Sage

Tick. Tick. Tick. A silver paintbrush swept softly over the canvas, tracing a pair of shell-shaped ears over and over again. A soft thrumming awakened, thumping like a heart beat. It ticked to the rhythm of the clock, growing louder and louder until it was almost deafening.
“Monsieur! Were you listening to anything I said?” an exasperated voice hissed, startling the artist to reality.
The painter scrambled to pick up his paintbrush, letting out a heavy sigh as he set aside his work.
“My apologies, I must have lost myself in the realm of imagination,” he murmured under his breath, his fingers itching to return to his painting.
“Nonsense, this piece has to be finished now! The auctions start in five minutes, and here you are dawdling in imagination nonsense. If I didn’t know better, I would say that you’re sketching a dragon in the shadows of the lilies!”
“Was I, indeed?”
“Why don’t you take a look yourself?”
The painter let out a hearty, yet nervous, laugh, peering at the corner of his creation. As he stared into my eyes, I couldn’t help but detect a glimmer of unbearable sorrow in his. As I tried to reach out to comfort him, he put his index finger on his lips, the corners of his mouth twitching to the faintest of smiles. Then, he whispered something so quietly that only I could hear.
“Goodbye.”
That was the last word he ever spoke, his figure fading in the darkness of the doorway. Gone forever...

My name is Sage, and this is my story. Dear reader, I wish to tell you all that I know, and I hope you have the patience to bear with me, for the next part is dark and twisted. Here, rest upon the lilies, and I will share with you my journey.

Now, I never knew the artist very well, but part of me grieved for his absence. It's as if I was linked to him in an explicable way. As I stalked through the grass, I felt the lilies quaking in my wake, petals scattering in the storm of my sorrow. Everywhere I wandered, the world flickered, blurring with slashes of auburn and blue. The artist’s voice kept echoing in my mind, haunting everything I saw. As I staggered to the river, I saw it run red like blood-red wine, it’s terrible scent suffocating me.
“Hello? Is anyone here?” I called out, shivering at the sudden chill I felt.
A metallic tang bathed my tongue, tasting suspiciously like blood.
Out of nowhere, a familiar voice thundered, “Gentlemen, put your glasses together for another successful auction! Let’s pray that there shall be many more.”
At the sound of clinking glass, a ripping sound tore through the silence. The reality I knew crumbled apart, and I remembered nothing more.

The sirens were still wailing, the cry ringing in my ear. I could still hear them all these years later. Oh, I remember the sight of those beloved lilies scattering on the marble floor. The blue sky was weeping, pooling in a lifeless pile of tears.
Treacherous ears, why are you still hearing? Treacherous eyes, why were you still seeing? Treacherous heart, why are you still beating?
I felt betrayed, empty, and alone. It was so very cold...

A flock of crows were circled me overhead, shrieking with wild glee. Perhaps they thought I was going to die, but I was wondering why I wasn’t already so. As I struggled to sit up, I found myself clutching a withered, black rose over the artist's grave. I did not know how much time passed, but I stood there, watching the crows circle closer and closer.
"Do you regret?" a strange voice sighed, breaking me from my reverie.
I whirled around in alarm, finding a fae with the strangest hat standing by my side. He was tracing his talons over the artist's name, waiting for a response. I hesitated, feeling at a loss of words.
"Yes, I feel that way sometimes too," he muttered, shaking his head. "If you could go back in time and change everything, would you?"
"Of course not!" I snapped, flaring my wings in anger. "What has come to pass was meant to be. I barely lived, and there's still so much to see and explore. You act as though I'm dead, and I-"
I broke off, choking back a sob. He looked at me with those brilliant blue eyes, seeming almost sorry for me as he draped his wings comfortingly over mine.
"Now, you shall awaken again," the fae murmured, lightly placing his paw over my heart.
There was a flash off light, and I returned to the waking world once more.

Eiskaffee. That's the fae's name.
It sounds extremely elegant, reminding me of higher society. Even still, he was no gentleman. It's silly to think this world has such a reminiscence of my past life. Indeed, the kingdom I emerged into was unlike anything I ever saw before. It was strange and riveting, yet quiet and peaceful.
Perhaps I was getting ahead of myself. I do love where I live in today, but it was a long time before I realized it.