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His beloved was the sunbeam that fell through the top of his cave. His beloved was a river of honey. His beloved was eyes like a sunrise, thousands of different shades of pink and blue sparkling within them. His beloved was news and books from the outside. His beloved was an aventurine, a shimmering green jewel that he yearned to covet forever.
Veritas knelt before the statue. He had placed it so the solitary sunbeam would fall onto him when the sun rose. It was the most beautiful of his statues, he thought. The stone was interspersed with veins of gold and green, hints of more precious jewels within. He braced against his leg, and wrapped his tail around the statue’s base. His snakes were quiet.
“I miss you,” he sighed. “I miss you, my dearest Kakavasha. Won’t you come back?”
He stared down at him, his cruel, cruel lover. His lover, face forever frozen in shock, a hand half raised in a failed attempt to shield his eyes. His beautiful Kakavasha.
“I have been doing research, my dear. I believe I’ve found something that might work to bring you back. Tomorrow I will be out, looking for more information, so don’t get lonely while I’m not here.”
“I am…I am so sorry.”
***
Kakavasha watched the days go by. He marked the passage of time by the sunlight that fell through the cracks in the ceiling, watched as the beams rose and fell. He heard the rain as it splattered against him; felt as cracks began to form in his body. And yet he could do nothing but stand and watch.
He watched Veritas most days. The gorgon woke every morning with hope in his eyes, hope that perhaps in the night Kakavasha would have returned to normal. Every morning, he watched as that hope was shattered, watched as it was replaced by stony determination. He would leave, after that, and return home with countless scrolls and books; sometimes with accompanying wounds, too. He could only imagine the trouble he went through to get them.
“I really think today might be the day,” he said. He said that every day. “I went to the capital again today. A good selection, surely we should find something.”
He spoke to him, read to him. He paused for responses and nodded, as if Kakavasha said very intelligent things. As if the silence was filled with words other than his own.
In the night, he curled against Kakavasha’s legs, his head resting on his thigh. He had always liked when he did that before; he had felt safe within the gorgon’s hold. Now he felt nothing but the faintest pressure.
There was a rapidly eroding patch of stone on his thigh. It was where Veritas’ tears fell every night, the salt wearing him away. He wished he could talk to Veritas. Wished to tell him to stop searching, to stop reading. Wished he would let him go.
But he could say nothing. He could only watch.
***
“It has been a year since you’ve come to live with me, Kakavasha.” Veritas said one morning.
Kakavasha knew this. He had counted the sun beams every day, all three hundred and sixty five of them. He could no longer remember what the sun felt like beyond the faint warmth he gleaned. The occasional rainfall had carved a thin path down from his head to his shoulder where the water dripped off him.
Veritas raised to his full height to press a kiss to his stony lips. This close, Kakavasha could see the insanity that had replaced the hope in his eyes. His snakes jerked around, agitated. He was starving them, Kakavasha could tell. He was starving himself as he continued in this mad search for a cure that they both knew did not exist. He had loved him for his obsession, once.
“We should do something to celebrate. Stay right here- well, I supposed you have to. I shall bring you a surprise.”
He slithered out of the cave, and Kakavasha watched. And waited.
He returned with a garland made of clumsily picked wildflowers. Weeds, really. He draped it around his neck, and smiled at his own handiwork. “You look beautiful, my dear.”
“May we see many more years of domestic bliss.”
***
“I have found a solution, my love,” Veritas smiled. Finally. After years of searching, his beloved would be saved.
He sat at the base of the statue once more. Kakavasha was flaking, stone chipping away in parts to reveal more gold beneath. The garland he had placed for the recent anniversary was long since dried up, but he had forgotten to remove it. No matter; Kakavasha could remove it himself, when all was said and done.
He wasn’t the best looking either, he supposed. His snakes hung limply, unable to muster the energy to even try to dissuade him. A few of his scales had fallen off; hopefully Kakavasha would excuse the unkemptness.
He placed the implements before him. It was a simple enough spell. A knife and a vial of his venom. He wrapped himself around Kakavasha tightly, slithering up to give him one last kiss.
“I know you hate me,” he said. “I can see it in your gaze every day, the only part of you that ever changes. And I am so, so sorry. Would you forgive me?”
He poured the venom over the statue. “I apologise for the smell.”
Then the knife, pressed against his breast. He braced closer to Kakavasha; he had to ensure the blood would mingle with the venom. The knife sunk in easily, and his blood came in spurts. The beautiful statue, besmirched with his dirty blood. He hated to see it, but it would be worth it when Kakavasha returned. He hoped he lived long enough to see him return.
***
Kakavasha needed to scream. He needed to scream but he could not, he could do nothing but watch, watch, watch as Veritas killed himself for a cure that might work. He watched, always watching, as the knife sunk deeper and the blood gushed forth, covering him.
I know you hate me , Veritas had said. And he was right, for right now, in this moment, Kakavasha hated him. He hated him for doing this, for taking the easy route out and leaving him here. He hated him, and yet their memories stirred in his head. The memories they had had before all this; before their fatal mistake. He had loved him once, but that was gone. All that was left was blood on stone.
“I love you,” he heard Veritas whisper. Gradually, his body went limp, and he was left with the rapidly cooling corpse of his former lover draped over him. It would not work. He would be stuck here, forever watching, as Veritas rotted and rain fell and the sun rose, over and over and over and no one, no one would free him.
Veritas’ body began to sag. With nothing to hold him up, his weight began to pull Kakavasha down, and they both crashed to the floor. Even that did not shatter him; it simply sent ringing shocks through him. His skull shook with the reverberations.
He screamed, despite it all. His wails were trapped within the stone shell, bouncing back so only he could hear them. He screamed, and he watched, and he screamed.
There was no one to hear him.