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When he had laid eyes upon the king, he instantly felt Yellow. Yellow was all he could see, feel, smell, taste, and hear. But that Yellow was also Everything Else. Everything that the Yellow knew, D3rlord3 knew as well. Filling his mind until it threatened to burst, flooding him with knowledge. It hurt like a thousand knives. Tore him apart like he was a little red tissue paper. And it had felt awful. The King did not make any attempt to stop him when he ran, and even when he wrote that book to warn Avery.
D3rlord3 collapsed to his knees as he slammed the wooden chest shut, his own chest heaving as he caught his breath. His head spun with whispers, some of which were of his own voice this time around. They spoke to him about the things he now knew, and the more he recognized what they were saying, the more those whispers became his own thoughts. It felt like he'd been strewn across the floor in a thousand tiny pieces, and he was picking them up one by one and finding where they belonged. They whispered the past, future and present to him, the texture of His robes, a reminder of His face. He remembered, and remembered. And remembered.
The more he found, the harder it was to hold onto them, and the more his head hurt. He squeezed his eyes shut, setting his head on the edge of the chest as he gathered his thoughts as they kept spilling out of his grasp. The strangest thing of all, was the presence of the One in Yellow. He did not do anything to help D3rlord3, or to hinder him, simply watching, as if holding His breath. D3rlord3 didn't bring his attention to Him, although he wanted to. He simply continued to put himself together. There was some sort of instinctual fear that pulled at him, feeling that Yellow presence in the back of his mind. Something that kept his mind away even when the rest of him desperately wanted to take a look.
It felt as if he was chasing each whisper around in his mind, until he could recognize it as either his own voice, or one of the King's runaway whispers. Regardless, with each piece he put back, the easier it became. To find the pieces. To place them. Although, his body gasped for breath, and the pain stabbed at him from all angles. The shards of his own mind cut him up as he gathered them in his palms. His body, beginning to fall asleep, nearly slipped off the chest, many of the pieces slipping from his grasp once more. He stood up, his body aching in protest as he shuffled to the stairs, as he began putting himself together again.
It was a battle, juggling the tasks of keeping his mind quiet and his body awake. He took deep breaths, making his way to the top of the stairs as yellow danced in his vision like pairings on a dance floor, or like flames, licking up the walls and around his feet as if smoke. It glittered and sparkled, nearly distracting him as he observed the mesmerizing patterns. It was strange, those whisps of Yellow were the only sort of influence he could feel from Him. He wondered why it was that He was now leaving him be. He blinked himself back to reality, however, and continued to trudge along the familiar path to his house.
He tried to keep his thoughts from wandering off to everything else that existed within his world. There were many things that constantly begged for his attention. The structures he missed, the ores under his feet, the mobs that wandered nearby. He limited himself to the path around him, only letting the whispers of knowledge tell him of what he already saw in great detail. He knew everything he saw, before and after he'd seen it, as if there were a hundred afterimages in his vision, distinct and discernible from what he really saw.
But he was getting distracted from the task at hand again. This time, it felt more like solving a complicated multi-step puzzle. He was getting closer to understanding it, he was sure. Or maybe, it was an escape room? No, no, he shouldn't imagine it as anything, that just makes it harder to solve. Regardless, he could begin to feel his progress. It was easier to think, although staying awake was still a difficult process due to his fatigue. In fact ... He felt almost ... detached. From his body. He closed his eyes, and shook his head, tapping on his helmet to make the sound bring his senses back. It halted his mental progress once more, but he needed to stay awake and aware of his own body.
He could feel His presence, His gaze watching him intensely. Waiting with bated breath. He had said nothing, whispered nothing into the knight's ears. But D3rlord3 was grateful for the room to think. He flipped switches on a complicated control system, trying to turn it on. Trying to save it. he felt as though he ran between many sections, a large maze of control towers that needed to be plugged in just the right way. His perception of what he was doing shifted and twisted as he did it, but his goal remained on track.
