Sta.sh
Colourful petals, and a range of orange and gold leaves fluttered through the air on their way to an already-coated undergrowth below. The soft autumnal breeze whispered between the falling storm of colours, and the now-barren branches from which they came. The sun shone warmly between the branches onto the ground below, and unto the young boy in the robes of the whispering gods. He stood silently in the morning light, and listened to the whispers; smelled the whispers. It was said that the scents of the wind were those the whispering gods brought to you, and gave to you as a gift to understand what you hear from them clearer. The cat-boy closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, tasting the cool air.
It was extremely refreshing. Thánatos let it drift down, deep into his lungs. He had grown up having breathing difficulties; whether he was born this way or not wasn't something that Thánatos often thought on, and he generally didn't consider it important. This was the only way left for him to taste the full beauty of breathing. The cool autumn days were some of his favourites because of this. The past two months serving at the temple of the whispering gods had been some of his favourite days as well. The breeze tugged, softly at his golden robe; it pulled at the silver cape, which shone brilliantly in the afternoon light.
He let out the crisp air he had drawn in, with a long sigh. Thánatos opened his eyes and smiled. He turned towards the temple, which was set into the side of a large cliff; it lay at the end of a long, dirt path trailing from the passing roadway. He lazily walked back onto the path, and made progress in the direction of the temple; she would be waiting for him. Two months ago he had met her, and because of this, these past months had been much better than Thanatos could have ever dreamed. Dreamed. His dreams still haunted him, but not nearly as much as before he joined the temple. They never left his room, nor did his Ta dákrya tis Ptérygas, the Tears of the Wings, or his Gánti tis Kólasis. The night was the only time the darkness ever haunted him anymore; he was happy with just this much peace from his nightmares.
Without his shoes, or his gauntlet, Thánatos didn't have nearly as much magical ability. His potency for magic was extremely low; he couldn't even call upon the glowing light of the whispering gods without the assistance of an item. This was extremely disappointing, because the temple of the whispering gods didn't have any such item.
The magnificent doorway, which was covered with panoramic images of light, wind and worshippers, was before Thanatos now, and he pushed upon them to enter the temple. They parted before him. It still never ceased to surprise Thánatos at how light they were. He stepped into the main hall, and was soon greeted by his mentor, Xecháste. The man was the forgetful type; the easily-forgotten type too. Thanatos smiled as his mentor reached him; he bowed to him.
"Teacher Xecháste."
His teacher nodded. "Greetings, Thánatos. It's good that I caught you now, young one; she isn't in here right now."
"Oh? To what do I owe this pleasure, Teacher?" Thánatos replied. He rose again, and looked into his teacher's eyes quizzically.
"That girl... She is hopelessly worried about you, whatever you do and wherever you go. I decided it was due time to ask after your wedding plans, my child. It would be an honour to be the presiding priest over the ceremony."
Thánatos was taken aback. Were his feelings for her that transparent? Thanatos didn't realize he'd even given the impression that he was interested in her. And... did she really care for him that much too? This finalized it for him; he was going to tell her his feelings today. He had been putting it off for long enough.
His mentor laughed. "Ahh, don't look so surprised, child. Did you really think no one had noticed?" Xecháste winked.
"My thanks, Teacher. However I do not think wedding plans are necessary yet. I haven't told her how I feel. Even if I had, I don't want to jump into something..."
"Oh, come now young one, jump into something? You two are like songbirds with each other. You were meant for each other. I've never seen her so happy, and that's saying something. I pretty well raised her."
Thánatos sighed. "Even so, I don't think we should rush. I will tell her how I feel, but talk of weddings can wait a few years."
"Very well, my child. It wouldn't be right for me to force you, go and tell her though. I'm sure things will turn out fine. She's in her room, go." He gave Thánatos one of his beaming smiles, and nodded his head before walking off to some of the other young priests to pass some of his teachings unto them.
Thánatos smiled at that before turning down the hall that led to her room. His thoughts drifted to her, and then to his life before. He couldn't help but wonder what had happened to that demon spirit after it left him alive. Maybe it had gotten back home, to the world of whispers. Or the world of the dead, if it was an evil spirit.
Soon he was within eyesight of her door, and immediately Thanatos knew something was wrong. Something didn't feel right.
There was no wind.
The temple of the whispering gods always had a soft breeze; it was a sign of the gods' presence. This hallway, near the ajar door leading into her room, had no wind. Soon Thanatos knew what he was feeling in the air; there wasn't any possible way for him to not recognize it. The dark energies swirled about, unseen to the eyes of the living, and felt in a way similar to the wind, if not for the fact that it slowly made you feel like your spirit was dying. Thánatos could breathe clearly here.
This place was evil. Worry rushed through Thánatos as he realized the darkness was coming out of the open doorway to her room. He ran into the doorway, blessing his luck that his breathing had cleared up, and yet cursing it at the same time because of just what it meant.
The window was wide open; no one was in the room. Thánatos leaped over to the window, to avoid the restrictions a robe had on his running ability.
There she was. In the air, outside of the temple. The dark, spiralling shadows spun off of the tall figure that held her. It was the demon spirit. The black swirls coming from its body were more powerful than any other dark energy Thánatos had ever felt. His heart cried for her, because he knew it would be too much for her to stand. The dark energies would be eating at her soul; if she got away it would take months, maybe even years to recover.
"Thánatos, the time has come. The time of your destiny is at hand. You are the key. You are the way for me to go home."
Rage boiled through Thánatos, at the words of the spirit. He would never accept the destiny the cloaked men had put upon him. He would never be the host for the demon spirit.
