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Deep within the inky galaxy sky’s. A place named the End. This was the place where people came and went. The beginning of new and end to old friendships. Everyone that came here left something behind. Something to be forgotten.
Then again in some cases, it was someone. That was something the leader of this land had noticed. The longer you spent in this place the more you forgot about your life outside. The world and adventures you used to know. It was a curse to remember as some said.
Was it ever that? A place to start again and have a new start. No it was not even to the ones trapped inside. It was the most dangerous prison to be in.
That's why no demon or angle ever lasted long. Their power had to have memory to use. Maybe that was why he was immune; he had grown up deep within the farthest cities. One that even immortality could never reach. He had given Unstable a city like his old home.
Spoke had the option to start again but he said no. That even as a creature born and able to remember in a place like this. He said that he wanted to remember so he could try and prove to everyone he had changed. That's what he was doing.
This had left the leader in the endless night alone staring at the potions made of Corus fruit. The pink liquid could make anyone forget in a moment.
He never drank, but the option was always there even if his stash of the magic was slowly running out. That was what led him to the small chamber filled with books and the only other person that was in the city. An angel with nothing left to lose.
Egg was slumped over the pages again. Ink smeared over the pale skin as he dreamt. Small glass shards littered the ground around the library legs.
His dull colorless wings laid limp against the tense muscle. The halo that followed behind was nowhere to be seen.
Egg had been writing everything any one had lost in the aisle. He kept records and notes on the stories as well. The hope that someone would come back to get the thing they forgot. Yet no one ever came.
“Egg.” Minute spoke softly, his voice tender. He swept the scattered papers up into a stack. Each page had different smudges of the ink, but some had stains of salt.
The yellow paper under the angel's hand. The fingers curl around the edge, leaving small trickles of the iron red blood on the table. Only a couple words laced the page.
Wemmbu-..... Nothing
Minutes face twisted up as his eyebrows furred. Everyone forgot something…Oh, OH shit. He stared straight at the angel. The small downy feathers and tufts of fluff that clung to the wings and behind the ears. Egg was so young, probably not even a millennia old yet.
The boy who had seen more than any one would ever become the one weakness to the unkillable player.
To Wemmbu.
The same man he jumped in front of an arrow for, the reason he was stuck here in the first place.
It wasn't that Minute resented him, but he had kinda left Egg here to the curse of the End. Sure the demon probably didn't even realize he had forgotten Egg. Even then if he still cared for the boy then, he would figure a way to get Egg back to the overworld. Angels were not built of the air or condition of the end.
Wemmbu did visit every now and again..yet each time he left he was longer and longer without seeing Egg. It was like what he said before. The longer you go outside the end without the thing you lost the more you would forget what it was.
Minutes white eyes looked down at Egg once more. The amount of positions that ran through the small body wasn't good. Not good at all, why did he have to go and try to pretend to be fine. He was worse than Spoke.
Dipping back outside the cold air. His arms prickled as a chill ran down his spine. No one deserved to be lost, let alone someone that was meant to be with people…. His flock.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Egg stared slippingly through his half lidded eyes at the mirror in the base. His body was thin as the sheaths of muscle clung to the fragile bone. He could be snapped in half if you tried. He didn't mean to stop eating, it was just he never felt hungry with the potions running through his system. His stomach never growled and he felt fine, even if he passed out when Minute wasn't around.
His wings had hung low for months, he had lost the strength to lift them up. The nerves that coursed through them had all but gone quiet. It was a perk to cutting the skin until it bled and painted his feather in red. He wasn't going to fly again. It was no use without him here.
The man with silky lilac hair and dark piercing amber eyes that could break a soul in two. The same eyes that held him as he sob himself to sleep. Yet he couldn't remember the name of this hero. Yet he could recall the wish of a leather tail as it curled around his waist, or the hard grip that said mine without words.
He didn't know who this was but if he couldn't remember this guy then he was important. And if he was then why hadn't he come to visit.
