A candle flickers warmly in the dark; smoke tendrils genltly, ever so tenderly dancing away from the light and into the looming black void. Cold, empty breath seethes through the room, from teeth clenched tight and eyes blazing with hatred gained through pain. The cat-like eyes glower, staring into the candle-light, if not slightly annoyed by its heat. The smoke-fingers curve, thicken, shape, and for a moment he sees her face. The princess.
Her hands form from the smoke and reach into the darkness, reaching out, then falling into ash.
"Mina...I have crossed oceans of time to find you..." The hurt voice cries silently, a voice aged with centuries upon centuries of loneliness and everlasting pain.
The pretty, precious light is destroyed within the clench of a fist, wax dripping down and solidifying like blood. Never again.
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