He made it to his house. The carpet was Yellow. He let his exhausted body slump to his knees, observing the gold and red of his armor and cape almost spilling onto the yellow as if it belonged there. He closed his eyes, tapping his helmet again to keep himself awake. He was so close. He could feel it, almost taste it. It was Red. Like his blood, like rubies, like a rose. No, focus. He needs to focus. He felt as though he was perched upon a stool, a small child reaching up to grab something from a high shelf. He couldn't quite reach. He needed to reach. To find a foothold, or a handhold. It almost felt as if he had found one, just within reach of his fingertips. He gripped onto it as hard as he could, nearly slipping off. But his focus slipped. He caught himself by tapping his helmet again, opening his eyes.
He tried again, managing to get a grip on that nearly comprehensible something. He could almost feel what it was that he was doing, and he needed to keep going. He was one push away from it. It took an incredible amount of focus, grabbing onto that. Keeping hold of it, keeping himself awake. He sat on the yellow carpet, the color the brightest thing he could see. Slowly, oh so very slowly, he pulled himself up. Halfway. He could begin to see things, he was almost free. He knocked on his helmet again. Awake. Stay awake.
And so this repeated, for what may have been hours. The metaphor changed, although much slower, as he got closer and closer to what he could feel, and he could almost see. The King in Yellow waited, watched.
And finally, D3rlord3 pulled himself through. He could think. He could process that which The King in Yellow had shown him. He saw Avery, the many paths he could take. The many paths he himself could have taken, all leading to The King in Yellow. He could feel the King's presence behind him now, leaning down, over him. He turned his head to stare back at Him. There was no onslaught of pain and terrible images, there was only understanding. The King was impossible to read, His own thoughts locked behind Himself. But D3rlord3 also found the King slipping out of his own mind slowly, as if changing from a backseat driver to merely a passenger. He sat up, turning himself slightly, so he'd get a better view of the figure before him.
They waited, watching each other for a long, drawn-out moment. The King in Yellow tilted His head at him, earning a soft blink. He knelt down next to D3rlord3, studying his expression closely. Carefully, The King in Yellow lifted its mask off its face. And D3rlord3 could suddenly understand Him.
He was curious.
He was fascinated.
D3rlord3 made out several more emotions that he could not put words to, but understood their meaning to Him. But the extra information made him just a little bit more tired, and his eyelids began to struggle to stay open. The King in Yellow placed His mask back on His face, and tapped the other's helmet much like D3rlord3 had.
It is not over yet, My Lord.
Oh? The nickname settled on his mind like a blanket, causing him to widen his eyes slightly. Were there more mental puzzles to solve? He tilted his head. There was no fear in his mind of The King in Yellow, not anymore. While He was the one thing he could not predict in this moment, His posture and voice were filled with a softness he couldn't have ever comprehended beforehand.
You may sleep now, if you must. But I will be there.
Ah, that's right. He had almost forgotten about the fatigue. His arms were trembling, struggling to keep him upright. But now that he did not need to keep track of his thinking, he could move. He shuffled to the wall, leaning against it, and while it may not have been comfortable---he slipped easily into sleep.
For a moment, he was nothing. Floating as a consciousness in nothing. But there was Something. Right? Where was He? D3rlord3 was in a ballroom. It was Red. Ruby, Wine, Crimson, Blood, Scarlet, Merlot, Garnet, Cherry. It filled his eyes and his nose and ears and was draped across him like fabric. He didn't feel Yellow, as he did when he first laid eyes upon the King. He felt as Red as the room. But perhaps it was more than just Red. It was him. His own.
The dance began, and he found himself wandering through the crowd aimlessly. It was all red, it was all him. It was all perfect. But he had nobody to dance with. He found the reds swimming in his vision, twirling prettily, but with no meaning. There were no faces, nothing to recognize. The dresses and suits and robes that those dancing wore were fancy, but were not trimmed with any other color. No black. No gold. No white. Only Red.
