Tears I Cry
By Seniya
Children shall pay for the sins of the father
…
Epilogue
…
Nineteen Years Later
…
Blood.
Pools of the crimson deliverance gathered beneath his naked feet. He watched, bewildered; as it engulfed his porcelain flesh, clinging to his skin like a disease.
He made no move to escape; instead he stared unmoving; as the flow devoured his legs, his chest, his heart, and then finally his soul.
'Seek me child' a growl ravaged his consciousness "I have what you need'
…
The bittersweet night winds caressed his sweaty face when he awoke. He drew a hard, ragged breath to calm himself; and tried, in futility, to banish his dreams.
If that was all that they were anymore.
A cough erupted within his fragile frame, the first of many for the night he suspected.
…
The disease he suffered from wasn't uncommon; now it seemed that everyone was suffering from its effects, in some way.
His mother had died from it sometime last year; his father had followed soon after. Now he lived with friends; or rather those who had promised his dying father that they would look after him.
…
He brushed his white blonde hair from his sweat burdened forehead, grimacing at how it hurt him to do such a simple thing. Slowly, he dragged his heavy feet towards the open window.
…
It was freezing- the wind. But still, he only drew nearer to it. He liked the cold.
It wasn't comforting, it didn't pretend. He was certain that the breeze had been the only constant in his life.
…
His mother had hated him. He knew that.
She would glare at him for hours when he was younger; as though he reminded her of something so heartbreaking, that she couldn't bear it. Then she would leave, wordlessly, and scream away within her bedroom.
His father at least, had tried. But he knew that the emotions there had never been sincere, how could they be? His son had looked nothing like him.
It was something that he had noticed when he was but ten years of age. The brown hair, those haunting green eyes and tan skin…his own insipid complexion, brown eyes and blonde locks…the differences had made little sense to him at the time.
But now, he knew it. He had been a mistake, a miscalculated error that had emerged in the form of a son.
And he was to be cursed because of it.
…
His childhood had been ruined but disgusted stares from the other villagers. Once, a boy had run up to him saying that they all hated him because he looked like that baby killer.
The same boy had fallen dead days later, the victim of a tragic lightning strike.
…
It was another thing that had caused the others to be wary of him; the series of unfortunate occurrences that could always be linked to him.
The dog that had bitten him when he was five—died two days after when it was attacked by wolves. The girl, who had told him that she had hated everything about him after he had confessed his unwavering affection towards her, had drowned a month after; although she had known how to swim perfectly since the age of six.
It seemed that if they hadn't died after making contact with him; then the disease struck them dead.
…
He could have sometimes even heard the angry voices of the villagers as they bombarded his father with questions late into the night.
Fear was evident on all of their faces, pathetic, he would murmur, all of them were absolutely pathetic, being so scared of a child.
…
…
But the wind, yes; the delightful cold that dashed across his face. That was true beauty, true sanctuary.
…
A horrible scream whipped through the night, disrupting his ecstasy momentarily. It was followed by a sob, and he knew immediately what it was.
Death.
Another had fallen victim to this sickness' wrath.
…
His gaze lingered upon the lonely house that he knew the cry had originated. A rage swelled inside of his chest, he knew--he had always known; that someday, that would be him.
…
That small fact bothered him immensely.
…
It doesn't have to be.
The familiar scent of blood wafted around him.
"What do you want now" Deimos murmured; he was being very careful to keep his voice down.
You know what I want—it's the same thing that you want…life.
"Leave me in peace spirit!" he whispered again, this time his speech was disrupted by another overpowering cough.
No, no my boy…I think that I will stay…for awhile.
He had been the unwilling listener to this voice's demands since his mother's passing. It had only grown strong with confidence over the past moths, now it seemed to rule Deimos' mind.
"Leave me now"
I can help you.
"And what would I need help with?"
Immortality, to achieve such a thing…all you must do is help me…
Deimos suddenly grew interested with this new turn of conversation. "How?" he asked.
Your mother…your dear mother.
