude, that was his name- having blurted it out the moment he materialized before her in a tizzy.

"I'm Claude."

"Well, Claude. How about I help you pass onto heaven in peace?" 

They spend their days together, quiet except for the odd suggestion here and there. The way their music flowed together like ice clinking into a glass of sparkling water.

It all fit so perfectly, and Diana watched Claude as he hovered at her side, nodding his head to her music.

Because today was the last day. 

Diana doesn't tell him anything, because well, he never asked. But perhaps he didn't know, didn't understand the concept of time after being dead for so long, and one day she just stops coming to their morning sessions.

And Claude wonders why.

He can't leave the music room, and so he hovers and hovers, and weeks, months, years pass and to no avail, no Diana ever appears to him.

She had looked tired the last day they were together, but why would she suddenly stop coming without telling him beforehand? What happened?

The years trickled on by, Claude's form is fading away as his time in the inbetween shrinks to just a few days left, until he can go to heaven just as Diana had promised.

And one day, on the hour Diana usually came, someone walks into the practice room and sits down at the piano.

A brown haired woman, a bit younger looking than Diana, and her blue eyes glanced around the room as she played with the shining black and white keys before speaking to herself in the empty room. "So this is where you would come after those routine visits to the hospital, Diana."

Hospital?

Claude drifted closer to the woman who continued on speaking, tears now falling from her eyes as she touched the keys and lifted her lips up into a pained smile. "At least you did what you loved before you died. But it hurts so much, Diana-" Claude's ears buzz at that.

Diana was dead? 

His world shook, the room closing in on him as his form shuddered in place and a loud clanging was in his ears as the room fell away into clouds dipped in pink and red.

Heaven.

He stood amongst the others, dressed in plain white robes, and he somehow sees blonde.

He races forward, the gates shutting behind him as he feels wings growing on his back, wings like the ones on the woman turning back to face him. "Claude."

He's wrapped her into an embrace, pearls strung through her hair and he whispers, "I love you, Diana." She smiles softly.  Her arms reaching up and holding him close as she feels real warmth from him.

Not the chill she was used to him giving off, his hair feels soft against her cheek, her shoulder is wet with his tears, his hand at her waist is large, warm, and she presses her lips to his at last.

"I think I fell in love with you, when you pointed out that scale the last time-" She laughs, and he thinks it's endearing. His heart still beating with a thump thump, even though he's in heaven, and still one of the dead and not the living.

"I fell in love with you when you played that song for me." Unknowingly, their hands drift together and they're holding hands. Their steps matching one another's, heartbeats syncing as they move through clouds dipped in scarlet shades.

Their robes are lined with gold and Claude's wing tucks under hers as they walk in heaven's embrace.

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Claude has been at Diana's side for exactly 6 months and counting and he still holds her hand tightly whenever he can, just so he can feel her pulse that is weak but reminding him that she was still with him.

There, within the white walls of the hospital, she lies in a coma.

He remembers as if it were just yesterday that Diana had been waving at him from across the street, on their way to a botanical garden he had reserved for their first year wedding anniversary. He had crossed first, and even now, he feels he should have waited to cross with her.

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Diana of the sea knew that choosing such a treacherous path such as human love was foolish and naive of her, but such powerful love rarely came to her kind. So Diana took that hand of his, and walked onto the land of Obelia and became the wife of Claude de Alger Obelia above sea.

They spent days with each other, then weeks, then finally months, until all came to pass with under the guise of love, for it was never meant to last. When Diana borne the child of their union, of their love, her only love of this dangerous land, died and left her alone there.

But he did not go peacefully, for if he had, she would have followed him with love in her eyes and flecks of gold, pearls in her hair. He was killed with a sword that plunged through his heart an she found his body, cold and unmoving, and she wailed for grief shook her. 

She can see that monster, one even worse than those of the sea that were not humanoid, for the worst monsters were always that of the land. His brother, related to him by blood, had taken his life and decided it was worth less than his own. He became the emperor, and Diana wept.

Her child was born into the palace, for luck was not on her side. She had tried to escape into the sea, but her doors were bolted shut. She was left there to die. Her daughter, Athanasia, her name so like the sea, breathed the air Diana deeply loathed, but she could not turn back time. 

And Diana who was wed to Claude of Obelia passed into bubbles of seafoam that were as salty as her tears, and entrusted her living daughter to Lilian who would love her, Athanasia, as her own. Along with her husband Felix, both noble and kinder than anyone she knew better.

Felix of the highest rank, and kindness to his name would protect her child, and Lilian with the heart of a mother and the backing of strength would keep her warm and loved. Athanasia would not be neglected in any way, and Diana, at least, had that comfort with her before she left her.

And her baby grew up with legs instead of a tail with light pink scales. But her fate was predetermined, being half of the merfolk who called to her from the sea, every waking day and night. Until she too, fell in love with one from the land and not the sea that called for her.

He had silver hair like moonlight upon water, eyes like the shimmer within golden silk that she embroidered upon. She passed by him in the palace halls, and in the Robane mansion, and little by little, the song of the sea grew weaker as her heart that was on land, pulled her to him. 

Ijekiel was his name, handsome, noble and kind. But that kindness would break him before it could reach the beautiful Athanasia he loved so dear. For when he confessed and she accepted with joy in her heart, he too was felled by her uncle, the tyrant that had murdered her father.

