Calamity Oneshots

cataclysm | Remuria x Daemon

Daemon had met his beloved's reincarnation at rock bottom nine times. He'd noted that in every lifetime Remuria had spent with him, her stamina grew weaker and her injuries, let it be simple cuts or burns, took more and more time to recover.
The immortal very well knew how independent the first Remuria was, yet couldn't bring himself not to make all the reincarnations promise to call his name if they seem to be in a tough situation. This time however, Daemon easily pinpointed that this Remuria is not as dependent on him than the others.
She was just as stubborn as the first lady. And just as reckless and golden-hearted. But even so, in her seemingly last moments she uttered the sacred word. And her beloved wasn't out of practise either, arriving to the scene quite swiftly.
Upon teleporting, the first thing he laid eyes on was the undeniably vast, bleeding gash on the lady's side, her unconscious body laying on the soil delicately, a monster lurking around her.
With only a snap of one's fingers, Daemon killed the dark being, not even sparing it a glance to see what kind of monster did Remuria almost earned her death to.
Hurriedly the man with outmost care lifted his lady into his arms after seeing she bled all her body could possibly pour out of itself.
In one single minute they were back in Daemon's mansion — the place the very first lady had occupied and gave away to him upon nearing her death.
It took everything in Daemon to keep his head clear as his summoned healing powers did little to nothing to spare the lady, let alone bring her back.
But the fury kept pushing, letting every last drop of his powers to dry, trying to bring back the Remuria who had called for him for the first time in her entire life.

As she laid in his arms, almost lifelessly pale and cold, Daemon had persisted even more. He had to. There was no other way. After quite a while, he felt his core weakening, yet he pushed past it up until his powers drained almost completely.
He closed his eyes for a mere second, trying to accept the harsh reality he once again wished to forget.
His hand, with outmost care, tilted her head towards him, his thumb gently caressing her pale cheek as his lips met her forehead, giving her one last kiss as a parting gift.
"I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we have suffered enough," Daemon quietly uttered, holding her close one last time before he called for an officer, with a snap of his fingers dressing her into an exceptionally extravagant white lace dress.
"Had i kept a closer eye on you, Dear..." he softly whispered, summoning a light blue tulip made of pure magic coming from Daemon deep within, "Then I would not have to say goodbye so soon."
His delicate arms held her close as he carried Remuria's remains into her carefully maintained garden, and laid her into a coffin the officer had brought.
With another snap of his fingers the coffin closed quietly, and disappeared underneath the soil. The officer left without a word, leaving the immortal alone in the whole estate.
Daemon summoned another tulip, similar to the one in the hands of his beloved deep down. He kept it in his hand as some sort of memoir, standing and gazing at her resting place as tears pooled in his dark irises, aching to be shed.
Though, when they did, they became invisible as the rain he summoned started pouring onto him, soaking his chemise, and shoes, and hair, and face all the same but he did not budge one bit. He wanted to be soaked perhaps a bit too much to wash himself clean of the guilt that once again started tearing his heart into countless bits and pieces. He wanted to burn so helplessly only the rain answered his plea.
It had been a day, Daemon stood there motionlessly. And another day, and weeks later, too.

One would think he became a helpless statue...