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In a world where dreams reflects one& #39;s deepest desires, Solomon dreams in black and white. It& #39;s not that he doesn& #39;t have anything he wishes for. He does, he does - but it& #39;s all so superficial. The darkest depths of knowledge. Magic. Power. What did any of that mean in the end?
Once upon a time he yearned for the truth of the world. He was the wisest man in the world, beloved of the Celestial Realm. Whatever he wanted, he took. He gave freely to his wives and his citizens; his counsel was sought, and his empire prospered.
But even he could not escape the ebb, the flow, of time. The hours and days and months and years - they stretched onwards, an endless road, and he marched towards his death, desperately seeking a way to extend the path. a shortcut. an alternative. anything.
Men were all poor in the end, for time was the scarcest resource in the world and even with all his riches, he could not barter with the Reaper. So instead, he found the next best option. A deal with Hell itself, a deal to keep himself from passing on to the afterlife.
Barbatos, a demon capable of altering time itself, whose powers lent him control over fate of mortals. A pact made and sealed with blood, and from then on Solomon had no reason to fear the dirge of funerals for he was immune to it now. Death could not touch him.
But what he gave in exchange was far more terrible than his soul. For one who could not die, a soul held little meaning. No, his pact was sealed with a promise - that for the rest of his eternal existence, he could find no genuine meaning, make no close relationships.
He was a lone human who walked the sands of time, always seeking an absolute, objective truth. In the beginning he thought there was no need for other people. He did fine without them. Relationships would only distract him, bring him down.
But quietly, undoubtedly, loneliness crept into his heart and his soul and before he knew it, centuries had passed and he had grown cold. he had forgotten the sound of laughter, the fire of rage, the prick of jealousy - he had forgotten almost everything that made him human.
was that an effect of the passage of time? were humans meant to quietly fade into the twilight - was his existence truly unnatural? he didn& #39;t know. and he didn& #39;t care enough to find out anymore. why dig deeper when he had no one to share the truth with? he was cursed to be alone.
but then one day he met a human in the devildom on an exchange programme. a mortal who was the complete opposite of him - naive, inexperienced, curious. oblivious to the workings of the world. he couldn& #39;t help but marvel at their blind idiocy.
no one in their right mind would willingly throw themselves into the embrace of demons. or so he thought. but there you were, foolishly bright, a candle flickering in the winds of their strength, and still you didn& #39;t back down - you raised your chin and stood with them as equals.
and most of all, you sank your nails into him and wouldn& #39;t let him go. you pestered him - because you were curious about the other human? because you simply couldn& #39;t keep your nose out of other people& #39;s business? he didn& #39;t know. he didn& #39;t want to know.
but a tiny part of him was intrigued by the defiance in your eyes. a tiny part of him wondered if you& #39;d care about his reason for existence. a tiny part of him wondered, as you went through the Devildom carving your touch into the demon brothers -
he wondered if you were special. if maybe, despite all his calculations and his predictions and his failures, there was one human in the world who could escape the grasp of Barbatos& #39; curse. who could one day bring him back to the light. who could breathe humanity into him again.
on that night, in his dreams, your face bloomed before him, longing in your eyes, a whisper on your lips. he couldn& #39;t understand what you were saying, your mouth moving soundlessly, that ever-present curiosity simmering in your gaze.
in a sea of black and white, your face was the only one that bled colour. he woke up, your name on his lips, his hands reaching out before him. but you weren& #39;t there.
fin.
fin.
