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For the first time ever, Guy Crimson is grateful that Raphael tends to be more than a little scatterbrained. It means that when they leave Walpurgis early and without their Demon Lord ring, Guy has to chase after them, which means he's there when they all but fall out of the sky, which means he's able to scoop them up and hurry back to the ice palace before something can go horribly wrong.
Of course, Guy is certain something is already going horribly wrong, but at least he can keep it from getting worse.
"You still with me, Raphael?" Guy asks as he hurried through frozen hallways, for once dropping the diminutive nickname. Raphael has been silent since the argument back on that slab of ice—where Guy had demanded Raphael return home, where Raphael had snapped that they were fine—and with how still they are, that's not very reassuring.
It's even less assuring how they don't answer right away. Finally spotting the door to his bedroom, Guy risks a glance down to his cargo, and meets mismatched eyes. He doesn't falter, but it's a near thing.
"Angel?" He hazards, forcing his door open. Inside isn't much warmer than the rest of the palace, a fact that never bothered Guy before. Now, charting unknown territory, he wished it wasn't so. "Come on, I need some kind of response."
A hand curls against Guy's chest. It's not a vocal cue, but it's a response all the same, and that weird feeling in Guy's stomach eases. He breathes a sigh out his nose, gently setting Raphael down on the bed.
"Okay. That's good," he mutters, mostly to himself. Guy pulls the corner of his blanket off the bed and begins wrapping Raphael in it—admittedly, he's not sure what it will accomplish, but it lets him feel like he's doing something, anything. Guy glances at Raphael again, and again meets both red and gold, half lidded though they are.
…Red is Guy's color. Since the dawn of time, when Veldanava willed the Original Angels into existence and unknowingly created demons to mirror them, red has belonged to him, the Primordial Rouge. And, he'd be the first to admit, he likes to mark what was his with red: Velzard had red paint for her nails, and matching earrings she wore on rare occasions; Mizeri and Raine wore red dresses; Rudra, at one point, wore a crimson bracelet (friendship bracelets, he had said, and refused to let Guy take his off). The Demon Lords too, while not technically Guy's, worked under his command, and all held ruby rings that allowed them to communicate with one another.
But this—something isn't right about this. The red that Raphael now bears seems more like a warning than anything else, and Guy can feel his skills start to stir at the perceived threat. He roughly pushes them down and asks, "Can you tell me what's happening?"
Raphael takes a moment to blink, a slow thing that leaves their eyes closed for just a moment too long. Before Guy can speak again, they peel their eyes back open, and they are both gold. Raphael smiles, "I don't think you'll like the answer."
"I'm not like anything about this already. Spill." Guy tugs another blanket closer and around Raphael's shoulder. They offer no complaint.
In fact, they don't offer much of anything. Their smile twitches a little, as if it can't choose between growing or dropping entirely, and then Raphael tilts forward and back into Guy's arms. He catches them, of course, but his breath hitches in surprise.
And then Raphael answers with a question: "If I tell you, will you promise to be quiet? I… really need some quiet right now."
A migraine, then? It seems… a bit pedestrian for all these dramatics, but what does Guy know? He's never had to help anyone with a migraine before, and he usually just throws Pain Nullification at headaches.
…Which—he notes—Raphael is not doing. And Guy knows they have the skill, has seen them take a Drago Nova full on and shake it off with a flare of magicules. So why-?
"Fine," Guy replies. He shifts, trying to find a position more comfortable for both him and Raphael, and adds, "Tell me what's happening, and you'll have earned half an hour of my silence."
Raphael hums, barely audible, but unmistakably amused, and Guy counts it as a win. Then Raphael's eyes slide back open, mismatched once more and seeming to shift between red, gold, and the mirage of colors that is Appraisal. Guy's blood freezes along with their words, "I'm dying, Guy."
For the long second that follows, no one moves.
Well, Raphael already wasn't moving that much, and Guy's stillness is more of a conscious effort than shock, and-
In hindsight, Guy wonders if he should've seen it coming. Veldanava was killed by humans, after all, and though whether or not he will reincarnate is up in the air following the birth of Milim, Guy is pretty sure he'll come back, if Dino's shiftiness about the topic is anything to go by. And True Dragons as a whole, like Guy and his brethren, can be reborn—same soul, same strength, same appearance, but different memories and personalities. If Raphael is dying, while the how remains in question, the matter becomes: can Raphael's species, whatever they are, reincarnate?
Unless they are truly that afraid of death, then the implications seem to be a resounding no.