Deimos could not contain a snort of laughter. "My mother…my mother hated me, I'm glad that the burden is dead now"
Yes…I remember… you laughed when you heard she was gone…I smiled.
"Did you…where are you?"
I'm in hell…trapped, that is why I need you.
"But why choose me…why did you decide to ask me when so many others suffer from this same plight?"
I have been watching you…your beginnings…you please me immensely…your father, your real father; was a wonderful man, though misguided perhaps when it came to matters of the heart.
Deimos' confusion only grew with each passing moment.
"I need answers first…before I can help you…"
Ask me then.
"Who are you?"
My name if that is what you want is Greydon.
"How did you know of my mother?" the name stirred a sense of familiarity within the boy, but he managed to overlook it.
I talked to your mother, when she was younger…
"And this talking…how can you do it—why can't I see you?"
My body is confined…it's useless to me…but my mind, it can still function, and I have a connection with you, from your mother; that is why.
"This connection what is it?"
It is how you will rescue me…are you finished now, there is much to be done.
"No, not yet" there was still something he had to know from this mysterious ghost. 'My father…who was he?"
Your mother never told you…no, I suppose she wouldn't have told you; his name was Phobos.
"The King?" Deimos sputtered.
Oh yes.
"So that would mean that I…"
You are royalty, the heir to the throne, however unfortunate it may be that you may never live to have this for yourself.
"Baby killer" the youngster understood.
So you have heard stories then?
"Yes…" he trailed away. "One more thing…I have noticed those around me…dying, I sometimes think that it is my fault, but my father…not my true father, he would tell me it was only coincidence, so…"
What of it…my child, magic, I believe, your parents were both very powerful beings in their prime; do not fear this power, I will teach you to control it, once you come to me; that is.
"This is the final question" he forced back another cough. "How do I know you are not using me?"
I like you child…and I need you, far more than you need me. The winds carried me here, and they will take me away; is that good enough?
Did he have a choice? Even the smallest hope for survival was enough to persuade him.
"Yes, I swear that I will help you—tell me what to do"
Your mother, she had in her possession an orb—called the heart of Kandrakar; and your mother once was its mistress. It was…is trapped inside of her body, I need you Deimos; to go to her grave and take the crystal from her.
"My mother was a guardian of the veil?"
And you never knew. Surprised as you are; you must hurry, time is very precious to me, and by extension, to you; the orb will be in her chest; where her real heart should have been.
"This heart…will it free you?"
Oh yes my precious…and I believe that only you can wield it. So you must hurry, it is the key to our survival.
And so, gingerly, stumbling along the untried route; Deimos made his way to his mother's graveside.
…
…
The words carved into the stone had already started to disappear. He could scarcely make out the writing even when he came closer.
Here lies Williamina Vandom,
Beloved friend, treasured wife,
Cherished mother; may she rest in peace.
Alongside her grave were four other equally crooked stones, as well as his father's. Or more accurately; the man he had lived with all those years.
The cemetery was practically overflowing with corpses; he still knew that it still was expected to give room; as there were many more bodies awaiting death.
'But I will not be one of them' he swore to himself. 'By the Winds I swear it'
…
He crouched above his mother's grave; preparing to dig.
No my child…you haven't the strength, concentrate…move it with your mind.
He obeyed, and to his immense surprise the wooden box emerged from beneath the ground.
"Mother…" he mumbled.
His legs were far to tired from the walk to do much of anything, so he had to crawl to the casket. Where, with bated breath, he tore open the top to reveal…
"Nothing" his eyes searched the scene before him. "There is no one here!"
Calm down child…look again, closer do you see it?
He did. The moonlight catapulted off the sides of the orb, and he watched; transfixed as he saw his own reflection upon its face.
He steadied his hand, and touched it. It felt warm, strangely so, when it came closer, it radiated the smell of blood.
…
…
He held the stone up to the dark night sky. Beautiful, he thought, beautiful; indeed; he had never felt so powerful before in his life. The pain in his legs had all but vanished, and the tiredness coursing through his body was now gone.
