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William Solaire let ribbons of steam waft and curl around the ring-shaped indents in his nimble fingers. The antique teacup they emanated from lay slightly askew upon the rocks and grass of the Marseille hills he found himself upon, the night’s full moon rippling across its rich, tea-leaf strewn surface.
William let the revelry of the town’s festivities wash over him, and he pulled his lover down into the cascade of music and laughter with him. The night may have stolen away the sun, and a monster his humanity, but their smile was all the sun he needed, and in their arms he felt grander than life.
The town he once called home had been long burned to the ground. His beauty, his light, his lover had gone down with it.
‘...and now mon amour, I find the halls of my manor empty. These rooms that once brimmed with the laughter of a boy I am so proud to call my own now lay devoid of any life at all. I thought I was shielding my kin from the cruelty of what it means to be what I have become, but now I realise I instead blinded them to the essence of this cold existence. Oh if you were here…’
And even the chirpings of the forest about them seemed to give way to his words, retreating and letting them loom about the expanse of the wild sanctuary. Not even the flowing wind, that seemed to envelop the stars and trail starlight about the earthen peaks could whisk away the king’s confessions, which now weighed upon him heavier than the crown adorning his head, which tonight now lay reverently atop a faded, crumbling slab of grey rock before the man; if he could still call himself one.
‘When I die, Mon chérie, lay me somewhere between the stars and the sea.’, his soul murmured into his lips.
He held them tighter, possibly tighter than he ever had before, the curse he had become enslaved with had granted him unfathomable strength, it was only in the soft caresses of his lover that he felt safe using it, to love instead of destroy.
‘I beg of you, do not speak of such things.’, and he raised their hand to place a kiss upon their palm, bringing it to hold his cheek.
‘It’s only inevitable, my dove, I will lay and dance and laugh with you until my hair is silver and my skin sagged, but death will come, you must promise to never change, never let the love in your heart fade, if not for me, then for yourself.’
‘My every breath is for you, my very being was woven from stardust and blood to lay at your side, through silver hair and saggy skin.’
Not a single night has passed without William wishing to the stars that he got to see what they looked like wrinkled with age, instead of charred to the bone from the flame of a senseless conquest.
Time had not been kind to the tomb, five hundred years of weathering and land conquests took their due. But the final resting place of his lover had never been a grand one, it was a grave dug by bloodied claws and a tombstone sculpted of vampiric strength, their name -beautiful name that it was- had once lay carved into the stone, scrawled through the cries and sobs of a man that had to bury his lover in a burial shroud of tattered and burnt fabric- all that he could salvage from the ruins of their home.
He let his eyes trace the glint and shine of the golden beams of his crown, the mosaic of impossibly perfect gemstone and winding engravings that it was. To the sight of anyone before it, soldier, prince or fellow monarch, it was an indomitable display of blood and power. But to William Solaire, and to William Solaire only, it was a tether to the life and love he once had, for inlaid deep inside the facets of his headpiece, right above his forehead, was a jagged, raw piece of rock, an eternal connection to his only love, even when continents apart.
The only other fragment of the site he dared to steal away was naught more than a pebble, set into a golden bracelet and smoothened with time. That sacred artefact currently lay nestled in his estate, in his private chambers deep in the heart of the manor, the manor that hopefully held his vampiric children; William only prayed they had chosen to spend the night at home instead of their own residences.
The green plains of his oasis away from life were his first acquisitions when he began to rise to power, and despite the innumerate offers, deals and contracts offered to him over the years, he refused to ever give it up. A minister had once even tried to steal it from him, but his house blade took care of that problem. This land was sacred, a mausoleum of the best of lives and best of humans, for five hundred years it has remained untouched, treaded upon solely by the Solaire Monarch and the forces of nature that had long overtaken the expanse.
William let his gaze languidly float across the trees and canopies, the burrows and bushes. He had once imagined composing a grand temple here, a tomb to outdo all others. One so grand that when human civilisation itself eroded, and souls of the new era came across it, they’d presume they found a shrine of the most revered of gods, which they would have . William found himself imagining pillars and statues, fountains brimming with liquid sunlight and altars of marble and crystal.
A young french man lay on his back basking in the rays of a summer solstice’s day, holding entracing crystalline structures up to the noon light, watching as the sun seeped through them, illuminating their every vein. He cared not for the grime coating his fingers and hands, he held perfection in his fingertips. Well, the second closest thing to perfection.
‘And what do you have over there?’, a voice like the sweetest birdsong shook him out of his reverie.
He tried scrambling to his side and hiding the crystals, but in his efforts only dropped more from his brimming pockets.
‘Nothing! I-uh-these are…’, May the gods save this lovestruck fool.
‘These are so beautiful…’, They leaned down to peer at them with their divinely more beautiful eyes, and William regretted not washing the stones off as he watched the tips of their fingertips grow smeared with dirt as they turned them about.
‘I- uhm- they… I spent all morning in the caves looking for them. They reminded me of your eyes- I wanted to surprise you with a gift but….’, He trailed off as a crimson fluster overtook him. Had he looked up, he’d have seen an equal fluster befall the cheeks and neck of his beloved.
‘I…’, words failing their sweet lips, they opted instead to kiss him on the cheek.
If the heavens were real, they were incomparable to this.
‘Would you like to see something I’ve been practicing?’, they asked, voice lilted demurely.
‘O-of course.’, And it was as if nothing else in the world existed.
William watched as they held a crystal and eased it into floating, letting it hang in the air between their stretched hands as if from invisible threads at their fingertips. Their fingers ebbed as magic danced across their skin, making its way down to the structure.
And as if by the will of the stars, it began to shift and change, the rigid and jagged edges of the frozen wonder turning fluid, twisting and sculpting in a mesmerising kaleidoscope of light and colour.
And now in their palm sat a crystalline sculpture. Not of any god nor monarch, but of William, on his side, propped up by his arms, the crystal even encapsulating the look of wonder his face currently held.
His light held it close to their heart.
‘I think this makes a gift I want to keep for all eternity.’
No, no temple he could ever erect would compare to the sacred perfection of his love.
William Solaire downed his reflected moon and tipped the contents of a crystalline cup over and into the grass below. He watched the tepid drink flow into the earth’s crevices and rested his head against the crumbling slab as he closed his crimson eyes, wishing it were the heat of a warm body instead of the splash of cold death.