They say that time flies by the older you get, that each year begins to pass in the blink of an eye until you finally realize the past is long behind you and the end of your days draws near.
Some people are driven mad by the revelation, scrambling to spend the time they have left in a way they deem worthwhile. Others learn to accept their fate, eyes closed as they embrace the unknown in hopes that, maybe, there is some kind of life after death. And then there are those who never cared to begin with.
For Solon, immortality was as much a curse as it was a gift to those who coveted it. Time was no friend of his—he who had walked this earth for over a thousand years, ruling over this gloomy forest that rung hollow with the memories of all he'd lost.
This crown of thorns he wore cut deep into his skin, reminding him that he would forever be a twisted monarch who bore the malison of a vindictive goddess, a gnawing hunger that would only bring ruin to those who got too close.
Despite all the times he'd lived through it, watching his love die never got any easier. Tragedy had left a permanent mark on his psyche, effectively killing the man he used to be.
In grief, he remained, waiting for her to return as the years dragged by impossibly, painfully slow, always hoping that this time things would be different. If he just tried a little bit harder, surely she would remember him. If he was patient, kind, and nurturing, she would grow to love him just as she used to and break this endless cycle of despair.
But even if there was love, loss was always quick to follow.
That was why Solon had snuffed out the humanity, the weakness inside of himself. The girl would be his, no matter the cost. Even if she screamed, or cried, or begged him, he would never let her out of his sight. By putting her under his protection, he would strip her of her freedom and agency entirely.
After all, his fated bride had no need of such things.
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He need not be told that his offering had arrived. He was the eyes and the ears of this forest, the god that presided over each and every root, branch, and trembling leaf within his domain. A shift in the air alerted him to the villagers gathering at the very edge of his territory, afraid to cross the threshold into that dark, haunted wilderness. Everyone knew that the beast who lived there had power beyond mortal means, and that of those who dared to venture inside, few ever made it back out alive.
Their fear smelled acrid, like sulfur and smoke, each one of them practically cowering behind the young woman who was thrust into the clearing with no chance to flee. But she stood braver than them all, shaking but determined, robbed of sight yet still so very perceptive. She smelled of honey and lavender, radiating pleasant pheromones that caused his nostrils to flare and his gut to roil.
Women always made the sweetest meals, so tender and fragrant. If she was not the one, then she would at least serve a purpose by filling his stomach and sating his bestial appetite.
He moved like moonlight through the canopy, emerging in monstrous form. Hooves dug into the dirt path leading into the woods, massive, jagged antlers scraping the trees where crows flew off into the night, cawing loudly as they fled. Despite the creature's staggering size of at least 365cm, it moved silent as a ghost, having traversed this terrain countless times before.
The villagers startled when they saw him, some immediately bolting back in the direction of their paltry settlement. Frozen in terror, the others remained, their human mayor among them.
In a trembling voice, the man addressed the monster directly, condemning one of his very own so readily for the sake of such fragile peace. Give the beast what he wanted, and the villagers would remain unharmed—all but one, that is. However, the minute any of them stepped foot into his woods, their fate was in his clawed hands.
Solon didn't say a word. He only stood there, waiting like a looming shadow as the girl in black walked forward, each step heavy with trepidation.
What could she be thinking in this moment? Did she think she would be killed? Eaten alive? Stripped bare and taken right in front of her people in the most painful, sickening of ways? The fear must have been nigh unbearable, but she still did it to protect the ones she loved.
How touching.
Twenty long, laborious steps brought her right before him, and she would soon be able to hear his slow, deep breathing from well above her. She was lucky not to bear witness to those glowing red eyes in their empty sockets, nor the reddish-brown stains that peppered his blackened fur, for such a nightmarish visage may very well have stopped her heart dead before he could even lay a finger on her.
One long, dark claw reached out and gently traced down from jawline to collarbone, testing her nerve. Observing her reaction, he paused, before slowly retracting the gnarled digit. Perhaps the fact that she was still alive was a good sign, or perhaps he was just getting the first taste of his new prey.
