In Aeternum (Actively Updating and Editing)

IV: White Gold (10/23)

Orson made his way quickly back to his castle home, his head full of thoughts and visions from his childhood. Even just the idea of Hannah's new friend being who he thought it was, was more than he could bear.

Flying past his father, he made his way into the study and stopped short of one of the covered paintings. It had a cloth placed over it, a curtain that had been drawn days after her father returned to tell them the worst.

With all of his anger and hurt, he tore the silk from the wall, an audible growl emanating from his lips. As the fabric floated to the floor behind him, he reached up to touch the oil-painted canvas. He knew every curve of her face, every brush stroke of the painter's hand.

He remembered this day, fondly. Elysia sat in a chair in a soft blue dress, and he stood behind her, his hand on the back of her seat. They refused to sit still for the first hour and almost made the painter quit. But, eventually, they settled into a good position and allowed him to finish. Afterward, they took off into the "great unknown" that was the castle gardens and weren't seen again until dinner.

His father came up behind him slowly, placing a hand on his son's shoulders.

"It's been a long time," Max said softly, "But we shouldn't dwell in the past like this. Your coronation is within the fortnight, so please focus on that."

He then left his son to his own whims and made his way down the hall, towards his wife in the throne room. Perhaps a memorial was due sometime soon? It had been almost 100 years since then.

Orson floated up to take the painting off of the wall, and then made his way towards his tower. As he made his way down the long, dark, halls, he stared at the picture. Something tugged at the back of his mind about the painting, almost like he was missing something.

Turning it over just to be sure, he saw that an envelope was tucked into the framing.

"What on...?"

Taking it out, he felt a slight heaviness in his hand. Something metal, or perhaps multiple metal things, were enclosed inside of the parchment. He could barely contain his interest. How, in a hundred years, had he not noticed this at all?

Turning over the envelope, his red eyes looked over the writing.

~Orson~

Placing the painting on the chair beside his bed, he sat down on the red velvet covers and slowly opened up the intriguing thing, dumping its contents onto his hand.

Out fell a note and two metal rings. One ring was a simple silver-looking band with a black gem embedded into it; Something he hadn't seen in decades. The white gold sparkled in the torchlight, and on the inside of the band were carved the words, "Regulus Noctis".

Prince of the Night.

The other, a finer band of the same material, had a moonstone embedded there. He knew the words carved on each side of it well, though he'd forgotten all about them until just now.

"Et Lunam et Omnia Astra".

The moon and all of the stars.

Placing them down onto the bed, he gingerly opened the paper, already feeling like he was going to cry.

~ If you're reading this, then yay! You found it! ~

The first tear fell. It was her handwriting. Soft and flowing, swirling slowly over the length of the page.

~ But, if you have found it, then chances are that I am no longer there to share its contents with you. And if so, here it goes:

Orson, my best friend. I can see that you're lonely if you've gone looking here of all places. How are you? I hope the years have treated you well. I'm sure I'm pretty okay where I am now, I probably have no complaints.

I hid these here for you to find if you ever needed me. Remember the day our parents gave us these? Told us that we'd be BEST FRIENDS FOREVER?? I do! After a while, we stopped wearing them because we didn't want to lose them (and we both know it was just a way for our parents to find us when we ran off), so I took the liberty of finding yours to keep it here with mine. Remember that game of hide and seek where you found me in your room and you made a joke about how I never hid there? Well, now you know why. ~

Orson couldn't hold back the sobs, and it was like a century-old floodgate had opened. Bloody tears streaked down his pale cheeks as he read her words. She knew she wouldn't be around at some point. She knew something was going to happen to her. But what exactly had happened? And how?

All he felt was sadness. Every other emotion had been pushed from his being, just like when cold air made you lose your breath. Where there was once love and laughter, there was now an aching emptiness.

~ I suppose all I have left to say are things that I meant to tell you before, but never had the chance.

You are half of my soul and all of my heart. You may not have felt the same way, or even understood the emotion at the time, but I watched myself love you, and oh how I loved you. These weren't words I could speak aloud, we were both young and you, even being older than I, would not have the capacity to understand them. I'm afraid that I wrote my goodbye this way because I could not face you. I could not watch you cry and beg me to stay. I don't have a choice in leaving. If I did, I would have decided to stay. I would have always decided to stay. I will always, always, choose you.

But some things just can't be controlled, and we can't escape our fates forever. ~

The only way he could describe the pain he felt from her words, was like slowly dying from a stake to his heart. Like watching the blood pour down his pale skin and having no reason to stop it. He felt like he was dying, and oh how he wanted it, yearned for it.

~ As you're reading this, I am long since gone and I hope you can continue to live without me. And most of all, I hope you can forgive me.

Au Revoir,

Elysia ~

Orson gripped the letter in his hands, sobbing as he gasped for breath.

It just wasn't fair, and it would never be fair. They should both be here right now, taking the next steps in their life together. She should be curled up in his bed, right beside him. Elysia should have been around to meet Hannah, and celebrate with them, always. There was nothing fair about any of this, and he just didn't want to do it anymore.

Not anymore.

When he was finally calm, having cried out everything he felt he could, he placed the letter down on the bed and tried his best to flatten out the wrinkles his clenched fists had caused, running his fingers over her handwriting.

Rolling onto his back, he held up his ring above his head to gaze at it. The midnight-coloured stone glinted in the firelight, every inch as beautiful as it was when their parents gifted the rings to them.

After trying it on each finger, it easily slid into place on his left hand, finally fitting on a finger other than his thumb the way it did as a kid.

Gripping her ring in that same hand, he let it fall to his chest with a thud and closed his eyes.