Work Text:
Tenna doesn't lose Spamton to the war, doesn't find his broken, bloodied body among the dead-doesn't find him among the mages that seal the monsters away.
One day he was gone.
No goodbye, no explanation, no warning.
An aching hollow replaces where warmth should be. With a dimpled smile, a hand in his own, and maybe in the morningsome…
Hah-
Memories, how fretfully painful.
The day flickers by in fuchsia red, Sunrise fades to shadow and shade. The barrier pulses. Once. Twice.
Tenna does not break. Not then
He clutches the wooden box close, the corners jutting into his ribs. The box weighs like a corpse, the bones a stack of letters. Will they still smell like cypress? With dull pressed flowers; Roses for I love you, Woodbine for affection, Rosemary for remembrance-?
(Will he remember the tenor of his voice in slanted lines? The curve of his grin? The glimmer in his eyes?)
Darkness grows from outside in; souls heavier then stones.
The monsters weep.
Tenna does not.
Spamton knows this true: The humans will not stop, until every monster is wiped from the earth.
They'll be a footnote in history. Or maybe nothing at all. Either way, they will be called monsters, and because they weremonsters, they were dangerous. We gave them a chance, but-
It always ends up this way doesn't it?
Genocide justified by superiority.
The dim light of dawn glides it's way across his desk, kicking up dust. Ink dries, and the wax seal bleeds crimson. It's unnecessarily fancy. And he hasn't used his family crest for years. But, Tenna will enjoy it nonetheless.
If only for a moment.
He places the envelope in the box, the latch rusted and flaky. The wood to weary, it's scrapes and scars to deep-but Tenna will keep it. Will carry it, for the rest of his life and after.
It's cruel-Spamton knows, but he has always been selfish.
The memory itself is wispy, clouded at the edges. Spamton at the front door. Saying somethings isn't he? Lips moving so gently in morning light. I'll be back-I'll be back-I'll-He tries to grasp at the scene, lunge forward and keep the memory still. Please-But it always ends the same. The scent of apples-citrus sweet, and Spamton's featherlight lute twinkling in his departure.
It's sound burns to the core,strings phantom touched.
He'll never hear it again.
Never see him again-
Unless.
…
All he needs is a human soul to claw the world asunder, onto savage plain-to clear the slate; find the bruised blue of his beloved. Once their together, what could stop them?
The fantasy is flawed. Tenna glares at the box, clenched between his claws. He wants to watch it burn, fire-licking flames incinerating the remains of reality; the rose tinted beautiful reality, where he would wake up, and this would all be over. And maybe, if he sits close enough-
The flames will take him away too.
He doesn't pack, there's no need. He doesn't plan on returning. There will be ash and dust f he looks back; the future kissing scars along his neck. Your doing this to save him.
The war will come. He is not enough to stop it. It would take a miracle , and a miracle he would find-
A miracle, after all, is just a fancy word for back-end deal.
I'll skip the pleasantries, you must be furious,or will be, by the time you read this-if you read this.
Long story short; I am dead. Of course , it's not because of you-not really. Vindictive spirits from the past caught up to me. Expelling them , unfortunately isn't an option, and I can't bear to see you hurt.
You are everything to me, I am sorry I never properly told you. Oafishly, I though we had all the time in the world. Ugly truths are had to swallow, and the timing couldn't be worse-with this war.
Tenna, if you could bring yourself to follow a dead mans wish; please live for me.
Your beloved, Spamton G. Spamton
PS: (At least we got to skip out on the funereal expenses right? Me and death have never seen eye to eye, and I wouldn't pay a penny to that two-bit swindler. )
"Oh-spammy-I-"
This isn't right, none of this is right-but it's all he has. All he ever will have. I am dead.
(Tenna doesn't lose Spamton to the war, doesn't find his broken, bloodied body among the dead-doesn't find him among the mages that seal the monsters away- )
Dead because of who? Dead because he wanted to-
What? Protect him.
He weeps.