Author: Cyhirae
Notes: An honest question to you all...Which is better if you are immortal? To be open even if it means pain...or to stay closed and protect your heart?

And thank you, first reviewer (I'll put your name if you want me to) for pointing out my mistakes. I didn't know that the Black Sword and Bright Shield didn't grant eternity- but I did know about Leknaat. oh the things you forget at 5 am....

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-=Eternity=-

A slender hand lightly dips a quill into the ink well...then hesitates over the parchment. A solitary figure glances out the window a moment- then sighs and begins to write, face hidden behind a fall of brown bangs.

Eternity..it's not a word most people honestly think about. Who has eternity after all? No one, right? People live and they die- it's the oldest cycle known to man, dwarf, kobold or elf...

But those who bear Destiny's burden- those who find their hands marked with the most ancient and powerful runes....They look at eternity no matter where they choose to rest their gaze. They are taken from the cycle, and instead must watch it repeat..endlessly taking away those they love and befriend....

There can only ever be twenty seven of us. Or so the theory goes. Those runes that are split bring more to our numbers however...I will have to ask Lady Leknaat some day just how many of the True Runes have been split. How many of us are there really? People meant to die who never do...

Let it never be said endless life is a blessing. Eternity.... Eternity is nothing but a curse.

In recent years, I have watched our ranks decrease by one- but one did not delay long to rise and take that one lucky one's place. Ted..one who had forgotten after a time just what sort of burden those of us cursed with these runes hold and who tried to reclaim a normal life for a time. Three hundred years of wisely keeping people at bay gone for the sake of a friendship that was the end of him.

And now his replacement...the new master of the Soul Eater, Tir McDohl...he's making the same mistake. He continues to live among those who must one day leave him. He continues to travel with Gremio by his side...even as the man proves he is quite past his prime and slowly begins to fail. He is a fool. Friendship is not something one of us can afford...not with anyone of that sort.

This is the newest one who shares eternity with us now. A fool used by Lady Leknaat to carry out ancient prophecies few understand...and always walking on a path covered with tears because he will not learn. He will cling to his companions, to his friends, even as time whitens their hair and wrinkles their skin and takes them away little by little... It seems they all do. From the Lord of the Dragon Knights to this newest one- how can they be willing to hurt?

Why do they want a fleeting moment of joy that will only open the door to an eternity of pain and loneliness?

The pen hesitates a moment....then dips lightly into the well and continues its flowing scrawl acrossed the page...the figure silent but for the scrape of the quill over the parchment.

I am seen as brattish by this one and those who will only bring him grief in the end. A bitter grief to shatter what few joys he will experience. Memories are cruel things, easily twisted from good to ill by loss. How can they think to judge me when they don't understand me?

I would rather look on the world with cold eyes and a closed heart. Walls don't feel pain, curtained windows protect what's within from the sun's damaging light. I have an eternity to see it...an eternity to watch people be born, grow, and die. Important at times, but in the end history will forget them. I have heard Lady Leknaat speak of many people from her younger days- important people- whom I've never heard of.

Will that be me someday? Will I be the one to tell some young apprentice of the Fall of the Scarlet Moon empire- only to be met with an uncomprehending gaze? Powers above, that frightens me. And the thought of all the people who will have died in that time....

They say wars are cruel and harsh, but nothing can ever beat Time in that. Wars claim far fewer lives than it does. Perhaps, when it finally reaches it's end, Time will even claim those of us who bear the True Runes...who can say? But those whom Time will take....I don't want to know them. I don't want them near.

"If you never say hello, you won't have to say goodbye". I don't know who said that, but they were so right. A meeting is only the prelude to a parting...often an eternal one. One will continue while the other must die. It is lonely...

The pen pauses once again...the figure leaning back in the chair to stare about the room. It's a beautiful but cold place under the moonlight spilling in through the window...all blues and silvers in the walls and floor...

Beautiful....and so empty....

....It is very lonely....

But better a heart that has only an inkling of the pain other fools will spend their eternity with. I envy them their friends, their laughter...and one day, they will envy me my coldness, my distance. I keep everyone away...and by doing so I keep pain away...

Isn't that the better path?

The pen leaves the parchment and is set beside it. Luc scatters sand to catch the excess ink before it blurrs the words...and silently reads over what he wrote. He looks out to the distant moon hanging in a sky just clouded enough to hide the stars, then lightly pushes the chair in and leaves the room.

All is silent for a time, then Leknaat enters the room, approaching the book. Her clouded eyes stare ahead as her hands brush the pages...she does not need to be able to see- not with her eyes or with Sight- to know what lies on them. If not the words- then bitter feel of them, lingering in the room behind the boy. She sighs softly and nods to herself...Luc never looks back these days- thus she doubts he will ever read what he has already written until much later in life. And by then...she's certain he will understand.

The pen drifts into the air, held by an invisible hand as it slowly draws out her thoughts for her, even as she speaks the words it must scribe.

"To those who read what this embittered child has written: learn the reality of the immortality so many of you crave. It is a bitter and lonely existance- but not all of us with these cursed lives need chose to live it as he has. He is young, and his youth makes him blind to life's simplest joys which can make even eternity worth living.

Power and eternity will always come at a hefty price...how heavily you pay it is your own choice...."

The pen drifts to the desk's top again- and the old seer leaves the room...leaving the words to blurr or stay as they will. Perhaps they will not survive times march as Luc's more carefully preserved words...But in which hold the greater truth?

~fin~

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I suppose this fic is a bit of a theory about WHY Luc acts the way he does...not sure what I was thinking when I wrote it. Hope you enjoyed it!