He who was to be wed to the one who had loved him since childhood, had found out of his love to another, and had cried for what she was going to lose. For if she could not have this boy, the man she loved, she would not let him choose another person that wasn't her. She wouldn't. 

She who was born to have everything, was meant to gain everything and she would not lose her love to a girl who was half of a bloodline that was not pure to the land. She uttered complaints, and pointed foul fingers, and plans did not go awry. She staked her claim and said, "Yes." 

Her father, proud man who took what he wished, took what he wanted, and never bowed to anyone, did not like seeing his bloodline lose to anyone. So just as he had done to gain the throne that was stained in blood, he did so again. This time to kill the one who had dared to say, "No." 

Athanasia, dear sweet lovely Princess Athanasia of half the sea and half the land, wept as she crumpled to those legs that never gave her hope. Those legs that were never as welcoming as the sea, and in front of her dead love's body, she fades into the everlasting seafoam tides.

And so, the mother she had never met welcomes her into the sea. The deep sea that welcomed her with pearls at their throats, colorful shells that clicked and clacked, swimming fishes that tickled her with their fins. She was home. She was home without the love she had finally gained.

Her tears did not fall, for they were in the ocean, and Diana now of the sea, one and the same, embraced her daughter. Her loving daughter who had fallen victim to the same fate that she too, had faded from. If only their loves had not died.

If only the land was as kind as the sea. 

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Diana de Alger Obelia was known as a calm, and beautiful Empress. She ruled by the Emperor of Obelia's side with a hand that could soothe even the harshest of remarks, and everyone who knew her loved her.

Loved her until her last moments alive. Claude is beside himself when he hears that Diana has fallen ill, and he orders for the best mages to cure her, only to find it was impossible to do so.

It couldn't be-

They had gotten past this hurdle when she had safely brought Athanasia into this world, why now, why her?!

Diana's last words to her daughter and her husband are, "Take care of each other, for me?" And to the tears of everyone in the room, one mournful day in the Obelian Empire, their Empress passes onto the Underworld, and from that day forward, their happy family was no more.

Athanasia tries to cling to her father more than ever, her once happy father, her once affectionate father, was now a father who wouldn't even look her in the eyes and only spoke the barest minimum to anyone, even to his daughter who he had loved with his Diana for seven years.

Little Athanasia doesn't understand why her father, her darling papa was so mean to her. Not at first. But when he constantly moves away from her, avoiding her grasping hands, her tremulant "daddy?" she slowly, slowly stops asking for him, and adjusts to a life without him.

But she adjusts to a world where she does not have a father, does not have a mother, and the world is small and bleak.

Years of being loved and suddenly having it taken away was crushing, and anyone who saw the two would wonder why did they grow so far apart instead of closer? 

In the aftermath of Diana's death, Claude grieved alone. Pushing those close to him away, even his own daughter, because- this emperor did not know how to love on his own.

He only knew how to love when his wife, his love, Diana- was next to him, supporting him with her love. Athanasia stays locked away in her rooms in the Emerald Palace, only coming out when Lily coaxes her with sweets.

Felix wanting to shake Claude and tell him, "You may have lost your wife, but your daughter is still alive and here with you! Get yourself together!"

Life is solemn.

Athanasia and Claude grow further apart, until at last they no longer speak at all, and one day, Athanasia starts dreaming of a brunette haired girl that has the same eyes as she and her papa.

Athanasia is ten when she wakes up in a cold sweat and realizes, she would soon die. 

Athanasia was cold to her father, her emotions barricaded behind locks of gold and doesn't see her mother hovering beside her, wringing her see through hands as she looks from her husband to her daughter, and hates seeing them the way they were.

Her death had unravelled it all.

Athanasia avoids tea parties with one brunette haired girl, always sending invitations to those who were her age or younger instead of older as she had seen in her dreams. She does not take gifts, nor invitations requesting her at others' residences in fear of meeting her.

Claude stays indifferent to Athanasia's whims, and buries himself in work instead, with Felix silently infuriated at his side. Diana falls deeper into despair at the way her daughter is treated and the way Claude turned a blind eye to everything else but his work.

"Stop it."

And Claude's head picks up from his desk where he had fallen asleep, his eyes wide and full of hope, and dismay falls over him like a cloud overhead that was full of rain and hail. She was dead, Diana was dead. But she stands in front of him, but he cannot see her. So she waits.

Athanasia turns 14 and her debutante arrives, elaborate and beautiful as she stands in front of her mirror, the very picture of a crown princess with her golden hair and her gem eyes, and her dress that was like roses makes her want to cry for the mother that she had lost.

She is escorted by Felix, somehow able to tear him away from Claude for a single night, and she enters the ball with stars in her eyes for the first time in a long, long time, and is met with the girl that will decide her fate. Athanasia wants nothing more than to run away.

Now.

But she doesn't. She stands her ground and smiles and waves, and her first dance is without mistakes as she gracefully sits on the throne that is to the side of the two empty ones. One of them is not empty however.

Diana sits there, watching over her, and worried for her sake. And Athanasia who was without the protection of her parents, or her father- the one with the power to rule over the empire by her side during the most important event of her young life, is faced with Ijekiel Alpheus, his father the duke, and the girl who has blue gems for eyes.