'And to think that my mother had this all along'
His eyes fell to the coffin, where once again his breath shook with surprise.
His mother.
Well at least…it looked as though it could be her.
A mere child, much younger than himself…with fiery red hair sprouting from her scalp lay in the box, dressed in an oversized white gown, which he recognized as being his mother's wedding dress.
She looked as though she were asleep. In fact, he had to pull his hand away from her face so as not to check for a pulse.
"What is this?" he asked to no one in particular; although it was Greydon who answered.
You took away the heart of Kandrakar from her…without it she is pure again, she has resumed the form of a child; this is probably how she looked before she was chosen as a guardian. I do believe we have done your mother a favor.
He could not take his gaze away. Surely this couldn't be the same woman who had always glowered at him with such hatred brewing beneath the surface of her eyes.
Surely…
He allowed the crystal to fall. It landed within the coffin, and passed through her solid frame, seconds afterwards, he watched, in disgust, as her flawless skin peeled off; her crimson colored hair fell—and she, faded away.
"Amazing" he said.
Power often corrupts. Now stop these games, it is almost dawn; we must hurry before someone notices your absence. Replace the body.
Deimos obeyed.
…
He didn't even pause to watch as the coffin was captured by the soil, he was far to consumed with running away from the cemetery…which was filled with the only thing in this life that he had ever feared.
Death.
…
The crystal in his hand, only just managed to capture the first bits of light calling to the dusk to leave the sky; and the dusk obeying the day's commands. He didn't care; he couldn't realize the significance of a new day.
No, he was far too consumed with leaving the dreaded past behind him, of escaping those horrible pains of childhood, he was far too enamored with what adulthood held for him.
Wealth, power, freedom.
He couldn't wait.
…
…
…
Above him the moon moaned at her dark carpet's farewell. Stubborn as she was, she wouldn't leave until the cries of the sun became far too unbearable to her fragile ears.
Even she had grown tired now; tired of all the pain, of all the suffering. It was too much, it was never ending.
She almost pitied the humans below her, knowing that for them, the pain was only just beginning.
…
…
…
When the cold moon rises on a blood rinsed sky;
When innocence is stolen from the eyes of a child;
When a heart so pure merges with one so cold;
When mothers scream 'til they are heard no more;
As evil spawns from a broken savior;
Only then shalt this world be covered in fear;
When evil shall evil reign on a throne of despair.
…
…
FIN
Author: Here now, I will address your questions and concerns.
Nightfall2525: Well, Phobos was always going to die, for him to become immortal…would have been, well…dare I say Mary Sueish.
It's a love story if you note that he sacrificed his life so that she could live a happier one. He knew that he could have never made her content, because they both would have had to watch the other suffer with the pain of the disease. Also, for Phobos to do this, when we know that in the beginning he was so obsessed with his power and mortality, it is truly a remarkable show of love.
Finally, by Phobos rejecting the Heart Of Kandrakar, an object that Will has always thought that people wanted her for, is also monumental. Again this shows true emotion. You see; you'll note that not all love stories have happy endings. I hope this clears things up, thanks for the review!
Here are some other things I wasn't asked about, but I figured would be confusing:
The prophecy, why was a union between Phobos and Will considered evil?
Metaphorically (I am a future English major) a union between a so called Good and Evil could never result, in my mind, in a happy ending. There can never be any peace between the two. One must conquer the other, and as you can see, their child is purely evil. I just embellished on this a bit to make the plot more interesting, after all I could only do angst for so long.
Caleb And Will's Relationship.
Caleb doesn't love Will, at the moment he loves all that she reminds him of, or more accurately, Cornelia. I didn't go too deep into their relationship before Will became Phobos' prisoner (I can't really stand WillxCaleb, and yes I realize that I have written two stories about them), but there was a little something there once. I don't think that it was serious; I think that Will was just using him, so that in her mind she would have something over on Cornelia.
Why all the death?