Until that is, a single spot of yellow caught his eye. Dipping between the crowd, an incredibly small presence. He knew who it was immediately. The King in Yellow. It was Him. He was looking for him, but evidently could not pick him out in the crowd. D3rlord3 watched him quietly, as He was pulled through the dance by figures, feeling odd and out of place. One pulled Him into a dance, passing by D3rlord3 in a twirling motion. Their eyes met briefly, and then The King in Yellow was spun once more, and He seemed to lose sight of him, turning His head to find another glimpse of him.
The King broke off from the dance, slipping between the crowd once more, chasing after him. And every time that He found him, he would slip back into the crowd, out of His sight. He wasn't sure if he wanted to face The King in Yellow. While he no longer feared Him, his opinion on Him was... still being determined. He wasn't sure whether to reciprocate the curiosity, or loathe Him for making him this way. He was conflicted, to put it into simpler terms. The King was too foreign still.
But perhaps, if he got closer. If he figured out what His motives were, the reason behind His fascination. It wasn't something that the knowledge he had received could explain. Perhaps it was, that The King did not understand Himself, and so when He bestowed His knowledge onto D3rlord3, there was nothing there to give him. But that, he decided, was merely conjecture. He would have to find out for himself. So finally, he decided to step forward and face The King.
The King paused when D3rlord3 stepped out of the crowd, His many robes fluttering to a halt as He stilled. For a moment, they only stared, watching each other carefully. Until, eventually, The King offered his hand to D3rlord3, a request to dance. Hesitantly, he accepted, placing his palm in His. And then the dance began.
It wasn't like any dance D3rlord3 had seen in movies, or even learned how to. It was a little bit dizzying, as they spun around each other. The King in Yellow lead the dance elegantly, teaching him the steps as they went. The rest of the ballroom blurred in his vision as they spun, leaving the King's yellow robes and pale mask the only thing he focused on. His hands felt solid, although they didn't feel human. He lost track of how long he danced with Him, studying the way He moved, how He looked at him.
"You learn fast, My Lord." He spoke with a voice almost Human.
"You teach well, My King." D3rlord3 replied softly, earning a hum from the other.
"I have never seen so much Red. Is the Red yours?" The King slowed their dance to a waltz.
"It seems so." He replied honestly. He wasn't sure yet, but all signs pointed to yes.
It went quiet for a moment as D3rlord3 continued to study The King. He, in turn, seemed to almost squirm with excitement, earning a headtilt from D3rlord3.
"Something the matter, My King?"
"No, no. Quite the contrary..." He chuckled, adding a little hum at the end as He thought. "I am just enthralled by the way I am the complete center of your attention. Even when we first met, and you were more acutely aware of All of me, you still thought about Avery, and began to recollect yourself. But now, you look at me, and think of Me Only. It is an Honor." He cooed, holding him closer.
"You're the only thing to look at that isn't Me. But I am curious, regardless."
"You still hold all the same curiosity as you did when mortal. It is impressive how little you have changed."
"I have changed?"
"Imperceptibly so. You can comprehend me. All of me. You can see me in this dream, and the dream does not twist and contort into anything other."
"I still feel the same."
"Perhaps right now you do. Your dream is embedded in memories of what you felt as human. It feels real, does it not?"
"It does. More real than any lucid dream I've had before."
"When you wake up, it will feel like you would when waking up from said lucid dream. You will feel more real. Know more. Remember what it's like to be awake. Or, for you, know what it's like to be awake, for the first time."
"Are you also dreaming?"
"No. I take the shape that your dream allows me too. A glimpse into what it feels to have been mortal. It's incredibly intriguing."
"Is it something you did not know?"
"There is a difference between knowing, and knowing, my dear Lord. Experience holds more weight than flickers of what you've heard or been told. Your knowledge of the world through my eyes was much like mine through yours before I came into this dream, fickle, and without substance. But once you know, for yourself, it is an entirely different feeling. The feeling is not something I can give to you directly, unfortunate as it is, but it is something you can still get."
D3rlord3 hummed in acknowledgement. "You seem to like talking."
"Perhaps, but I can't help myself, when your attention is on me."
