Category: heavy angst, a small tad bit of fluff ig
Synopsis: Given the reappearance of the Herald of Death, Ashveil was reminded of the love of his life who was brutally killed by his hands fifteen years ago.
CW: Planarcadia quest spoilers, reader death, depression, gore, PRE 4.1 (so backstory not canon)
A/N: I cried writing my own fic what the fuck. I was deciding on whether to use 3rd person or 2nd person pov and then when i decided, i used the 'replace' function on microsoft word to try to change the pronouns but then it changed EVERY WORD with "her" not just the word "her", like.. together changed to togetyour like bro wth so be aware of some rlly badly spelt words that I missed when proofreading this is also the longest fic ive ever written so pls read it
“I will take up Pearl’s offer, and join the Phantasmoon Games.”
The detective said with a certain hardness in his voice.
Ashveil and his assistant, Mr N stood by the river banks of Dovebrook District. Just earlier today, multiple corpses were found at the Synwish Syndicate’s headquarters in the Dovebrook District. Initial reports suggest violent infighting among gang members as the cause. All members of the Synwish Syndicate at the scene were murdered, including an IPC employee identified as Lyndon Skott. Stylised handprints were found at the scene, a signature mark left by the Herald of Death who wreaked havoc and killed many innocents during the last Phantasmoon Games fifteen years ago.
Mr N, who was perched on the railing shook his head.
“A dangerous decision, Mr Detective.”
The detective heaved a sigh and removed the white fedora from his head, holding it against his chest as his ashen eyes peered towards the reflections of neon lights on the surface of the river.
“Another person dear to me had died for the same reason, by the same person too. I refuse to let him bring any more harm.”
The Herald of Death has returned.
The very same thing that killed Ashveil's loved one fifteen years ago during the massacre that occured in Dovebrook District. That night was etched deep within Ashveil's memory, the scene playing out like a nightmare he could never forget... the chaos, the bloodbath, the sound of screams and the body he cradled against him, refusing to let go.
His heart ached as the bitter memory resurfaced, his blood burning hot and his chest tight from a pain he thought had long been suppressed.
The atmosphere was so tense that even Mr N, who typically could somehow read Ashveil's mind and lay all his thoughts out in sophisticated and detailed narration, was silent at this moment.
She was the only one Ashveil fell in love with.
Much before that horrid incident fifteen years ago, Ashveil was just starting to work on his whole detective business. He was quite broke (not that has changed in all these years) and fresh out of college.
To relieve his stress of getting no clients, Ashveil went to a bar near the central river of Dovebrook District. The bar was dimly lit, with a lively atmosphere filled with customers. Ashveil sat alone at an inconspicuous spot in the corner, nursing a glass of red wine.
As he stared down at his reflection on the surface of his drink, he couldn't help but recall the past few months. Ashveil had just graduated from the prestigious Graphia Academy and was already making a name for himself as a skilled detective, yet he had not been able to secure a single case to his name.
Just then, a voice, smooth like honey, rang from beside him.
A girl stood by his table with a wide smile on her face. She held out a notepad from behind her back,
Ashveil looked up, his train of thought momentarily interrupted by her voice. Surprised, he blinked, his gaze moving from the notepad in her hand to her face.
"Oh... thank you," he said, a little taken aback. Taking the notepad, he couldn't help but notice how her smile was like a ray of bright sunlight, piercing through the dim gloom of the bar.
He cleared his throat and tried to maintain his composure, but it's difficult when an attractive woman is standing next to you.
"Can I... offer you a drink? In exchange for returning my notepad."
The girl looked at him for a moment, her eyes twinkling with amusement, then nodded and said, "Sure, why not? But on one condition."
"You'd have to tell me your name!"
Ashveil chuckled softly, finding her request both unexpected and a bit charming.
"Fair enough. I'm Ashveil. And what might your name be?"
The girl replied as she sat down on the seat opposite to his.
"You have a beautiful name," he remarked in a genuine tone, his expression softening as he looked at her.
She smiled, a hint of a blush creeping onto her cheeks.
"Thank you. I suppose I could say the same for you, Mr. Ashveil," she teased playfully.
Ashveil chuckled, finding himself more and more drawn in by her carefree attitude. The weight of his earlier frustrations seemed to melt away the longer they talked. Ashveil ordered her cocktail. They sipped on their drinks and chatted, becoming closer in no time. As they talked, Ashveil discovered that she had quite the sense of humour, constantly filling their conversation with witty remarks and infectious laughter. He found himself getting more and more captivated.
“The Detective seemed to have been thoroughly captivated by the beautiful woman before him,” Mr N said, to which Ashveil nearly spits out his drink and covered the little monkey’s mouth.
