Zarkenis Ultima wrote:---
The boy with hair white as snow slowly opened his eyes, finding himself in a familiar environment. And yet, despite finally feeling like he belonged in this place, he was utterly astonished by the sole fact that he was able to open his eyes, let alone feel them opening and be aware of their movement and of the thoughts that this produced. Now bewildered, almost frightened, the boy closed his eyes once again, clinging to the flawed reasoning that if he undid that which had brought him awake, then his consciousness would fade away as well. Alas, it was for naught, for he could still feel the cold wind chilling his fragile pale skin, and the snow falling upon his childlike face, and the beating of his little undying heart. He felt all of these things, and was aware of them, and still he desperately wished that he was not, that he was still in that sweet state of complete thoughtlessness that one could only be aware of by approximation. He tried to forget the glimpse he saw of snow and sky, but in the end, he saw his defeat in the form of an old voice that explained everything.
"I see that your awakening troubles you. I'm sorry for that." The once jolly man spoke. "Like I said, even I don't have enough power to grant you the one thing you wish for. Something like that is far beyond my ability. Even then, I wanted to give you some sort of reward for everything that you've done for the people of Earth every year during the holiday season. I thought that if I couldn't grant your wish, perhaps I could at least let you experience some things that you've never had... even if I could only make it temporary. I thought that it would be a nice thing to do, that you would enjoy it... but it seems I was wrong. It seems that this brought you more pain that I could anticipate. I'm deeply sorry for that, child." The voice concluded.
After hearing those words, the boy opened his eyes, which gazed out at the real world with weariness. Slowly he sat up, looking up at the old man clad in red who watched over him with eyes creased with worry. Necromancer then stood up, looking all around, and as he saw the world that he had always known, surrounding him once again, the full weight of his ever lingering despair made itself manifest once more. The boy's entire small frame began shaking as he clenched his fists, his knuckles going white. "Why..." He muttered softly, even though he now knew the reason which led the misguided old man to delude him and present him with something that he could never have. To see something like that offered to him and then taken away, however, it had a devastating impact, even on the hardened mind of the one who had lived for so long.
"I... I hope you can forgive me..." The old man said as he looked helplessly at the child, ashamed of what he had caused. Necromancer looked back at him, and the man from the North Pole could see small glints of light in the corners of his eyes, but the boy turned around abruptly, still quivering as he shook his head.
"N-no..." The boy mumbled. Even through all of this, he knew that the man's intentions hadn't been wrong. Of course, good intentions didn't matter; after all, the road to hell was paved with them. But even so, there hadn't been many that had genuinely wanted any good for him. Some of those who had aided him or treated him well before did so in hopes of taking advantage of what they thought to be a naive, gullible child and utilize his powers for their ends. Conversely, others did so in awe, in terror, hoping that that demon in the flesh of a young boy would not cause them harm. Others still did it because they were souls in his possession, or because they knew they would be one day. Few were those who showed him kindness without ulterior motives despite knowing what he was, like the girl who approached him in the park the day before. And this made him abstain from harming the old man, it made him temper his overwhelming emotions, for a while.
It made him lie.
"It's... it's not... your fault..." The boy rasped, the words barely leaving his throat as he raised his arm and covered his eyes with it. The man knew exactly what that gesture meant, and felt all the more sorry for it. But he had done what he thought right, and had apologized when it all turned out to be wrong, and so, Santa Claus could now do little more than watch as the boy ran away, leaving his footsteps imprinted on the fresh snow, before finally flying away from the North Pole on the back of that enormous grey dragon of his. As he observed all of this, he attempted to speak.
"Ho... Ho..."
He didn't have the heart to finish.