Looking Beyond The Lies (Drarry) (Boyxboy)

Chapter 22 - How The Mighty Fall

A long time ago, there lived a Prince... Who had a mother and father that ruled all the lands as far as the eye could see. They loved all the people under their reign, and treated them like friends, just as they were. They owned many things, from emeralds to diamonds to rubies. Fine rolls of delicate silk, cotton and velvet. Silverware, goldware, goldware adorned with rubies. The land they owned was the most prosperous of all the lands, with farmers doting on every crop. Many goods came from the crops in abundances, with never a bad harvest. They were blessed with the riches of the earth. You name it, they had it. And they loved everything they owned, not materially, but because what they had, they used to help, to give and to prosper the people of their country. The most precious of all though, was their son, Edward. A sweet boy who'd make a mighty King one day. He had everything he could want and more. He even had the best friend he could ask for. One might even say he loved him.

However, he was conflicted with internal struggles that weren't visible to an outside eye but his own. He'd been overcome with bouts of dark, depressing sadness. A mask replaced his face by day, but by night, alone in his chambers, there was no one to hear his sad cries. The boy he was friends with knew something was wrong, but he didn't know what to make of it. Though his mother and father loved him, they weren't always in tune with him. He'd tried to talk to them about it, but they didn't really understand. Often times, he'd struggled deeply, but found ways to occupy his mind from the pain, seeking out the comfort of his friend's arms as he held him tightly. Eventually, the days grew longer and progressively worse. Most nights ended with him holding out his sorrows. At last, his friend came to understand what was wrong. The boy searched deeply for answers, he just wanted the prince back, his prince.

The prince was a shadow of his former self, glory forgotten in his eyes. There was no escape from the fury of his mind as it turned into a rotting hell, becoming a nightmare he could no longer live. One particular night, he was quite clingy to his friend as they walked to the castle door together. As his friend tried to say goodbye, the prince just wanted to hold him in his arms for a minute, one last time. Before he pulled away, his lips brushed against the other's cheek, ghostly. He hoped it could say what he never could. And then he was gone, inside before the other could say anything. As he passed his mother and father, he told them how much he loved them, and how much he always would, how he appreciated everything that they've done for him. Before they could think upon it, he was upstairs and in his chambers. He waited for dark, to let out his sad cries one last time. And they came, melancholy and hollow, forming a beautifully sad melody. And then it was silent.

He laid in his bed, a dagger in his hands, crafted from pure silver by the best silversmith in all the lands. It was ornately intricate and beautiful, but it was to be used for a sad purpose, in the destruction of a life. He silently said his goodbyes, closing his eyes and poising the dagger above his chest. In one swift movement, he plunged it next to his heart, a pained hiss of air escaping from his lips. His mind was clouded and with slow and groggy actions, he pulled the dagger free, letting it clatter to the floor.

"I love you, Jason." Were his last words as the life faded from within him.

As if by instinct, Jason was drawn to Edward's chamber doors, and when he pushed the heavy oak door open, he couldn't help but scream as loud as his lungs would let him at the sight he saw. There was a bloody dagger on the floor and blood blossoming over Edward's chest. He rushed forward, hands already out and checking Edward's body for a breath, a pulse, anything. Tears were bubbling over the rims of his eyes and down his cheeks. He tried to put pressure on the puncture in Edward's chest, but it was no use. Blood still flowed and Edward was still dead. He cradled the body to his chest with bloody hands. "I love you, too." He whispered to no one.