But... Home? Even the bearded man hadn't ever said anything about sending the demon spirit home. The bearded man had wanted the demon spirit in this world, to end all life.
"Put her down, demon. Put her down, and I might consider sparing your life." Thánatos hissed.
"Foolish child. She is my confirmation that you will obey. Come, return to the 'temple' where they freed me. If you come within the month, I might 'consider' sparing her. The journey is at least a week for one such as yourself, and so I have given you more than enough time."
"If I did, what would you do then? I doubt you'd let her go with me."
"I will not lie. She will likely die, but I shall not have any reason to kill her. I will devour your soul, and take residence in your body. The only way home is to die, while within a compatible body."
This was beyond anything Thánatos had expected. He wouldn't give in to the demon spirit's demands, and yet he wouldn't leave her. His eyes turned to her. She hung, limp in the demon spirit's arms. She was still conscious, but she didn't look like she would stay that way long.
"Death... Don't... Don't let him eat you. I can't lose you... Let him kill me..."
"No! I can't... You mean too much to me, ...!" he cried.
"Only a fool would let her die, Thánatos. It is time for you to decide for yourself just who you are."
"Thánatos!" she screamed. She tried to be brave for him, but in the end she was scared. She was ready to accept her fate, but she couldn't help but scream.
The demon spirit floated upwards slowly, and faded away with her. Thánatos knew where to find them. He needed to choose. Either let her die, or die with her. The chains of fate had bound Thanatos, and he felt trapped. He couldn't betray her.
Thánatos made his decision. He found a third pathway-- a path where she could live. He went to his own room at as brisk a pace he could, in a place where there were not demonic energies in the air. He removed his silver cape, and his golden robe. His dark pants were the only article he had kept from his days before joining the temple. He never completely detached himself from who he once was, no matter how much he desired to.
He gasped, fighting to keep going as he entered his room. The robe, and cape, he threw onto his bed; he knelt before that bed and pulled from underneath it a wooden box. For a moment, he paused. This box was who he had once been. This box was who he could become, if he opened it. He closed his eyes for a moment, and listened for the whispers. They were too quiet, and they told him nothing. He opened the seal on the box.
The Ta dákrya tis Ptérygas and the Gánti tis Kólasis. The darkness he had once been, and now would become again. He had given up the darkness for her, and he couldn't help but notice the dark irony of the fact that he was taking up the darkness again for her. All for her.
He hurt so much, knowing now beyond a doubt the one thing he hadn't been willing to say for so long.
Thánatos loved her.
He bit into his right hand, and cried for the first time since he had taken up the robe of the whispering gods. He was Thánatos of the dark; Thánatos of the light would never be again. His hand began to bleed underneath his sharp teeth, and after it did he stopped biting it. He grabbed his black, blood stained gauntlet and pulled it onto his right hand.
"Oh, Sword of the Demons... I call upon thee, Gánti tis Kólasis, for I am your master. I am Thánatos, most wretched of men to don the robes of the whispering gods."
In his hand appeared a deep, red sword. The gauntlet suckled on his blood, almost like a hungry child. He closed his eyes, feeling the darkness soak into him. His breathing cleared.
It was time. Thánatos opened his eyes, and stuck his feet into the Ta dákrya tis Ptérygas. They were grey shoes, with silver symbols on the sides. The symbols were shaped like tears. The symbols began to glow blue, as he called upon their power. Thánatos whispered her name, as a soft prayer. As a final call to the love he felt for her.
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She awakened atop a tall cliff, with a desolate looking temple before her. She could remember what it was like in there, vaguely. She remembered the demon spirit holding her. It had been as if she was dying, and she still hadn't recovered from the feeling.
After... After that, she recalled being in Thánatos' arms. He had a dark expression, one she hadn't ever seen him with before. He had been wearing his black gauntlet again, and in it he had held a deep red sword. Then he... He had cut the demon spirit. The spirit had been in pain, and it had said that it wouldn't ever let Thanatos forget it. It had given him a second name... Daímonas, after itself. Her mind drifted to what she had said on the day she met him...
"Thánatos... Do you have a second name? Many do, especially when their name has such a dark meaning."
It hurt too much, knowing that she had once wished he would one day have a second name. Thanatos. Where are you? Thánatos... Thank you. You saved me. At what cost, I do not know. I love you.
She pushed herself into a sitting position, and saw Thánatos a little ways off. His back was turned to her, and he was staring off the cliff.
"Thánatos..." she began.
"Wait," he whispered, "... 'Is there a name I can call you by, most honourable of followers of the whispering gods? Or shall your name forever remain a mystery to me?'" His voice shook as the words came out, he sounded as if he was crying.
She told him her name again; she wanted to stop his tears. His breath quivered.
He turned towards her, and she saw the tears running down his face. Thánatos had never cried about anything before. Why? Why did he cry now? She wanted to embrace him so badly, and yet the whispers were yelling. They yelled of a darkness within Thánatos, and warned her; it hurt so much to feel so distant from him. The yelling, and the feeling from the darkness from the demonic energies made her too weak to go to him.
"I love you," Thánatos said, "I love you..."
He turned from her, and began to walk away. He paused for a moment, and spoke in a soft, lacklustre tone. "... Good bye, my love."
No! Not now! Why was he leaving her? She was crying now too. She couldn't bear it. She was lost without him.
"Thánatos! Don't leave me! I love you... So... So don't go!"
Her cries didn't seem to have any effect on him, as he wandered between leafless trees; treading upon the fallen leaves beneath his feet. In his hand were black feathers, a symbol of mourning. Mourning of the dead. Mourning... Of her Death, and of her.
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