Diana feels her daughter's dormant mana rise to the surface, and with a startled gasp of everyone in the room, a blast shakes the ballroom to its core and their crown princess stands with blue electricity dancing around her.

She would not die because of this girl.

She would not.

The two Alpheus's are flustered beyond belief at the show of power in front of them, and they're wondering how to proceed when she speaks again.

"And who is this that you have brought before me?" Her voice is cold, unfeeling and Diana doesn't know who her daughter is anymore. 

Her husband nowhere to be seen, even though he should have felt the rumble that shook the palace's very foundation, and Diana shakes, her form flickering as she tries to cover Athanasia in her arms.

"Your highness, she is your sister!" Diana's world stops in place and freezes. Athanasia's cold voice rings out as she sits down on her throne again, this time on father's, as she pretends to contemplate what he has just said.

"My sister?" She smiles, and her mana dies down, disappearing again as everyone finally starts to breathe once more. "She is not."

They start at her firm rejection, the proof was in her eyes, how could she say she wasn't? Diana spots Claude in the overhang, slightly hidden in the shadows, his black uniform helping to disguise his presence as he watches the conversation move back and forth without him.

His eyes narrowed, but not at Athanasia sitting on his throne, but at the trio that were trying to speak for the girl with the Obelian eyes. But they were not truly of the bloodline, perhaps they were blind.

Claude feels something bubble up to his heart and blinks. What was it?

And Claude, after not being able to feel anything but despair and misery after Diana had died and left him, feels something he remembers as pride. He sees his daughter, Athanasia- borne of his love, Diana, and how they spent many years together, happily as a family, and he sees.

He sees Athanasia again, not just in the corner of his vision, not just as a flicker of gold turning the corner as she avoids running into him, not just the faint sound of her voice as she speaks to Felix outside his office.

He sees his daughter after so long, and he is proud of her.

So he watches from the shadows as his daughter waves her hand, the sparks of blue magic melding with her soul's rhythm as she shows Claude what she can do.

Her mana, so pure of heart, not even slightly blackened with the hurt he had given her, nor from the death of Diana. It is pure, and the blue arcs are the same colors as their eyes as he silently lends her a hand.

His golden threads reach her and wrap around her in a warmth she has not felt since before her mother had died and he had shoved her aside to be alone by himself. A tear falls.

Their mana interlaces inside the girl that foretold death to Athanasia had she been accepted into her family, and perhaps she would have had Athanasia not chosen to take a more drastic approach.

She would not wait for death to enter her beloved family and take her form. So this unnamed nightmare that had plagued her so, ends in finality when those gem eyes fade to green, and Claude and Diana both see someone they remember none too fondly.

Her appearance exactly like a woman from their past, one they had forgotten until now.

Penelope Judith.

Athanasia, still unaware of the internal conflict that her parents were having by themselves, surges forward with her hands, and out goes the thing she couldn't stand the most. Once they turn green, and the Alpheus's backpedal on their claim, Athanasia sends them away in spite.

She would not put them in jail for their efforts to push their agenda into the Imperial family. She would not hurt the girl who had not hurt her. But she would not sit by and let herself be pushed around when her father had already done so for so long. They needed to talk.

She faces Claude, Diana quietly sitting by their sides as she sees their faces still, hardened.Athanasia breathes in and she finally speaks to him after years of being ignored. "You know, daddy- when mom died, I didn't just lose her that day." A sniffle. "I lost you too."

And Diana's presence bursts like the seams of a handkerchief at that heartbreaking sentence by her daughter, and the scent of roses and just, something that was so wholly her, blew to them in the breeze and their heads snapped in her direction, incredulous.

"Mommy?"

"Diana?"

She wants to laugh at their shocked faces and does so, small puffs of air blowing at them, the scent of roses filling the room and tears fall down their faces as they search for more signs that she was there with them, listening to them, looking at them both. 

"I miss you, Diana."

"Mommy, I miss you"

Their voices overlap and Diana can finally touch them. Claude can feel a brush of fingers on his cheek, something soft on his lips, his hair being stroked.

Athanasia can feel arms around her, a kiss on her forehead, and can hear a whisper.

"I love you, my darling daughter."

"And you too, Claude. So, be kind to each other. Don't be like the years past after my death, work together, stay strong together, you're still a family, and I will always, always be looking out for you from above."

And so she leaves them again. 

The Empress who was soft, loving, yet knew when to put her foot down.

The wife who knew how to hold the reigns of an Empire and rule it alongside a man who knew nothing about family, and taught him what love was.

The mother who loved her daughter more than she could bear.

Claude turns to stare at his daughter, who had felt his mana after years of avoidance, and Athanasia looks at her father who had helped her after ignoring her for so long, and they decide that it had been long enough.

So the years continue to pass, and they begin to talk again. The atmosphere of the palaces grew more bright, gardens of roses were built in their Empress's memory, and their crown princess and their emperor were finally going back to the relationship they had before their loved person had died, leaving them behind, but watching from above. 

And so death that Athanasia feared in the nights when her mother was not there to comfort her with her songs, when her father was not there to rub circles into her back, did not come to pass as her dreams had threatened. Because she had family with her that would not let it pass.