The angel shrugged as he slowly began to cut at the wings again, maybe just maybe if he could feel he could stitch the pieces of his mind back together. Glass turned red as droplets landed on the ground. Feather matted with the whimpers and hisses as he slowly hit the pustine bone beneath the muscle and tissues. The numb feeling fleeting as it was replaced with a small burn.
Blood stained his hands as he worked to reclaim the burning sting. The memories were fleeting as he recalled a sweet song he had sung to the demon.
There was a time he had known, yet it never came, the scolding that Minute would give if he ever saw it. He once knew the man….or did he, was it all a dream, the end had chewed up and spat at him.
‘I got a fear Oh, in my blood’
Egg stared down at the valley below as his friend slaughtered the hunters that had been chasing them all the way to the place behind the end of the world.
The purple demon had come back with victory and hope as he pulled the smaller up into his arms. His eyes tired as he nuzzled close. Breathing in the scent of cherry wood and ink. The smell that faded as time ticked to cold.
‘He was carried up into the clouds, high above
Ooh, if you've bled, I bleed the same,’
The demon gave a crooked smile as he lifted the angel into the sky. Wind poured through feathers and fabric as the duo soared above the rest. Each breathing in the soothing air. The hope and light of sunset. Had painted the sky in the colors. Rose pinks the color of blush. Emerald orange the shade of family to the midnight prays to the kinds below. That was their melody
‘Ooh, if you're scared, I'm on my way,’
A bright ship sails across the endless sea. Jokes passed around like beer. The sea held the secret that was held beneath the evergreen beacon.
“Did you run away?”
Ages ago in a palace only one had ever known. The home of pain and rain. The echoes of hurt poncing up and down that empty skull. Rule beaten in the skin that tore away to light and feather. The place he ran away to see a hope of light and love.
To find a flock to make his own in the new world, he had only dreamed of the place that he never wanted or knew. Back in his life before he rose to a palace many years ago.
‘Did you run away? I don't need to know, But if you ran away’
A name to a face he never knew, the freckled and scared face. The one that could and would lead armies. The face of a man that had left him behind for the pursuit of godhood.
One that could never be killed
The man that had defeated the immortal demon.
The same man that had held the broken together like a spout of water that dripped down through the unfixed cracks. It was his lament that he held the new god to get to where he was.
He was the weakness, but now he was a poisoned limb.
One cut off, one sent to free the shackles of man.
‘If you ran away, come back home’
Just come home….
Tears slipped down his face, tracing the lines of old. As the glass slipped free. Crashing out the shard below. Blood had puddled on the ground. He stared at the emptiness as the memories faded leaving the hollow faded feeling within his heart. He was a poisoned limb one that had been cut off.
“Just come home.”he choked. Dark spots dancing in his vision as he collapsed. Arms clutching a chunk of rock. One that had been a part of a maze. The same one his flock had on him.
The angel fell into the deep of his mind. It had gone quiet as darkness poured over his body drowning him in the tales of old.
The dances of two flock that never said the words outloud. Always turning and twisting around. Yet none of the two said a world, the circle repeating over and over. A distant melody, the forbidden followed.
An angel and a demon were never meant to be.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
The world blurred together and a wetness washed up the side of his face. Cleaning up the blood that smeared on the pale skin. The buzz or world crashed together in a vomit of existence.
A face faded in, amber eyes that rounded at the side. Freckles that danced across the skin in patterns like the sky.
“Wem..mbu?”he squeaked, voice cracking and horse.
Standing up tall, a bushy grey beard and tusks poking out from underneath. The man stood in blue and yellow robes. Twin cream colored llamas sauntered beside their master.
Eggs grounded sitting up as th eman held out his hand. The tan skin is covered in a leather glove. “Not Wemmbu, but the name is Mog Swamp.”
He paused, staring up at the other. He felt warm to warm, his clothes sticking in odd angles as he felt it. The warmth of the sun! Wait, sun?
He spun his head around. He was on a flat plain with towers rising up in the distance. He wasn't in the end anymore.
He was afraid.
He was Alone.
His mind searched for a name he didn't know
Where was his mate?