Which, again, in hindsight, he should've seen coming. Raphael was not of this world, they themself had admitted, and Veldanava was carefree with the knowledge that Raphael was no creation of his, merely a being of wisdom who broke through his front door. Raphael had abilities that not even Velzard—who had assisted her elder brother with the creation of this world—could understand. What if those abilities interfered with reincarnation because they weighed down their soul? What if, because Raphael was not one of Veldenava's creations, rebirth was completely off the table to them? What if the reason Raphael never allowed anyone to get to know them personally was because they were soon for this world?
Instead of wallowing in questions, Guy asks them aloud: "You won't come back, will you?"
"What happened to half an hour of silence?" They snip back. Raphael turns their face into Guy's neck, breath non-existent, which wouldn't be that worrying when one looks at the fact beings like Valentine don't breathe at all, if Guy hadn't known Raphael to love to mimic human actions and be constantly doing useless things like breathing and blinking and eating. Regardless of their non-existent breath, Raphael's words are muttered against Guy's skin, "And… no. Not as my soul is now."
It was an odd answer, but not an unexpected one. If even souls born on the Cardinal World came back differently, changed, then why would it be any different for Raphael? Especially if Raphael were to return back to their own world (They surely had a world of their own, Guy can remember Velzard and Veldanava arguing. What else could explain why they matched no species Veldanava made? Why they knew of the odd satellite that floated outside the Star Palace? Why they talked about their home as a place that was long gone and unreachable? They must have come from another world, another universe.), then the trip back and forth through death would likely tax their soul quite a bit.
In short, Guy saw two possibilities before them—
One: Raphael does not return at all. Their soul returns to whatever world or universe they originated from, with no memories of this one. They would have no reason to come back. They could live their life on the world they created, as the should have from the start.
Two: Raphael reincarnates on this world, but because they are not Veldanava's creation, their soul is not fully intact or stable. A being of chaos, something akin to when Milim's little beast became the Chaos Dragon. Death would be a mercy.
Which means, no matter the option... Raphael was at their end, and they would not be coming back.
Something sharp clenches in Guy's chest, just as his eyes warmed. It was like nothing he felt before, and it confused him. His mouth twisted into a frown as he blinked quickly—
Tears. There were tears falling from Guy's eyes. He lets out a shaky breath, both from surprise and by nature of crying. The tears—which should've been impossible for a demon who did not experience the emotions that triggered them—fall one after another, landing gently atop Raphael's head. More follow, until there's a stream of misery streaking down Guy's face.
Another shaky breath, and then Guy presses his face against Raphael's head. It's not stopping the tears, but at least it's hiding them from anyone who might walk in. He feels eyelashes brush against his skin, meanwhile, and what follows is a mournful, "Oh, Guy…"
"Half hour of silence starts now," he croaks in quick response, hugging Raphael tighter. A moment of stillness and silence follows before one of Raphael's arms come to wrap around Guy's neck, pulling him into an awkward hug.
A goodbye.
A dozen more questions flooded Guy's mind, demanding to be answered. Why was Raphael dying now? How was Raphael dying at all? Why didn't they tell anyone? Why did they try to die in the snow like some kind of sad beast? What can Guy do to convince them to stay? But, he knew, it would be a waste to voice any of this, just as it would only cause suffering in Raphael's final moments to try and call for Velzard and her ability to stop the flow of magicules, or for Milim and Ramiris, who would undeniably panic.
So, Guy tried to focus on something else. Anything else than the blue sweat at Raphael's temples, or their expression of pain, or the way their hair began to clump together. He chose his own pain, the one that had gathered heavily in his chest, spilling up into tears and down into nausea.
As it is commonly accepted, demons didn't have hearts, or emotions, or anything silly like that. They were beings created of magicules, who thrived on death and despair. Of course they didn't have such feelings like grief, sadness, or love. Demons—from the highest amongst them to the scrawniest—existed only for a drive of power.
And yet, here Guy was, experiencing… what? Terror? Is that why his hands were shaking, clinging to Raphael as they were? Or was it despair that sent him tumbling into childish tears? Maybe it was simply the realization that Guy cared at all, and the subsequent realization that he was losing the thing he cared about.
Because, yes, Guy could admit in this moment, he did care. Many called him selfish and vain, including himself, because it was true. But what was also true was that Guy did everything to stop Milim from getting hurt as he and Ramiris and Raphael tried to soothe her; that he raged when Rudra was pulled away by duties, and similarly so when Veldanava was killed; that he allowed Raine and Mizeri to fumble along day to day; that he felt relaxed in Velzard's presence. What was true was that, the moment Raphael appeared before Guy at Veldanava's behest, Guy had been intrigued, and that intrigue led to fondness over the millennia.
Guy cared so, so much, about so few things, and because he was selfish, he did not want to let go. With that in mind, perhaps it was inevitable that even the Primordial Rouge would shed tears as one of those few things withered in his arms.