"I like your voice."
He seems to become giddy at that. "I'm flattered, but just wait until you hear my real voice." A strange purr escaped His throat, as He wraps himself tighter around him, slowing their waltz even further.
D3rlord3 wanted to melt into His touch, close his eyes and let his senses be filled with yellow again, but he continued to look up at The King, worried that intimacy like that was too soon. The King in Yellow also seemed to hesitate any further contact, but found more topics to prattle on about aimlessly.
"I've never seen anyone put themselves together such as you have, My Lord. You're smart, incredibly so, solving my puzzles and laying out traps as you do. You're the only one whose deep curiosity was balanced with such a strong will. I had thought, for a moment, that you had been foolish to find me, to look upon me and see all that I was. But then you had the strength to rebuild yourself once more."
The praise went on for a while, His voice getting quiet and soft, and the waltz continuing, almost unending.
"Your unwavering gaze leaves me breathless, those eyes of yours never missing a detail...." His voice began to drift through his mind, only half-registering as he slipped deeper into sleep. He wanted to continue listening to Him, but it felt hazy, like the dreams he had when mortal. The King remained with him the whole time, whispering sweet nothings to him as the dream went on.
Gentle arms carried him off, where it was much more quiet, and D3rlord3 began to relive his memories in broken pieces and fragments, as is normal for a dream. All the scenarios he had imagined while putting himself together looped oddly, falling from one to the next as he did when he had been experiencing it---only now it was as if he was watching from the backseat.
A soft hum, a familiar tune, is what pulled him back into a more shallow sleep, where he found himself sitting on a bench in an empty Yellow church. It had faded depictions of Him on the walls, soft yellow seating. But there was a Red carpet leading to the podium, where Red roses sat, illuminated by the light of the stained glass behind it. The humming continued still, encouraging him to finally step into wakefulness. It was a melodic cacophony of many voices, a choir singing a layered tune.
The King had been right, about what he would see when he woke up. The feeling of being mortal was akin to dreaming, and now he was finally awake. He was still in the body of a mortal, partially to his relief, but he could now begin to make sense of what was slipping through his mind like water. The information no longer crashed against his mind like the pressure of the deep, instead being a river, him the riverbed. It still shaped him, but more gently, now, as he felt it flow past. He knew that Avery would arrive soon, and what Avery could do. What he might do. But not what he Would do.
He knew Avery couldn't put himself together like he did, but also knew that him stumbling upon The King in Yellow was incredibly likely. Perhaps he had to convince the King to be lenient on him, so his mind may survive what he witnesses beyond the gates, if he makes the wrong choices.
Either way, he needed to make his way back to Him. Opening his eyes, he carefully stretched his aching body, making himself aware of his surroundings. One thing of note, was that The King had never left this space. He waited outside for him quietly. That was definitely convenient. D3rlord3 pushed the door open, walking out to greet Him.
You are awake, My Lord.
D3rlord3 nodded. He was right, His voice was much more in the waking world. Melodic and layered. It was the same as the humming, it must have been His voice who woke him up. And it was Him that D3rlord3 found himself completely absorbed in perceiving once more. The King shuffled in delight, leaning closer to wrap His yellow robes around him, filling his senses with Yellow. It was much nicer than it had been the first time, warm and comforting in a way he couldn't put to words. And it was also nicer than being draped in his own Reds, although that was pleasant, too.
The King in Yellow ran His appendages through the red of his helmet's plume, and across the fabric of his red cape. It was very nice, to be the only thing the King saw. He figured that this was the feeling He had when gazed upon in a similar manner. And the King spoke up once more.
I want to drown in your Reds, My Lord, My Knight......
D3rlord3 smiled. "I could say the same for your Yellows, My King."
The reciprocation was enough for Him to purr once more. It was like laughter of bells, the legato of a flute, and the rapid flipping of paper pages all at once. D3rlord3 loved the sound, he wanted to reciprocate the joyous sound in return, but all he could do was hum softly.
