Chapter Two
When Gentle Eyes Shatter Like Fragile Glass
Time: January 23, 1990 12:00 am
It was on my final days that I remember voices; voices that have no distinct expression but instead an emotion that is far incapable of being expressed through human thoughts. Voices of those that have longed since passed away but instead made their home in the heart of a great kingdom of no more sorrows, and no more need to allow themselves to be harmed by worldly pain. With those people carried wisdom that surpasses every existence that has ever been forged or conceived by godly hands.
The music they made was by all means moving but at the same time very appalling to the soul. You could almost feel how the person died at that exact moment; you could feel their time of judgment as they supposedly stood against themselves being questioned and tormented endless times only to ask to stay in a realm of semi-peace. That was their wish anyways so why does it have to end for them so soon?
The china was laid against the dinning table, the food and drinks has just been fully prepared. All these things have come to pass as a time for rejoicing. The time that I am describing is the time of Saint Krysta La'Bleak. The time when a young fledgling is to become a queen; queen of the Forgotten Angels or in modern tongue, a vampyeric saint. But that day was soon to become a morbid nightmare.
It was exactly 1 a.m. and I was to become the first and last female to inherit the throne. It was also at that same time that I was to see my one hundred thirty-first birthday.
When I receive such an honor I'm usually in how you say, a "nonchalant" mood. I mean today is nothing last yesterday. Nothing but the same old repeated acts of boredom forever laced with the sweet taste of eternity.
Like I said, today was a day of rapture for me as I was about to receive the title of head of this land.
So I start in my quarters of my palace, a palace of grandeur marvels that only the sinful as well as saintly would dare try to venture.
My fellow associate, Jade Diar; to whom I give great trust and care to, whom also to is my best friend and rival; she lies gently on my chair as I wake. Even though is a bit queer in her actions, I still adore her for her gentle replies as well as her striking wisdom. It is because of her that I have become a better necromæncer of the neutral and dim arts of the dead tongue. The skill that is now at its' finest peak at to which I have so longingly dreaded mastering. It's only because of my curiosity, that I have so willingly taken upon myself to learn such a time consuming craft. It is with this that I have finely tuned my true potential as a dead angel, to finally release my finer soul and to harbor a power so compelling that all succumb to the shear affect of even being in the room with me.
Yes it was she, with her fair brown skin, effervescent emerald eyes, and her voluptuous figure that I wake to her presence. Wake to my final hours, and to say farewell to this place.
"So why is it that you are the last one up in this place? Can't even get up to prepare for anything without someone behind you telling you what to do huh?"
Yeah it was just like her to order me around. I guess nothing changes. Even if you are about to become something better.
"Say what you want, but after today, I will make you seem like an ant to me. Ha, I bet you can't wait for that one huh?"
"Hmph. If you ask me little girl, you will still be lower than me when it comes to those little skills that you call your precious gifts.
Oh well, she is right, but even though she calls herself queen of the dark arts, doesn't mean that I can perfect my skills at such a low level. To be honest, she thinks that there are bounds and limits to things. It's because of that notion, that she constantly struggles her hardest every session to contain me. It's rules like that, that make a person weak. Poor attitudes never really did matter to me but in something this serious, when you must rely on what you learn… you have to keep your head up and defy such things.
"So Jade, are you coming to the ceremony tonight? I would gladly appreciate it if you could attend…"
"Well I don't know, I wouldn't want to get in the way between you and Natas now would I. I mean you two deserve your time together and…
As she continuously blabs on, I begin to realize that the door is slowly beginning to open. I found that odd; because no one was suppose to disturb me at the time. Nonetheless, no one seems to mind a small child in this place. Sure my age excels yours as well as many others as of this time, but in reality, being one hundred plus years old is nothing to actually brag about. The thing to brag about in this time is whether or not you excel as a thing. Yes a thing. And becoming a "saint of some sort" was something that would always boost your status amongst the ranks of true men and women.
As stated though, the door opens, but nothing approaches, or signifies that there is a life form present to this room, or is it?
My ears deceive me as of never as I hear the cold icy breath of another lifeless being, one way too familiar to be called lifeless, but instead the voice of my eternal companion, my forsaken lover. A companion so cold that nothing in this world can compare to its icy handshake. Not even the cold feeling of cocaine is considered a true touch but instead just a memorable facsimile of what he has to truly offer. The one I'm talking about is my prince, my sinner among the saints, my one and only Natas Mesistophilles Bubezeleeb; confirmed as the last ruler of the incubus race.
"Why don't you make yourself visible to us and say hello to my dear friend Jade? Or do you have too much pride to even wish a welcoming call to anyone tonight?"
"Dear child, if that were the case, then I would have just as assumed waltzed through here as a mere insect, cautiously crawling without a care, nonchalant, and by all means give no sign as to whom is about in your quarters. That is my style, and you know it."
So he is right, as well as he always was at least. There is to a single person in this world that can truly control their ability to find a shadow. I have to admit, even though their gifts are noticeably limited, they sure do have a way with illusions.
Now the present-
Illusions.
I value the word. It's because of illusions, that we are what we are. It's because of illusions that we can bend and meld the truth to whichever way we truly desire. It's like what my birth mother said, "When all is lost in this world, and everything you own is present, it all becomes nothing, it all becomes fragments, like glass. It's gentle eyes that gaze on false thoughts. It's the eye and your mind that truly interprets what is reality, and just a mere mind game, so be aware of everything around you, otherwise those gentle eyes of yours will shatter like fragile glass.
.
Night; oh how I enjoy you so much. You hide so many secrets, yet you are so willing to share them with anyone willing to hear you. Why are you so compassionate to those you hardly even know? Why do you give us so much? Your protection, your touch, your thoughts… oh how I long to learn those secrets. Oh how I wish that I could be as perfect as you. To embrace, and kiss those around you with your immaculate splendor. Only you know how much I truly envy you. My only companion, my only lover, rival, enemy. You are everything that is anything yet you are so dense as to let everyone know it. Why can't you be more like your sister day? Warm and promising of the new hours that everyone really look forward to.
Let me forever imagine both of you as both and the same. The same in many ways as a nonchalant child wearing her Sunday pink dress to a Catholic Mass.
I tire for the night, and dawn approaches. Let me sleep, yes dear one let me sleep, for your sister is at the same time a cold one. A hypocrite that claims to offer a promising day but to me can steal my precious life with her knives of white embossed light. Yes I fall now, and forever keep your promise to me. Only to me…