Before long, Ashveil forgot about his worries and the passage of time. The world outside the bar seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in a private bubble.
After your first encounter, it was already determined that you would see each other again. And you did. Time and time again, you would meet at different places of Planarcadia and spend quality time together. Over time, your connection deepened, and you found yourselves meeting more frequently. Whether at quaint cafes, by the riverside as the sun dipped below the horizon, or stargazing at the top of the hill, your conversations were filled with laughter, stories, and unspoken affection.
Each time you met, Ashveil found himself feeling more drawn to You. Your cheerful demeanour, your carefree spirit, your captivating smile…
One night, under a sky painted with stars, you found yourselves on top of a hill just outside of Dovebrook District. The soft moonlight washed over you as they sat on the grass, your shoulders just barely touching.
"You know, Ashveil..." you began softly, your voice almost carried away by the gentle breeze. "...I've been meaning to tell you something."
“Y’know… you’re really funny and you take care of me a lot. I just think you’re the person dearest to me and I, y’know… I like you.”
Silence enveloped the space around us. Ashveil’s cheek grew hotter by the second.
“I- you…! Ugh… Listen, I like you too!”
He gently took your hands into his own, his heart beating faster. The next few moments passed like a blur. Fireworks went off inside Ashveil’s stomach as you kissed. Your warmth, your softness… everything about your overwhelmed his senses in the best way possible. When you pulled back, Ashveil leaned his forehead against yours and whispered with quiet sincerity,
“I think I just fell for you all over again.”
You spent your lives together in that run-down apartment complex he rented above the Furbocom Publishing House. Year after year, your affection for each other grew. Eventually, Ashveil found himself working harder as a detective to get enough money to buy an engagement ring. Ashveil threw himself into his detective work with newfound determination, taking on every case he could. He went through sleepless nights and endless hours of investigation, all in the name of gathering funds for that special ring.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ashveil managed to save up enough money for the engagement ring. It took a lot of sacrifices, lots of long all-nighters, and lots of cases, but nothing could compare to the excitement he felt as he walked out of the jewellery store with the box in his hand. The ring was beautiful, a simple gold band adorned with a sparkling diamond.
He was overjoyed. Finally, he could propose to you. But, no, he should take your back to that hill first. Or, he should take you to a nice restaurant... oh but he didn't have enough money. Ashveil scrambled his brain for some good ideas on where and how to propose to you. And so, he waited for another few days.
One evening, Ashveil finished his work with the Security Bureau at Duomension City and was making his way back home at Dovebrook District when he heard large commotions on the street. Ambulances and police cars rushed past towards Graphia Academy.
After asking around, he found out that one of the Supplicants of the Phantasmoon Games had run amok with his new power and massacred students who stayed back at school. The woman he asked from told him, “They say the monster is now heading towards Dovebrook District... oh dear... I hope no more people gets killed."
Ashveil felt his heart drop. Dovebrook District? His feet took off before he realised it. His heart pounded as he rushed back home. He had to make sure you were safe. The ring box in his pocket felt heavier with every step.
Meanwhile, whilst Ashveil was away, you decided to go out of the apartment to grab some food from the convenience store. You saw that they sold an instant hot pot and thought that Ashveil might want to try. As you were walking along the river side and was about to turn into a street, there were people who started screaming and running from behind you. As the panicked screams filled the air, you spun around to see a terrifying sight. A monstrous creature was tearing through the streets of Dovebrook District, its appearance a nightmarish blend of twisted limbs, jagged teeth, and blood-soaked claws.
Fear gripped at your heart as the Supplicant’s gaze fixated on you.
Your feet took off in an instant. You had to run back to the apartment... surely a monster this size won't be able to get in, RIGHT?!! You ran and ran. More people were killed along the way. Their bodies were horrid to look at. Some were stabbed, some lost body parts, some were even twisted in unrecognisable shapes like a paint tube. Your lungs burned as you ran. The sound of your heart pounding and your own pants were so loud they drowned out all other noises.
Just as you were about to reach the building, you tripped and something sharp pierced your back.
The sudden pain was overwhelming, searing through your body like a hot blade. You let out a yelp and fell hard to the ground, the impact jolting through your spine.
As you tried to prop yourself up on your arms, the world started to spin around you. You could feel a warm liquid dripping down your back, and the sharp object embedded in your flesh felt like it was on fire.
You forced your eyes open, your vision blurred and unfocused. You tried to move, to crawl closer to the apartment, but the pain was too much. You let out another pained cry and collapsed back down onto the ground, your hand curling weakly into a fist.