Obelia was peaceful, no news of the black magic that had stormed the ball came to their ears, no sightings of a girl with brunette hair and green eyes that had once claimed to be the sister of their crown princess. Until her death was reported by someone.

And then, all was well.

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Claude never really knew how to function without someone by his side, it was just the way royalty was designed, and it was a fatal flaw that should have long since been fixed, years and years ago.

Claude knew that all too well.

But only when Diana had died, did he really realize. He drinks himself into a stupor whenever he can, because the nights were all too long and stifling for his conscience.

He had let her die without him by his side, had not given her his love when she desired it the most, and he had made her die alone when she had given birth. 

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"Kill her!" The jeers of the crowd make Ijekiel's ears hurt as he tightens his grip on his arm, watching from the midst of the people as he sees her being led out to the town square.

"Witch!"

"Begone!"

"Half-blood filth!"

Blonde hair shimmers even though it's covered in dust. Athanasia, her highness, once crown princess to the empire Ijekiel lived for, walked up the stairs to her death.

Shackles clanking around her ankles, chains wrapped around her wrists, her head down and shoulders shaking as people threw pebbles at her head. Ijekiel hated it all.

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He has hair like the darkest of winter nights, a dark, dark black that threatens to engulf her in a comforting embrace as she slides her fingers through his silky strands. Sometimes, it is longer than she was tall, and sometimes, it was short- a style she was more used to. His eyes are a startling crimson red, deeper in color than any of the expensive gems she has ever seen before, and none of them could ever compare with his. 

He is beautiful, she thinks to herself.

She likes seeing him laugh and how he doesn’t bother to hide his snickers behind a hand, or how he doesn’t seem to care much about the social status she suffers under. He comes like a breath of fresh air, and he stays because he has become so much more than that. 

When he uses his magic, it lifts up her hair and makes her steps lighter than before, and she can see sparks as she blinks in awe of how in control he is of it all. He points out that she should start learning soon, how the buildup inside her wouldn’t ever lead to a good conclusion, and she nods knowingly. 

When he teases her, she used to retaliate, but as it went on she finds herself distracted by other things, and in time it is she that is doing the teasing. Their roles switched, she finds some fun in her life that is drearier than most, and seeing the way he shies away from her makes her laugh. It almost takes the pain away. 

He grows, and grows, and soon, one day, he towers over her, like that day so long ago, yet his hair stays short, and she keeps it to herself that she likes both styles. She couldn’t feed his ego too much, he’s already the youngest Imperial mage ever recorded. 

He feels like the water, how it encapsulates her, takes her away from her darkest places and brings her to the light again. How his hands hold her own tight, and how she likes to go along with it, a tidal wave that safely brings her to shore but with a sense of belonging. 

She likes how he supports her with his actions, his words often saying the opposite. She likes how he manages to always keep her safe from harm, and how he always appears when she needs him to lean on. She likes how he startles at the use of his name, the way he tilts his head at her voice, and she thinks he’s a wonder that she should have found sooner because this one was a keeper. 

She blinks at him from under her eyelashes and sneaks a glance at his side profile, framed by the sunset and thinks she would like to see that vision for the rest of her life. Maybe she can make that happen. 

She has hair like the rays of the morning sun that gently brushes a glow upon the land, a delicate gold that slips through his fingers, unlike the golden threads of embroidery that tangles when being sewn. Sometimes, it’s let down and he can make the wind blow through it under the guise of making her pout. 

In reality, all it does it make her more enchanting, a picture right out of a fairy tale. 

She has eyes that are true to her bloodline, and those light blue gems sparkle when she calls out his name, as if they did not belong to a girl that was mortal, but one that was a fae. 

I could stare at her all day and never get bored, he thinks to himself. 

He had come because she was interesting, and he stayed because she was worth it. He couldn’t stay next to her as a person of unknown origin, so he elevates his rank until he can. He likes to brag that he’s the youngest when in fact he’s the eldest of them all, but they don’t need to know that, now do they? 

He likes seeing her smile, the bright and cheerful ones that could make the rain stop and the sky clear up, not the ones that were melancholy because she’s preoccupied with other thoughts that make the skies open up and cry. 

He likes making her laugh as they dance together in the sky under the moonlight, the stars twinkling in their favor as she holds onto him tight. She shouldn’t be afraid, he would put her before himself- he would protect her with his everything. 

He loves seeing her move her mana around, the ease of her settling into a pattern of normality making him breathe easier as he props his chin up onto his hand and watches her spin around in the air. 

But he also likes seeing her do her best in everything she does, even if she says she doesn’t want to do it. He tells her he could make it all go away, make it worthless, but she stops him with a firm refusal because what would be the point of her hard work then? He likes that part of her too. 

He likes every aspect of her, and he doesn’t know when it first started, this feeling that grows and grows inside him, each passing day. He likes the way she words herself when talking to those who demean her, how she doesn’t back down from fights she can win, and how she feels like the way he believes warmth, and comfort feels like. 

She feels like the sun, so he wonders if this emotion was built to last- and thinks, nothing can last forever, not even him.

Until one day as she’s looking back at him, she shouts across the sea and it carries over to him like a world upon his shoulders, and he gapes, wondering if he heard it right. Surely she was joking? He was always the one to crack the jokes and wonders if she just chose this timing to make him the fool instead and he laughs, not wanting to let his voice crack in his nervousness. She shouts it again, this time from a closer distance and she’s flying into his arms, and her lips land upon his. 

