| The Hero of Old Moladion
It cannot be said why he stays, why the male of black and silver rests outside the empty den of his imprint, silver eyes unfocused and lost as he stares within the gloom. He knows she is gone, for he feels it within himself, those fine tendrils of soul no longer within his reach. Far, yes, she is very far away and within a place he can no longer guide her or watch over her. Jaye is gone, yes, gone to the land above this one, gone to walk amongst the ghosts- though she does not linger as so many of them do, no, no. Her shape does not shift and change before him, she does not whisper to his Ears in the night, begging, please, please to speak for her as the others do. She is gone. She is peaceful and some part of the ungainly male is content in this knowledge. They say she is safe, she is happy, that she no longer needed him and though it has left a scar upon him, left a mark very deeply within his disproportional form- he is content. No longer needed. That is all. It is as it has always been. He comes, he stays, he speaks, he carries the scars of others until they are healed- and he moves on. He must move on, yes, yes- but not tonight, no. For one more night he may linger in that place where her scent whispers still and those silver eyes, so unfocsed, may be given to allow Mind and Eyes and Ears to wander within a place only Dude may see or hear. A place where Jaye lingers, where Lyric plays and he still looks upon Persphone and Hathor, Kismet and Fox. His children, his female, gone, gone….but not so far away, not when Mind travels as it does to a plain all his own.
Yet he is not long within this place before They whisper and speak once more, before he rises so silently to his ungainly limbs and oversized paws, ridiculously fluffy form moving through Glorall. He is not stopped, he is not halted, for there are surely none within this land whom will deny passage to the creature with the easy stride and vacant eyes, the lazy grin and fumbled words that seem to hold no truth, yet every truth all the same. Only the foolish do not heed his words, only those who do not heed his words are given to fall. It is as he had foretold. Knew, yes, already he knew of the fate of Weylin, had told Jaye as much in broken words so many days earlier that only the foolish are given to walk where the Angel does not tread, that the flood would come to Glorall- and it had. Weylin had walked where the others would not, had walked nearest the edge, had been flooded with water when the creature rose from the depths to take him. Dude had warned. They had not listened- or not understood. It matters not. Weylin is gone within the waves, They say it must be so and so it is. Dude will not question, no, Mind is already focused upon another as he moves, awkward and stumbling, following the sound of another. Yes, yes, much to say, much to say to this one. King. King of so many- still. Yes. Devil- brother to Angel. Shield and Sword. As he foretold, many years ago. Yes. He remembers the dark one, he remembers, though his fate has changed They say.
Silver eyes so unfocused this day, a symbol of his detachment from this earth, perhaps of his insanity, for many believe him merely crazed and not at all the Prophet that others will raise him to be. Eyes rest upon Devil as he comes, Paws stumbling and tripping towards him before he sits, yes, sits right in front of the black male whose call is filled with longing for soul. But soul is gone They say. Gone far, far away- but not like his Jaye, no. His head tilts and turns, Ears moving, listening as They whisper and speak before he nods to words only he may hear. Broken this one is, very broken. Balanced no more, so close, so close to a darkness. Gone. His children. Gone. His soul. Dude knows. Always he knows, though whether this is divine intervention or merely the knowledge of a wandering loner whom has known for a time most long of the life of Devil May Cry, as he knows of the lives of many in his ramblings and travel, cannot be knowns. Prophet or curious loner it matters not, They have words for the dark one and Dude must bring them. When he speaks his tone is soft, gentle and calm, so calm as always, for there is no creature upon this earth more kind or gentle, no creature more pure and untainted then the male of dark and light who sits before the Devil in this moment.
“They are sorry, yes, yes, so sorry, They say, for those who are gone. Not you, no, no fault, no. Sometimes……time is not what we are wanting, shorter, longer, but never enough. Remember, remember always and never gone, They say.”
He frowned, head tilting once more, contemplation across his features. He does not understand all They say, words, numbers, names that have no meaning, not to him, at least, though he speaks them anyway.
“Not all gone, no- remember They say. The Devil should not forget his Brother- never far, never far. Dark and Light together so well. Love, always love. Not all gone. They say. First and Second and Third. Love…….but love takes too. Gone. She is gone. Soul, your Soul, like my soul….gone away. They are sorry. Yes, yes. Natalya They say- gone.”
The words are rambled, tone calm and smooth, unbroken though his own features show confusion at his words. Perhaps Devil will understand, perhaps he will not and though indeed the words are not so clear….the meaning is not so hidden. They are sorry his children are gone, but They do not blame him and he should not blame himself. All will die someday, Devil cannot be blamed for time and if he remembers, always remembers his children, they will not be forgotten, for those who love him have not forgotten him, Dude knows this, yes. The Angel King does not forget his Brother, The Devil, Kane and Isola stand still, a symbol of his bloodline. First and Second and Third speak of generations born from love and the last…the last words speak the news he does not want to hear…..the loss of his soul. Dude does not waver, eyes held against Devil still and waiting, silent, calm….waiting for the storm that is to come…..
if you don't mind, it don't matter
13 Years || No Mate || No Imprint || No Living Children || One of The Three|| Loner |