The Darkest Night

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He saw her in everything. The sea. The golden sand. The blossoming leaves that would turn all the colours of her mood. The glittering stars. The black velvet sky that stretched out before them and far back into the past.

Mostly, he saw her in the sun.

A great sphere of light which brought life and light to the world. A mighty and powerful thing that without which all would wither and die.

She was his sun.

Would it be better if he no longer had to look upon these things? These things that reminded him of her. Reminded him of what he'd lost. Of what they'd taken from him.

And if he ceased to exist, if he were slain, what then? Would it be preferable to this? This black emptiness. Would it be better if he could simply stop fighting and let death take him? Take him to some place where no living thing dwelled and no sun ever rose.

Would he still be able to close his eyes and recall her form as he always had? Would he be able to summon the memory of her touch as he always had? Would he still hear her voice whisper in his ear in the depths of silence?

He was not certain. And no matter how much he contemplated it, his mind could not fathom a world truly absent of her, could not imagine such desolation. The mere thought of it tore a hole through his soul.

And yet, there at the very far recesses of his mind, he knew it would one day be thus. One day soon perhaps.

And there, without her, he would wither and die in the dark.

An eternity of darkness.

He drank absently of his wine and breathed deep, his thoughts boisterous and violent. With his eyes closed his other senses sharpened, so that the footsteps sounded like thunderclaps against the stone floor of the chamber. His brother's earthy scent conjured thoughts of a distant past, where boys rode beasts of wing up into the mountains and down toward sand and sea. Water kicking up spray in laughing faces. Childish thoughts of peace and immortality.

'Please tell me you've come to say goodbye, brother?' he sighed without turning. 'I could not bear any more of your gloating.'

'I thought you rather enjoyed my gloating?'

'When we were children my patience was an endless thing. Now I am weary.' His soul ached for her. It ached as it always did when it was apart from her. He used to consider it a weakness; but no longer. Now he recognised it for what it had been - fortification. For what he had endured these dark days. For what he may have to endure for an eternity to come. A chill swept down his spine.

'Tis not wise to tell me that, Leo — I will only use it against you when I am given the chance.' His brother's voice was droll, relaxed even. When he turned to look upon him Cal's eyes glinted with bittersweet humour as he moved further into the room.

Despite the light that shone from him; glowing sun-kissed skin, burnished bronze hair, bright golden eyes - there was a darkness that seeped from his very core. A darkness that had only grown with age, a taint that bled from his soul. Leo knew where it lingered, knew its potential, had witnessed its release, but Cal strove hard to keep it hidden from most.

'I assume father does not know you're here?' Leo asked. He knew the answer of course but felt the need to ask all the same.

His brother laughed softly. 'You know as well as I that there are a great many things it is better father does not know.' Glancing curiously around the Tower's interior, his brother's golden eyes were impassive. 'I suppose your stone fortress in the sky becomes you. Even if your men are incompetent fools.' He glanced back over his shoulder in the direction he had just come, unimpressed.

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