You couldn't die here, not now! Ashveil was still away, you couldn't just leave him like this! You mustered up the strength to push yourself up by the arms, yet you couldn't even stand up before another sharp pain sparked from your back as you were stabbed again.
The pain was excruciating, sending waves of nausea coursing through your body. You slumped back down, your vision darkening at the edges. "Ashveil," you whispered faintly.
A scream from down the street caught the Supplicant's attention. It pulled out of you and ran away, towards another innocent victim. You were left there, with two massive stab wounds on your back and a puddle of your own blood forming around you. It was so hard to breathe. Whatever that thing stabbed you with, it had pierced your lungs... it hurt so much to even breathe.
"Ashveil..." you whispered painfully again, "I'm so sorry..."
Hot tears rolled down your cheeks and onto the concrete of the road, into the puddle of your own blood.
You could feel consciousness slipping further away, your body growing heavier by the second.
A weak hand twitched toward the street as if you could will Ashveil to appear there and then. Your voice came out in nothing more than a ragged exhale, "Ashveil... I love you so much... plea..."
Before you could even finish, you felt your vision plunge into darkness. Your body fell limp. Your pupils dilated and consumed the light in them. Your last thoughts were filled with images of Ashveil… his smile, his touch, his voice. It was a cruel and unfair end. You still had so much to tell him, so much to share, so much to experience together.
Atlas, fate played a cruel joke on you and ripped your life away right then and there.
Ashveil finally made his way to Dovebrook District. He was panting and his heart was speeding. He had to find you. He moved on through the alleyways, his eyes darting around for any sign of the one he was desperately searching for. His mind filled with dread at the thought of what horrors could have befallen you.
He pushed himself to run faster, his eyes wide in desperation. He needed you. He couldn't lose you. He refused to lose you.
When he reached the street where his apartment is located, he saw a singular body just before the building, surrounded with blood and two massive stab wounds on its back. The scream of your name tore from his throat as he ran towards you and collapsed onto his knees before your body.
He finally managed to lift his trembling hand to touch your cheek gingerly.
Your skin, once soft and warm, now felt cold and unmoving.
Ashveil inhaled a sharp, ragged breath as the realization washed over him like a tsunami, a force so powerful and overwhelming that he felt like he was drowning in despair. Ashveil pulled you close to him and rocked back and forth slightly, his grip on you never loosening. He buried his face into your hair, breathing in the faint scent that was solely yours. It was a mix of soft sweetness that was so undeniably, uniquely yours.
His hands trembled as he ran his fingers through your locks, a silent plea on his lips, please wake up. Please! Hot tears rolled down his cheeks. He refused to believe that you were dead. But the cold reality of your lifeless body against his own was a brutal reminder that you were truly gone.
Mr N perched beside Ashveil, silently watching his detective desperately cling to the love of his life. All his training, all his skills, all the years he'd spent working to protect people…and he was too late to save the one who mattered the most.
He looked up at Mr. N through tear-filled eyes, a desperate plea in his words. "Tell me this is a nightmare," he whispered hoarsely. "Please...tell me this is just a bad dream, and I'll wake up soon."
The monkey lowered and shook his head slightly.
"I was supposed to keep you safe," he repeated as he turned to your lifeless face, his voice breaking with pain.
Ashveil could no longer speak, he could only cry, clinging futilely on the body of the one he loved most.
Ashen Detective Agency was closed. No matter what clients said or paid to try to hire him. He refused. Mr N could only watch as Ashveil locked himself inside his fridge (bed), and sob quietly while clinging to himself.
For days on end, Ashveil remained in that state. Locked away in a world of his own, lost in grief and guilt. He refused to see anyone. He refused to work. He refused to eat, to sleep, to do anything but lay curled up in a ball, his eyes red and swollen with tears.
Mr N was at a loss. Ashveil was shutting down, and neither logic nor comfort seemed to have any effect.
One night, as Ashveil lay in the cold embrace of his fridge, too numb to feel the chill or even register his own body, Mr N did something drastic.
The monkey grabbed a bottle of whiskey from Ashveil’s hands and pried it open with sharp teeth, dumped half its contents onto Ashveil's chest before tossing the bottle towards the wall and smashing it.
"Get up," Mr N said, voice uncharacteristically harsh for a monkey so small. "...She wouldn’t want you like this."
Ashveil sniffled before speaking in sorrowful tone.
"I was gonna drink that..."
"You're welcome," Mr N retorted bluntly in response, completely ignoring Ashveil's attempt at jest. The monkey looked exhausted. The dark circles under his normally bright eyes spoke of numerous sleepless nights spent worrying over his best friend. Even his usual narration was nowhere to be seen.