Tell me, My Knight, will you stay in my court with me, or will you wander away from me? Does your thirst of understanding outweigh your curiosity of me?
His mask hovered inches away from his helm, limbs draped over his shoulders loosely as the fabrics swallowed up the lower half of his body.
"I know I cannot stop myself from wandering... but perhaps I may return to you at the end of each small journey, and stay for a while. You fascinate me just as much as all else, and I find your presence pleasantly familiar, so it would be no question I shall seek you out."
That answer seemed to please Him, as He made another joyous purr. It was then that he noticed, The King did not have any presence within his own mind anymore. Perhaps it is like Him with His mask, that while he had his helm, he had mental walls up that would not let Him in. He tilted his head, his hands gliding to his helm, contemplating. The King tilted His head, waiting to see what he would do.
D3rlord3 hooked his thumbs underneath his helmet, sliding it off his head. His red hair spilled down his shoulders and over his face, the curly locks almost unkempt. As he had thought would happen, he felt His presence in his mind once again. A gentle hand brushed some of that Red, Red hair out of his face, a gesture D3rlord3 found nice.
Your eyes are golden. He almost whispered it, the awe in His voice clear.
Before D3rlord3 knew it, The King had removed His mask, too. And so now, he was looking at Him, and He was looking back. There was a tender hesitation that the King held, His hands hovering near his face. He wanted to kiss him. He smiled, leaning closer to His face. Permission was granted, and almost immediately, His face was pressed against D3rlord3's softly, and he reciprocated. His lips felt Yellow, and D3rlord3's were Red. He rested one of his armored hands on His chest, the texture soft and flowing, but Him.
He pressed Himself closer to him, wrapping His robes fully around him. The King pulled him in, and D3rlord3 felt suspended in the Yellow, almost as if floating. He was all around him, as the kiss shifted from His lips, to His cheek, and then His neck. He purred that lovely, strange purr, making him wish even more he could reply the same. With the Helmet removed, He could understand this desire, carefully showing him how. It wasn't a physical noise, but one originating from something akin to his soul. He purred back, finally, his own sound one of wind chimes, steam released from an engine, and ocean waves. Different, but melodic in its own way.
He kissed him back, on his nose, and his jaw, and his hands. He was in awe of him, and vice versa. A mutual fascination, intrigue, fondness even. But His fondness was greater than D3rlord3's, and D3rlord3's Fascination rivaled His.
Eventually, the kissing slowed, and they remained still, their faces touching still. D3rlord3 closed his eyes, taking in the feeling of Yellow all around him for a little bit longer. His hair spilled around His shoulders too, now, leaving both their faces engulfed in Red as the rest of them was in the Yellow. The King loved it, carding His fingers through it over and over again, a loving motion.
As much as the both of them had wanted to stay like that forever, they felt themselves slipping into each other slowly. While that wasn't an entirely bad thing, it would be difficult to untangle from each other, and D3rlord3 began to be restless. So He let him go, gently placing that helmet back on his head. He found himself standing outside of his house once more, head tilted at Him as He places His own mask back on as well. They stay there for a moment, before the King does one more thing. He takes a piece of His robes, draping it on top of his Red cape. A lovely little decoration. D3rlord3 smiled, deciding he would find a gift for Him in return.
The King returned to His throne, allowing him to wander. He would, but in a moment. He stepped inside, finding some shears. Taking a lock of his hair, he cut it, and began to twist it into thread. Then, he looped it into itself, weaving it into the shape of a rose. Satisfied with this, he made sure no ends could unfurl, and began his trek back down, to the Yellow gates, to give his gift to Him.
He turned left, trekking through those gates a second time, finding The King on His throne, head tilted to the side. D3rlord3 held out the small gift in his open palm, and He leaned down to take it. He purred, and slid a finger across his helmet in an affectionate manner. Finally, he pinned the tiny Red flower to His robes, as Red embroidery wove its way onto the edges of parts of His cloak. D3rlord3 purred back, nodding, and made a small wave as he finally set out to wander.
The King watched him as he left, patiently waiting for his return.