Once upon a time...

The Past

"So that's it?"

The wizard laughed softly. His dark hair was already slightly graying, but the fire still burned in his dying eyes. "That's probably it," he confirmed.

He died.

Cheated. Betrayed by the one he loved.

His rival, friend, lover smiled. A cruel smile. "That's it." He nodded and knelt before the dying man. "And I won. My dear, I told you."

The wizard smiled bitterly. "Did you?"

"Back then." The man he no longer recognized sighed. He shook his head and looked at him thoughtfully. "When we were still young and innocent. It's me who will win in the end. My dear, I have told you. Again and again. Just because you’re the older one doesn't mean you're right in the end."

"Hm." The dying wizard looked up at the sky. It was a dark night. He hardly saw any stars. The moon was hiding. The wall on his back felt freezing cold.

His undoing, once his EVERYTHING, grimaced. "Maybe you need a fresh start? Another chance? To understand me? Haven't I given you an infinite number of chances? You are stubborn. Then as now. But I won, as promised."

"That's what you said, yes," murmured the dying man. "How nice for you that you were right." A new beginning? His field of vision blurred, but he didn't want to give up yet. There was something else he could do. Did he still have enough strength?

"I loved you, but you betrayed me!" grumbled his murderer. "You could have shared my ideals. Stubborn. I really loved you. Infinitely."

"And I love you..." The dying man smiled. They were his last words. He felt his magic do its last job, then he was gone.

His murderer looked at the dead body with remorse. A tear rolled down his cheeks. He sighed and shook his head sadly. "Why could you never understand me?" he asked the dead. Magic shimmered on his hands. He smiled.

Dead eyes looked up at the sky. "Look at me!"

The murderer bent over the dead man, hoping to be reflected in his eyes, but there was something else reflected there. Shooting stars lit up the sky. "You don't deserve SUCH a sight!" He closed the dead man's eyes, while the magic he summoned glowed brighter and brighter. "I have to move on, my dear," he whispered in the dead man's ear. "Don't worry. We will see each other again. And then everything will be as it should have been."

His smile faded as his spell met another. Weak magic. The magic of the dead, their last spells, was always weaker than those of the living. "You must have cast that silly spell with your last breath!" He snorted angrily.  "Good, stand in my way! But it is in vain! My spell is stronger. This little hurdle is NOTHING!"