"You're killing yourself," Mr N said, "You're letting yourself rot and waste away in this apartment, Mr Detective."
Ashveil rolled over to not have to see Mr N. Tears rolled down to stain the pillow he laid at the bottom of the fridge.
"Just let me die with her..."
“No.” He hopped up into the fridge and jumped on Ashveil’s body, forcing the detective to face him.
"Just leave me alone..." Ashveil croaked out, trying to turn away again, almost like a child. Ashveil lifted his hands to cover his face as more hot tears rolled down his cheeks. He wanted to die so badly. He had lost the very thing he kept going for. What was the point?
"I can't just forget about her.." Ashveil sobbed. He lifted a fist and weakly hit it against his forehead.
Seeing that Ashveil refused to listen to him, Mr N hopped out of the fridge. Ashveil thought the monkey was finally going to give him some alone time when he hopped back in again, with a drawing in his hands.
Mr N lifted the drawing. It was a sketch of Ashveil, done by you a while ago. The Ashveil portrayed there was almost nothing like the one now. The man sketched out by graphite, smiling, happy and cheerful to be the subject of a drawing done by the love of his life.
Ashveil's sobbing paused as he looked at the sketch.
For a second, it was like looking into a mirror of himself from another life, before bloodstains and loss had put him into such a sorry state. His hands shook where they hovered over the paper, terrified to touch it and ruin such a pure thing with his broken self.
"That's the Ashveil she wanted you to be," Mr N pointed at the drawing.
"She wouldn't want to see you rot yourself away because of her death."
Ashveil had to swallow a sob. His eyes prickling with fresh tears as he hugged the sketch close.
He knew Mr N was right. She wouldn't have wanted to see him like this.
"I...I miss her so much," he managed to choke out.
Mr N hopped out of the fridge again before tossing a set of clothes at Ashveil.
"Go change, Mr Ashveil. We're going to visit her."
Atop the twilight hill just outside the Dovebrook District, where the first confession was made years ago, sat a solitary gravestone. Ashveil and Mr N each carried a bouquet of flowers and laid them before the grave along with all the other bouquets. A gentle breeze blew past, carrying his hair in the wind. Ashveil fished the ring box out of his pocket and looked at with a sigh. He never sold the ring even though the person it was meant for was no longer alive, even though he needed to money to survive.
He swallowed thickly, a new wave of tears threatening to spill over.
"I miss you. Everyday," he said "I know I've been… I haven't been taking care of myself lately...been too busy wallowing in self-pity."
He let out a soft, bitter laugh.
"I guess I'm not a very good detective, huh? Can't even bring myself to get out of my own bed."
"I've never felt as joyful as I did when you came into my life. You were always the one who cheered me up, motivated me and loved me when I believed nobody else did..."
Ashveil lowered himself on one knee before the gravestone and flipped opened the ring box.
"I wanted to ask this question for a long time. And I deeply regret I was never able to ask you this when you were still able to give me an answer. But... will you marry me?"
Silence enveloped the area, only the sounds of leaves rustling and the chirping of birds could be heard.
Ashveil let out a soft chuckle before closing the ring box and placing it before the grave.
"You can take however long you want to think of an answer. No need to pressure yourself."
Ashveil wiped a tear away from his cheek before placing a hand atop of the rough gravestone.
“I just want to see you again.”
Just as his hand brushed along the gravestone, a warm hand covered his. His breath hitched as he turned his head, only to see you. Your ghostly form flickering beside him. Your hand was translucent but real, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears as you stared at him.
Mr N let out a squeak before promptly fainting backward onto grass behind him.
You opened your mouth to speak, yet no noise came. Your phantom figure leaned forward and encased Ashveil in a hug. When Ashveil reciprocated the hug, your figure slowly dissipated away.
Ashveil sat there in stunned silence. He had seen your face and felt your touch one last time.
Ashveil smiled. That silent answer you gave him before your dissipation...
"Alright, I'll keep going for you," he whispered.
Mr N finally came to behind him, blinking rapidly as he took in Ashveil's face. Ashveil stood up and turned towards Mr N.
"...You," the detective said, "owe me so much whiskey after this."
"Mr Ashveil, I had only just woken up and you're already pressing me for dept." Mr N grumbled before hopping away towards Dovebrook District.
Ashveil smiled, gave one more look towards the grave behind him before following Mr N back home.
Now that the second appearance of the Herald of Death has occurred, Ashveil was determined to enact vengeance. For both you and for Caustide. His expression hardened as he pressed two fingers to his temple.
“Mr Ashveil? If you’re calling now, may I assume you’ve accepted my offer?”
“I’ll join the games, assuming you still need me, of course…”
What only consoles the dead, is only justice.