Because in the right places, some things can last forever.

And in the heart where happiness lies, love can choose to make itself a home there, eternally.

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A : A kiss.

Ijekiel wakes up to the faint scent of roses upon his sheets and he mumbles something incoherent before rubbing his cheek against his pillow. Feeling a hand on his head, he turns to blink sleepily at Athanasia, as brightly framed by the sun as the day they first met when she tumbled from the sky.

"Good morning."

"...Morning."

He feels her stroking his hair and his arms slide around her waist, pulling her next to him as she smacks him playfully. "You have to get up!"

"..Kiss me first?" 

Even after so many years, she blushes at his words, and he wants it to last forever. Her soft hands are cupping his face and her jewel eyes are so close, he can see the striking color.

Her lips press onto his forehead for a second, and then she's brushing his hair over it again with a quiet, "Now, are you going to get up, or not?" He nods, releasing her, and the sound of her shoes tapping away in the corridor fades away.

He stretches, slipping on a pair of shoes before going to wash up. He's combing his hair when he stills in the mirror. Leaning in close to the reflective surface he brushes away silver strands, his gold eyes staring back at him, and he stares at his forehead. She had given him a kiss, alright. 

He's still chuckling as he walks out of their room, the maids shoving each other out of the way as they giggle at the sight of their Emperor consort with a very prominent kiss mark in pink lipstick on his forehead.

He liked seeing it there it too much to wash it off after all. He couldn't wait to see her face when she sees him walk in with it. He hums as he grabs the handles of her office and pulls. 

B : Reminders

Ijekiel is walking among the people of the capital, the hustle and bustle of the streets never failing to draw a smile upon his face as he strolls down aisles of stalls. Then he stops, spotting something through a storefront window, and he's going in, the bell ringing his entrance.

Minutes later, he's exiting, the owner bowing as he leaves, and Ijekiel holds a small box that he places into his coat pocket. 

And when Athanasia opens that small box, she's stunned at the gems that sparkle back at her. Silver that reminds her of his hair, and a glittering gold that reminds her of his eyes.

She slips it on, admiring it as the light hits the ring, and she sees him smile. He holds her hand, and she can see the ring of gold like her hair, and the sparkling blue of her eyes on his finger, and it's perfect.

C :Treasure

He still remembers when he drew that god-awful drawing of her that sunny afternoon. They had sat under the trees, its leafy canopy protecting them from the sun's rays, and surrounded by pencils and charcoal, they drew each other.

He had been embarrassed to show her such a side to him when she takes his drawing and looks at it. He looks at the drawing she had set aside, and is struck dumb by the way he looked on the paper.

Dark strokes contrasting with the way she had erased, making it a soft image even with the black edges. He could imagine he was looking at a memory of himself, and he supposes in a way, it was true.

They gather their things, and when she sends him off to his residence, he feels something strike him as odd. What was he missing? He pats his pockets, everything still there, so he shrugs and walks into his home. 

Years later, he's pulling a book off the shelf when another slips out and falls onto his foot. Wincing at the pain, Ijekiel holds his book under his arm whilst picking up the one that fell, and he notices something sticking out of the sides.

A paper with black marks on it. Curious, but not wanting to invade her privacy, after all he wouldn't like it if someone did that to him- he decides to ask her when she returns.

She's throwing her coat onto the couch and he's massaging her shoulders as she lazily chats with him about their day. He sees the book on the shelf again and asks, "There's something lodged between that book's pages, do you know what it is?"

She looks at where he's pointing and a full blown smile is upon her face as she bounces up to retrieve it. She flips to the page where there lies a folded white paper, and she unfolds it to show him. It was her. 

More precisely, it was the drawing of her that he had done all those years ago, and he had thought he had lost it- seeing her show him the drawing so proudly, makes him flush a dark red as he covers his face.

His voice reaching her as she sits down next to him, laughing as she pats his back soothingly. "I can't believe you kept that- it's horrific.." She hugs him, her giggle in his ears, and she whispers. "No. It's my treasure." 

She doesn't say it out loud, but her smile speaks for her as she snuggles next to him. "Just like you are."

Chapter Text

Claude, one of God's angels, with his wings that were as white as snow that falls from the heavens on the evening of the solstice, finds himself captivated by a single human by the name of Diana.

She who holds heaven in her name and hair, holds him close, only to perish.

His wings were larger than life itself, no mortal able to gaze upon them for their eyes would burn at the holy light that radiated from his pearly feathers. But still, he tears them from his shoulder blades, his halo melting away, molten gold, and the clouds open up as he cries.

Blood rains down from those clouds above, the sunset ever so peaceful as one of God's loved ones wrenches away from his creator and one he swore to believe in all his life, finds himself loving another.

One more vulnerable, one more beautiful than he who had made everyone. Diana who was not of the same sky as he, but she who held the sun in her hair, the dawn in her eyes, he thinks she is more angelic than even himself. And God is not happy with Claude's sentiment towards a human.

God who had given Claude his halo, his wings, his life, his beauty.

God did not enjoy having one of his angels stray from his side, and so he decides to tear them apart, just as Claude had done to his Gifts. Those wings that were more beautiful than any life, had been torn from his form, and God picked them up and burned the feathers away.

