Pertemis A Moon's Tale

Chapter XXVII: The Yearning Tale

Gone was the days he know how to breathe, to taste, to feel everything around him. Except for only one thing, alcohol. Bottles and bottles laid across the floor, pieces of shattered glasses smeared the rug. Percy sat at the corner with a bottle in his hand. He has forgotten what was the number of this one, hundred, thousand? He didn't care anymore. It had no taste anyway.

Trying to chuck whatever content that was left from the bottle, but only a droplet fell on his tongue. He glared at it, now even this wine bottle wanted to mock him.

"I don't need your sympathy!" He cried and threw it at the wall, smashing it into pieces to join many others.

Ever since she disappeared, he had been holding on to the hope that he would feel her presence in the room somehow. But it was just none. It was just a cold and endless emptiness. His finger pricked at the bond again, which now laid cold like a common thread, no longer shining. No longer alive.

It was the first few weeks that he had hoped, had tried to keep everything normal and eventually she would appear. Then that hope just dissolved slowly until he no longer dared anymore. Then it turned into years, years he had been sending out scouts. He had been searching, reading through all the books in the library to revive her. Yet, the sources all pointed to some bullshit directions.

Every time he failed, he picked himself up to search again. Because he made a promise that he would find her. But after so many failure, his will couldn't keep up with it. Because every time he tried again, it would only hurt more at the end, would feel disappointed ten thousand fold.

Percy willed that power of darkness around him, concentrated at the flame and poured his essence into it. The shadow condensed, slowly forming a figure.

She looked just like before she disappeared. Breathtakingly beautiful. Those long auburn hair, that straightness of her nose bridge, the arch of her brows and the fullness of her lips. He tried to replicate every detail he could remember from her. But no matter how he tried, how much essence he put into the doll, its eyes could never be as vivid, as alive as hers.

"Come here" he whispered and the doll walked straight to him.

He had promised himself not to perform this magic again. It was eating him up slowly and he knew he would die from it one day. But the thought of seeing her face, how she would look from his memory felt like a drug he couldn't get grid of. So, again and again, he would summon the shadow and make her replica.

The doll sat in front of him, its eyes were dull and lifeless. He brushed his finger along its cheek. Cold, like the darkness and shadow. He couldn't smell anything from it, couldn't decide the softness of her skin anymore. He couldn't believed he had forgotten it. And it had been killing him to remember.

The doors opened and Percy glared at it.

"Didn't I say to get out!?" He barked, his voice was hoarse.

"This place stinks" Harthon appeared at the entrance, holding his nose between his fingers.

The young prince looked at Percy, at the broken brother before him and sighed.

"Chaos, why are you doing this to yourself?"

Percy ignored him. He grabbed another bottle and devoured some more liquor.  Harthon eyes glanced at the doll that sat in front of his brother and winced his nose.

"I can't believed would resolve to such a pathetic move Perseus" Harthon spoke in disappointment. "This dark magic is only for the shameless. At least have the dignity of a Prince, will you?"

"Huh?" Percy smirked. "What's a Prince?"

He continued to take another long sip.

"When he can't even fucking save his mate!?" His roar made the candle flame flutters and proceeded to smash the bottle in his hand against he wall.