You can't have living without dying my children. I enjoy death, honestly, it fascinates me, I could see ghosts when I was younger and I've always held a fetish for the unknown. There's no real reason why everyone died. It's just that too many characters would have been difficult to manage, and this helped Will's character along.
What's with the children obsession?
This ties back to my idea about Good and Evil. To me children should represent purity and innocence. However, in Will's case this wholesomeness was snatched away when she became, at first tainted by power (the Heart Of Kandrakar) and then later by Phobos. So even though she is a child physically, mentally she is much, much darker.
Who is Greydon?
Well, I made a legend, since I realized that the veil must have been created for some reason. He is that reason, he created the prophecy, he was who restored Will's memories, and he destroyed the Oracles.
The son's name.
Phobos and Deimos are moons Mars, also in Greek myth they were brothers, still sons of Aries by the goddess of Love.
Will's middle name, and her mother's maiden name, are traditional Jewish names, since I've decided that Will should be Jewish. I explained Paris before, and Cadmus upon research turned out to be a guy who slayed Aries' sacred dragon and had to serve Aries for 8 years as penance. He was then given one of Aries' daughters to wed. Bummer, I should have named Caleb this instead.
The disease.
The disease mentioned, was the same disease that Phobos had. Remember him saying that he would give it to everyone, he succeeded. Will was killed by it, Caleb, wasn't (hehehe) but Caleb died when the magic keeping him alive was removed.
That's about it…so now here is the reviewers list.
Dedicated to:
Nightfall2525, well thank you for everything, I already answered your question and thanks for all the support.
SOMEONE2003, Yes, Phobos was a bastard, but a sexy bastard so all is forgiven.
ALPAUST, Thanks for the review!
Jnr Cpl Scarlett: Yes darling, this is for supporters like you. Hope that you liked it.
beginner150: Thanks again, for introducing me to this coupling!
chorse: You too chorse, thanks for the introduction!
Black RoseReina: Too bad about the sex thing, I'll email you an edited version if you want, but I don't know how much fun that'll be.
Mary: You're right there aren't enough fics about them, so I'm just doing my part to the community.
spaec: Thank you!
Willgirl: No, few people have seen a fic like this, and you never will again, hehehe. This just takes too long to write, I'll stick to one shots from now on.
Luisa Perez: Nastiness! No nastiness my dear, just pure simple hotness! It wasn't even graphic…my apologies of course if I offended you.
Wild Kage: Ahhh…thanks. I did have a nice day.
SerenBunny I got rid of the mystery stuff, too confusing, but you'll still like it, I hope.
Phobosqueen: Thank you so much for the compliments.
inufireThanks!
Veronica: Yes, it did rock, hey why did I edit this again?
Kaire: Thank you darling!
Kitsune6: Torture…me?
Petrafina Dantanko: Thank you for everything, my own mother has never said such lovely things about me. I appreciate them all by the way.
Crying Flower: Confusion is a good thing. It keeps the interest up.
Shadow19: I know, I could tell you about my ex…now he, he was evil, but so, so, very HOT.
InuhanyouLafiel: Thanks!
vegiegurl: Thank you!
Rkgrl: Refer to what I said to crying flower.
Sharem: But of course! And thanks!
Aria Ninja: Thanks for the review, and for reminding me of my duty.
Talya11: I never got your review, but thanks all the same!
Princess Musa: Yes, it's amazing what a cartoon network marathon can do for your imagination.
Dream Toxin: Thank you for everything!
Anime-AngelWings: We all love the drama.
Orinocono: Of course I thank you for the ideas and stuff, does this make you my aid?
cateye91: Thank you!
xoxox-passing by: Troy yes!
EnV: We're all crazy.
goldfish demon: Yeah, I liked Taranee…oh well…
Liberated Dragon: Wow, you're deep, really, really deep. Thanks for the comments!
psycogirl234: blushes thanks for clearing that up for me…
Lady Blackthorne: Thank you!
…
…
Disclaimer: I disclaim!