He does not pray to Veldanava to save Raphael, or take the pain away. He knows Veldanava will not answer—can likely do neither of those things, even if he can hear Guy's plead from the afterlife. No, Guy simply curls around Raphael impossibly tighter, and tries to ignore the magicules that begin lifting into the air.
Time is blurry as it passes. They're probably only there for a few minutes, or an hour as most, but it feels as if only seconds passed, yet days as well. Raphael is limp against Guy, and with no fake breaths to be seen they could be mistaken as a corpse already. The only reason Guy knows Raphael is still with him is because of their aura, weak and dwindling, but undeniably still there. Guy wills his own Demon Lord aura to cocoon around then like a shield.
And then, becoming too antsy to figure out if it's been half an hour or not: "Is there anything else I can do? To stop this? To make you more comfortable?"
There's a flutter against Guy's neck again as Raphael no doubt blinks back into awareness. They shift, minutely, but enough for Guy to get the message and—begrudgingly—pull away enough for Raphael to look up at him. Bafflingly, Guy is met with a smile.
"No," Raphael again answers. With no strength to hold their head up, it lulls against Guy's shoulder. They keep smiling. "Not this time. But I'm glad, you know?"
Guy quirks an eyebrow, hoping it manages to convey glad to be dying or glad I can't do anything for you? It might not, what with how his face is covered with tears and the strands of Raphael's hair that stuck to said tears. Either way, Raphael giggles.
"That it's you," they elaborate. Raphael's once limp hand—the one that had been wrapped around Guy's shoulder—comes up to clumsily cup his cheek. Guy, in turn, raised the hand not keeping Raphael propped up to to rest over theirs. "I mean, I didn't want to die in front of any of you… and I've been doing so good. But… at least this time, you're not my junior."
…What?
No, really. Guy isn't sure which part of that he should be concerned about. Well, he supposes he can understand being glad not to die in the arms of someone younger than you, but Raphael is definitely older than Guy. They're around Veldanava's age, as far as anyone can tell! And then there's the fact that Raphael has been 'doing so good' not dying in front of anyone. So they've been dying for a while now? And did, in fact, want to go and die in the snow like some kind of pathetic animal? Or was it—
"Of course," Guy ends up saying. "I'll be here whenever you need me." He pauses, swallows, adds, "In this life, and the next."
Raphael hums, dropping their hand from Guy's hold. It settles into the fold of the blanket. "I know, and… I'm sorry."
You have nothing to be sorry for, Guy thinks, but does not say. I'm sorry, too, he adds. And isn't that just hilarious? Guy Crimson, Primordial Rouge, the first Demon Lord and he who was chosen by the Creator God to monitor the world… sitting in the floor of his room, apologizing. To his dying friend. Who he hadn't realized was a friend until today. All while pathetically misty-eyed.
…Demons kill for pleasure. Guy, himself, has slaughtered entire kingdoms, has watched people die beneath his own two hands. Yet here and now, this one death has brought him to his knees.
Metaphorically, that is. Guy had already been on his knees.
I'm sorry, Angel, he thinks again. Guy never got to know what Raphael's favorite food was, or where they slept, or what species they actually were, or anything else personal about them. Velzard had admitted similar finding, and apparently so had Velgrynd and Veldanava. Now, there was no more time.
No more time to get to know each other better.
No more time to watch Raphael scold Milim for swiping food off their plate.
No more drinking in the starlight as Raphael and the angels chase each other through the clouds.
No more time for Raphael to shape the world alongside Guy and Rudra into someplace worth living in.
I'm sorry, Raphael, Guy thinks, for the third and final time. With the naive hope that Raphael might be able to push through this, somehow, someway, he drops his forehead against Raphael's, tries to smooth out pained wrinkles with his thumb, and remains stagnant even as more and more magicules float away.
As Raphael's True Dragon aura falters further and further.
As the weight in Guy's arms gets lighter and lighter.
And thus, inevitably…
Raphael, the inspiration of the world, disappears in death, leaving Guy alone, in the quiet cold, with nothing but a damp blanket to comfort him. He clutches it close even still, and finally finds it within him to beg to a god that has long since died.
"Do you hear me, Veldanava?" Guy whispers, not from a fear of being overheard, but from a simply inability to will any strength into his voice. "You better… take them home."
A few moments pass, in which nothing happens. It's to be expected. Guy squeezes his eyes tight, and then roughly shakes his head as he pushes himself to his feet. He spreads the blanket back over his bed, as if nothing happened. He ignores the sticky blue slime on his hands. He turns to leave, to call for Raine and Mizeri, to find a way to put into words the fact that Raphael was not coming back—
And a voice answers.
«The Voice of the World is now active. Initiating: Otherworld cross-compatibility—»