Songfic! The lyrics belong to Sonata Arctica's EXCELLENT "My Selene"

I don't own Orphen, or the song. Odd couple, I know. But it could work

My Selene

He knows she will come tonight, as all the other nights since they promised.

Nocturnal poetry,
Dressed in the whitest silver, you'd smile at me
Every night I wait for my sweet Selene

Reglamentary long gown, crimson riveted navy blue uniform, metal pendant against his chest, and all of that messed up by the midsummer breeze that has been incessant since late afternoon, and gliding with some sort of supernatural rhythm under a silvery glow that comes from the unclouded moon.

But, still, it rains, it rains silver too, because the moonlight is pouring along with the water. Above his head there's a stormy sea of clouds that are shaped according to the squalls' will, and the lone isle of the lonely, perfectly round full moon rules over it all.

Soaked from head to toe, he knows she can't take much longer. Showered in a radiant aura formed by the faded silver beams and the unforgiving rain, he's just going to wait, as the legend said ages before them, as promised by both when they chose to live rather than forget.

Solitude's upon my skin
A life that's bound by the chains of reality
Would you let me be your Endymion?

The man who fell in love with the moon would sleep by day and wake by night to be by her side.

Hartia hasn't gone as far because by day he doesn't sleep, or is it because their kind of bond is different? Because their enchantment is of another kind? The moonlight is the only thing to make those yellow flowers bloom and then they can meet. She lives in the flowers.

She lives in the moonlight.

She is the moonlight.

Hartia, he's her Endymion.

I won't bathe in your moonlight, and slumber in peace
Enchanted by your kiss in forever sleep

Somehow, they both know she should be dead. In fact, she's dead. Only that she's not. Hartia, in all his wisdom, only knows that the only thing for certain when it comes to her is that she is. That he most certainly most probably loves her. The silver rain falls in a mute waltz down upon the field ablaze with undying flowers, opening to full blossom under the chaotic sky.

She's coming, he feels it on his skin. Their legend, their own carefully crafted legend, comes alive when light is gone, for sure, for the night. Each night.

And she, his Selene, comes to him like a morning when the morning ends for sure and a whole night before the following begins.

Bit by bit... Slowly... the moonlight projected on the golden flowers starts forming her figure, she comes out of the rain, in the rain.

But until we unite
I live for that night
Wait for time
Two souls entwine

In the break of new dawn
My hope is forlorn
Shadows, they will fade
But I'm always in the shade
Without you...

Hartia smiles warmly at her, takes her fragile figure in his arms, feeling the scent that comes from her wet figure- the scent of what is almost like a divine vision, what feels like the whole field of flowers concentrated in one point. He won't say he didn't miss her.

He honestly lives his days waiting for the night, but everyone stopped worrying about him some time ago. He knows it, but does he look like he cares? He lives for his almost spiritual feeling. His love, his moon- his... It's her role in the legend, his immortal Selene. His beautiful, fiery-haired Selene, clad in the purest silver...

"Esperanza..."

Serene and silent sky
Rays of moon are dancing with the tide
A perfect sight, a world divine

And I...

The loneliest child alive
Always waiting, searching for my rhyme
I'm still alone in the dead of night

The sky is enraged, and the rain isn't stopping.

But there's the other sky, that is there only to prove it fits in his heart. And the sky- that sky- is calm, dark, beautiful, unreachable, and pure.

Silver.

Enchanted. Enchanting. Like her.

Silent I lie with smile on my face,
Appearance decieves and the silence betrays

Their promise was sealed in blood, and he knows seeing her has its price. But it's only fair, when life, in general, isn't fair. His part of the deal is always kept.

What's pain, but a sort of fee for them to meet? She doesn't know that, she needn't, and she won't. It was his decision to make. It was his choice to keept it that way.

It was never an obligation to bleed for her.

But he does and he doesn't mind it, and he will for as long as his blood keeps her alive in those innocent yellow flowers.

In the end, he knows it's only fair. He'll bleed the water for the golden fields every new moon if he has to, the only nights he isn't allowed to see her. It keeps them both alive, and he has no regrets.

"Hartia," she says softly, with her beautiful voice ringing clear and musical, "Hartia, have you been spazzing out again because of this?"

She asks, and makes him laugh.

"Of course."

As I wait for the time
My dream comes alive
Always out of sight
But never out of mind

And under waning moon
Still I long for you
Alone against the light
Solitude am I

"You know how lonely I get when I'm not with you, silly," he admits.

"Oh, I wish I did," she quickly retorts, nesting against his chest to feel him close, something the rain is draining away. The downpour is washing his warmth away, but there's some sort of electric feeling to her touch that keeps him satisfied. He isn't cold. He could never be.

In the end, I'm enslaved by my dream
In the end, there's no soul who'd bleed for me

Hidden from daylight, I'm sealed in my cave
Trapped in a dream that is slowly turning to a nightmare
Where I'm all alone
Venial is life when you're but a dream
The book is still open, the pages as empty as me...

But until we unite
I live for that night
Wait for time
Two souls entwine

In the break of new dawn
My hope is forlorn
We will never meet
Only misery and me

This is my final call
My evenfall
Drowning into time
I become the night

"Hartia... all this... it's real, isn't it?"

"Of course it is..." he says into her hair, smiling a reassuring smile she doesn't see. They're lying on the field of yellow flowers. By the morning, the imprints left by their bodies on the beautiful mattress will have faded into a new uniformity, awaiting the following night. And the following. And the rest of their neverending lives, because his blood keeps both of them alive, and them, the new Selene and Endymion, become the moon, become the night.

The redhead hugs her closer. "Why wouldn't it be?"

She shakes her head. "I don't know, not any more."

"It's ok," he thinks, "I'll never run out of blood to keep this alive. It's good. It's forever."

By the light of new day
I'll fade away
Reality cuts deep
Would you bleed with me
My Selene

The delicate yellow petals, slowly, with the pass of the years, begin sporting little red dots...