And so God clutched in his hand a single feather, growing bright as he lets it fall down from his throne, and it lands on the heart of Diana. It lances around her heart, chains her to her form, because one day, when Claude finds her, she will fall and he will lose her forever.

Claude had given up those wings of his, to fall down to the earth where she waited for him, and when his feet touched the ground to meet her, their hands touching with the strongest of love in their hearts, feels the lightning draw near, and strikes them down where they stand.

He tries to protect her, but alas he no longer had his glorious wings, nor his omnipotent form, and he screams at the sight of her burning away in his arms. A feather he recognizes as his, burning white on her chest, and chains wrap around her, forbidding her from reincarnating.

Claude wails as he feels his eyes blur with tears, trying desperately to drag her away from the clutches of the angels. But they who once bowed at his feet, no longer looked at him with eyes of love. He had thrown away his life with them for this human, and they despised him.

His very soul burned as if dropped into Tartarus, seeing Diana mouth at him that she loved him, that one day perhaps they would meet again, their love was not that shallow, she believed. But Claude who was once an angel, knew better than that. God would never forgive them.

As he cursed his creator he feels the heaven shake at his refusal to accept, and God who had wanted to bring him back to his side, stares down at Claude, the last shred of feeling for him dissipating into faint nothingness.

He binds the man that once was an angel of his ranks.

He binds Claude in eternal chains that would keep him alive forever, and forever he would have to mourn for his love, his Diana.

That human woman that was now gone because of him, that last sight would be burned into his eyes that were like the sky, and God brought down his hand.

She who had fallen in love with an angel, was dead, forever in the grasps of eternal slumber in the depths of a place Claude could never reach. He who holds eternal life finds no joy as he wanders to the end of the world, and still, he is unable to find his Diana.

She was dead.

Diana who was not of the sky should not have dared to covet what could never be hers. He should have warned those ungrateful humans that they would destroy themselves in such a process, and one of them stepped over that invisible line and brought down disgrace to Earth.

Her heart who had been stolen by a forbidden glance at the angel that had dropped from the clouds, and he who had seen a human that had beauty that was much more than an angel's, God could stay still no longer.

The fury he feels brings a storm of wrath, of terror, and breaks. 

Claude spends years, years, and years, decades upon decades, centuries to millennia, and he stays alone in his grief. Wallowing in the sorrow that was cursed to never leave him be, and death would forever evade his outstretched hands, for God bids him to live with that guilt.

How he should never have fallen in love with a human that would never be an angel. How Claude should have stayed by God's side and forever displayed those wings that God himself had placed upon his back. But now all God could feel was a dull emotion that made Him turn away.

Claude who loved Diana with the heart that had never belonged to him. Claude who had loved Diana with the heart that was supposed to stay still and in heaven with God.

He should have known better than to fall in love with a human that would die by God's heavenly judgement. For that too, would be part of Claude's punishment.

Because all would fall before his feet, and the angel that once was looked upon with eyes of worship and adoration, fell to the world where they looked at him with suspicion. Chased by those who craved immortality, he lived.

Haunted by the nightmares that plague his sleep, his creator watches as the angel that was once of the highest rank, with wings that made even other angels stagger at their beauty, breaks down in a world where he was all alone.

He who had stripped himself of his wings for love.

Chapter Text

"I don't know who the enemy is! If it's your older brother-"

"- is the enemy, your majesty." Diana glares at him with eyes that threaten to spill tears at any moment. Claude's breathing pauses, and he kneels on the floorboards, searching for something amongst the precious jewels.

Diana holds back her tears at the sound of Claude going through the jewelry she had thrown onto the floor in a fit of rage. He who was the emperor, was kneeling in front of her, but she felt no joy in it.

How could she, when he was threatening her with such terrifying words?

Claude stands up again, holding the jade ring, and says in a menacing tone. "For your elder brother who couldn't even kill my enemies, I will kill him today."

Diana's heart feels as if it's stopped moving in her chest and she doesn't know how to respond. The etiquette required of her as Empress, it failed her as words spilled from her mouth as emotion took over. "Your majesty!"

He continues as if he doesn't hear her outburst. "Your older brother's sins are treason to the crown." He forces the ring onto her finger as she weeps.

"Now, put on this ring and act befitting of an Empress, and meet your older brother standing at my side." The ring twists as it moves past her knuckle and the jade glints under the lights. He's towering over her and she can't bring herself to speak longer with someone like him.

Diana's eyes are full of woe as she gazes at him, and he speaks once more. "Whose side are you on? Just once, have you ever been on mine? Just once, have I ever been in your heart? For one moment, have you ever loved me?!"

Diana slaps him with all the strength she could bear.

His head swings to the side, more in shock that she had dared to raise a hand against him, someone with the power of armies at the fall of his hand, but more so at the fact that it barely hurt. She still did love him after all, actions spoke louder than words, truly they did.

He recovers quickly, seeing her look of misery, and forlornly, he whispers. "Don't stand on his side- that is the only way you will survive this."

She can't believe he's even saying such a thing to her, where had their love gone? All of it gone because her brother had not killed?

She stares at him openly, the only person to stare at him from up close, the only person allowed to even look at him head on. He had always liked that about her, but now? She was being stubborn.