Bones creaked and groaned as the skeletal abomination changed before their eyes, shifting into the form of a human man. He was still a few heads taller than the village men, standing at a whopping 200 cm tall, not counting the added height of his horns. Even those seemed to have changed, taking on a much simpler shape than the long, twisting antlers the creature possessed.
Strands of long hair fell to his lower back, colored the same brownish-black as his fur had been, yet with bangs as blond as if they'd been bleached by starlight. Without a shirt, one could make out the smooth, ashy expanse of skin that covered his lean chest and biceps—everywhere except for his lower arms and legs which appeared to have been dipped in ink due to their deep black hue, almost like the flesh had turned necrotic.
Carmine eyes and pointed ears further hinted at his strangeness, qualities that separated him from normal people like them. But in spite of his quirks, he had an undeniable allure, blessed with the face of an angel and the body of a demon. If he'd been human, perhaps he could have charmed the village girls instead of causing them to run away screaming as soon as they laid eyes on him.
But that mattered not. There was, after all, one woman who had looked past his outer appearance to see the soul within. For her, he would move mountains and topple entire kingdoms just to prove his everlasting devotion.
Anything for his beloved.
Anything but freedom.
His gaze severe and scrutinizing, Solon stared down at the maiden, her own cast to the floor.
"Look up." He demanded in a sonorous tone, but he was not patient enough to wait long. If she did not obey, then he would capture her chin and tilt her head back at an angle, his eyes sweeping over those pretty pink lips, the only visible part of her face. He watched them for a moment, waiting to see if they would twist into a scowl or split open in a desperate cry for help. Neither would deter the beast.
With his other hand, he lifted the dusky veil from her eyes, draping it over the back of her head. Wisps of ivory hair tumbled out, lifted by the cold breeze that passed between them. He remembered that color so vividly, how it stood out against the greens and browns of his forest home.
One look into her eyes was all it took to jumpstart the heart he'd long thought to be dead and unbeating. Their striking lavender stirred memories of secret getaways, of joyful, chirping laughter more beautiful than any songbird's call. When he was without her, he felt cold and empty, like a husk that simply operated on instinct and routine to get through the day. For the first time in what felt like an age, his veins coursed with life, warmth flowing through him when she looked up at him with those eyes like flawless gemstones.
Here was his jewel, looking just like the day he'd first laid eyes on her all those centuries ago.
There was a flicker of softness in his gaze as he felt himself melting into her, his hand on her chin extending to cup her cheek between coarse fingers, feeling the velvety warmth of her skin. She was cold, but her body still radiated heat, and he could feel her racing pulse thundering beneath his touch.
Before he could get lost in the moment, Solon stilled, remembering that they had an audience still in attendance.
"Leave us." He spoke above her, addressing the group without looking at them. When some of the men hesitated, his gaze snapped to them, red like the burning sun. "Now."
They didn't have to be told a third time. Tails tucked between their legs, the mayor and his associates ran for the hills, not daring to anger the god of the forest. Certainly not after they'd seen his first form, that of a walking horror with jaws large enough to snap a man's neck in one bite.
When they were finally alone, he looked to her once more and did something unexpected. His body lowered as he took to one knee, kneeling before the sacrificial lamb like a knight swearing an oath to the princess. Even on the ground he was only a little bit shorter than her, a credit to his impressive stature.
"My morning star," Solon murmured, low and steady. When he glanced up at her, it was with an intensity like he bore the weight of the world on his shoulders. "My treasure. Tell me..."
Taking hold of her leg, he rested a large hand on the back of her thigh, his face hovering close as he inhaled her scent. She was pure, untainted by the evils of this world.
"Do you not remember me for who I am? Speak the truth for I will not suffer your lies."
It was always the same. The same question, the same answer every time. But maybe, for now, he just wanted to hear her voice, let the song of his little bird soothe him. There was no sweeter music in all the realm than her laughter, her cries, and the words that dribbled from her rose-tinted lips. Her presence was the only thing that could quell the storm inside of him, clear out the dark clouds on a rainy day.
In some ways, it only made it hurt all the more to be forgotten.
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