All she had to do was throw away her family- was he not good enough for even that? 

Chapter Text

The danger grew closer as the battle raged around her, but still, everything in her world grew brighter with his smile, and with a voice that faded into the wind, Lilian York said farewell to her only love. "Goodbye, Felix..."

And the sword punctured her heart as he screamed, the light in her eyes dimming, but still she smiled her fair, beautiful smile. 

He watches as she falls, as if in slow motion, her hair swaying in the wind, loose as her ribbon fluttered to the ground, abandoned by its owner, although not by choice.

The sword slides out from her chest as her eyes dim, and even as he charges towards the man who struck her down, he knows he would be too late. Tragedy always followed the famed crimson knight around.

No one wanted such a thing to breathe around them, why should tragedy stick to a man who would always face war head on? All wanted their loved ones back home with them, safely, at the end of such battles. 

He cradles her body to his side, his fellow soldiers crowding around the two as they fended off their enemies, and Lilian breathed her last in his arms. Silent tears falling onto her face as he sobbed into her hair, his red mana glowing around them as his emotions grew wild.

"I should never have stayed a knight- I should have just married you and let you stay far away from danger- what have I done..what.."

He was breaking apart, for those enemies of the crown had known who his weakness really was. Not the royalty he had pledged his sword to. It had always been Lilian. Lilian who he loved- who he held close to his heart. 

His only heart and soul. And now? Now she was gone.

For she had left him, just like his mother had all those years before.

Chapter Text

Claude's head is in his hands as he mutters into his palms, in a low voice that Felix can barely hear. "You say they were blank pages, but why do I see scribbles of crayon that I protect with my mana?"

Claude looks up at his knight who played with his daughter, and shouts at him with mana forcing anger through his voice with dangerous power. 

"You say she was never real, and yet why do tears fall from your eyes?! Why do you speak as if you've never met her before, when you've spent years at her side? Why do you speak words that you do not mean, when your eyes look as if you've lost something dear?!"

His face is tense, his lips drawn back with his teeth bared, for he feels a dark anger filling his heart, because no one but him could understand what he was shouting about.

No one remembered her, for reasons unknown, and yet- he knew that she had been real. So why wasn't anyone else coming forward? 

His gem eyes spark with a rage that hadn't been seen since those days of rebellion, on the battlefield where war waged for a throne that was covered in blood. Felix stands before him, unable to retort, because he couldn't place what the feeling in his throat was. For it was pain.

Felix opened his mouth to speak words such as "Your majesty, forget Athanasia. She was never real, just a figment of your imagination you made into being when Lady Diana's death occurred. For the people and for the empire, forget this child who does not exist." But he just couldn't. 

For there lived a sorrow that could not be forgotten. A pain that would not cease. It followed them all around, and even Lily found herself resting when packing up her things to leave the palace. Her hands clenching upon a hairbrush, and staring into an elegant mirror where only she was reflected. 

She did not remember who lived here, once. A princess, his majesty had proclaimed. The only crown princess of the empire, but no one but his majesty remembered her.

So, she did not exist. She could not.

How could everyone but a single person forget such an important existence? Was it never meant to be? Was everything that had happened for him, just a way to cope with Lady Diana's death? That couldn't be- it was impossible for such a powerful emperor to fall prey to such weakness.

But there was no other explanation. After all, there was no evidence to suggest anything otherwise. 

Chapter Text

Diana of the sky who cherished a human counterpart, knew nothing of what was to come. Her fellow immortals had only spoken of the joys of what love could bring, and how the heart would grow fonder with every passing spring.

They should have told her of the consequences that would be brought down upon those she chose and loved, and upon herself. 

Diana who had found a lover in the arms of a mortal named Claude, who was righteous, noble and great, found herself falling deeper into the well that was love, and she couldn't climb back up. Gold may grace her arms and legs and her mouth may taste of the grapes she cares for.

However, gold could not protect a mortal who was a mere insignificance to those who reigned in the realms above those who tread the ground below. She could not protect all who were supposed to be her family, she could only choose. And choose she did. For she names her: Athanasia.

A demigod child borne between her and Claude, and who possessed the predisposition to gain her powers, perhaps even stronger than her own. So when the gods pointed their fingers, Diana chose to say farewell.

Claude watches as Diana fades before his eyes, and he cannot move from his place. She had tied his limbs with vines that were stronger than any mortal, and his struggles were futile against a goddess as strong as she. But still he tried, and try as he might, he could not escape their clutches to hold Diana in his arms once more.

He cannot breathe- for the only love of his life, had disappeared into the mist from whence she came, for she had chosen to sacrifice herself instead of their child, who the gods had threatened to get rid of. Their child who was innocent, and yet he felt grief overwhelm his soul.

He could only see Diana in her last moments with him, her dark blue robes edged with gold, a ring sparkling on her finger, a small cluster of amethyst grapes behind her ear. Her gentle smile that reached her eyes, even as death with ebony wings, came to claim her. Claude could no longer go on.

He could no longer be righteous, and true to his cause. He could no longer be a leader that people could look up to. But most of all, he could not dare to care for their child that Diana had named after eternal life, Athanasia. An eternal life that even she had thrown away.

It had been for them. He knew this all too well. But the pain still lingered within his chest, as if something was trapped within the confines of his heart, and wanted to claw its way out, and only the finest wines could drown his thoughts away. And so the pile of empty bottles grew. 

And so did a child, who had never felt love. One with Claude's eyes, and Diana's blonde hair, how vines could reach up from the dirt and climb up to the sky. As if they could reach the gods who had wanted to kill her all those years ago. Vines that grew thorns like her heart had.

Vines that held fragrant grape clusters that she plucked from to taste. Vines that, with their scent, held the power to make mortals drunk, and would show them their darkest fears. For Athanasia wielded her power with a ferocity that could not be tamed, for a mother who was gone.

Claude drank his problems away. Choosing to partake in bottle after bottle, corks littering the ground as he sloshed the wine around, peering at the glass he held in his hand. Diana stood before him, faint, and he knew she was but an illusion, but still- his heart moved for her.

Athanasia watches as her father, her only family, sobs in front of a painting of her mother. On his knees, as if praying for salvation, as if wishing for her to return, and she freezes as he chokes out words she shouldn't have heard. "Diana, choose me- instead of the child inside you-"

"Choose me, not her." Athanasia's hands shake on the door frame, her nails edging into the cracks in the wood and her teeth grit against themselves, holding back from crying out. Unloved, she was. With a name like hers, she was unloved by the one who was left in the mortal realm.

And when Apollo touched upon the land with dawn's chariot, Athanasia had left that world behind her. The single remnant of her having lived in the world where light was never able to reach her, was a broken grape stem, upon which withered grapes rotted. Her curse to him.

Now Athanasia stood upon a mountain covered in fertile soil, and grass up to her ankles, flowers decorating her hair. A golden circlet upon her forehead, she looks up at Mount Olympus, where they had not looked back when her mother had chosen her death to save her. This time-

This time, she would make them choose instead.

For Diana stood next to her, her hair flowing in the breeze, and her eyes gazing down at her only child, her hand soft upon those locks that were the same shade as hers. Athanasia would do her proud. That would be their sin.

Chapter Text

He sits amongst his books that tower above him, books that are worn at their spines, and have pages spilling out of their insides. For he is alone, and Diana is no longer with him, with her words of hope and comfort. Diana who had been his joy, his muse, his lover, his wife.

She who had been his everything, had died not long ago. And yet, Claude sits at his desk, trying to bury himself in work, in the unfinished manuscript of the book he was going to send in to be published. Because if Diana was dead, what was the whole point to life itself?

What was its meaning when the person that his world revolved around, was dead? Claude who couldn't give her the world with his limited funds, Claude who couldn't give her the VIP room she deserved at the hospital- Claude who couldn't give her anything. Yet he was alive, not her.

He was the one who lived, and not she, who had her life cut short when she had everything in front of her, with everything to live for and more. She who could have danced amongst the stars and become one of their own in the process, all because of an incurable illness.

Fate was cruel, and so was modern medicine which promised futures and took them away with words of false hope. Claude's pen shakes in his hand as it dribbles ink over the lines as he writes until his hand cramps together and he's forced to let it go to rest. It was for her.

A wrapped parcel lands itself upon the doorstep of a publishing company the next day, and Claude is buried under his sheets as the rain pelts at his attic window. And when the doorbell rings, and the season changes from the falling of leaves to the blooming of flowers- done.

It was done, you see. Claude had been published at last, and the one person it was meant for, was no longer there to see it with him, to celebrate with him. For illnesses did not care if Diana was a good person, a beautiful person, a all-worthy person. She was only human.

"But they lived happily ever after in a cottage upon the hill, with the seaside just outside their windows. A meadow beyond their low stone wall, and a tall oak tree that shadows their home. Ballet shoes upon a hook, and laughter echoes in their house full of wonder and books."

Claude closes the book and shelves it again, tugging his hood over his head and exiting the bookstore before lighting a cigarette in the pouring rain. He coughs. Just one more. Maybe one more after that. And one more after that-

he could meet with Diana again after just one more.

Chapter Text

Ijekiel's hand slides down the pillar as he crouches behind the bushes, he had a meeting in less than an hour but his throat itched with a pain that he couldn't swallow. Dark red petals were clutched in his hands and he could only hope the dark muted colors would hide them away.

The ground was littered in fallen leaves and the earth was moist enough that he could kick dirt over the red petals, and he prayed no one looked too closely at his shoes.

He adjusts his collar, combing his hair out of his eyes as he enters the audience room and spots the princess standing there, she radiates almost a holy aura, and he can feel the petals rise in his chest again, reaching his throat.

He chokes them down, twisting in place as he covers his mouth with a handkerchief as he disguises his discomfort as a sneeze.

Love- was it? Love. Ah, love.

He doesn't dare to look closer at her highness for fear the petals will rise up again, and he wouldn't be able to swallow them down in front of all the people there. For what he doesn't know is that she's biting back pink petals of her own.

He continues to look away from her, speaking to a minister instead, and once the meeting concludes he's out of the room faster than anyone could notice. He hurls out red petals in his own room, saliva upon his lips as he clutches the sink's edge. Why did love choose him?

Why did love have to be fatal-and in the process- choose to take within its grasp- lives? His teeth bite down on something and he spits it out into her hand- a thorn.