Warnings: Slash, yaoi, m/m, kings-on-princes or whatever you call it. You have been warned, there's still way out.

Authors Note: In the country where I live, we believe that goldfish is an animal which fullfills three wishes when fished out of the ocean and then set free again. Just so you won't go 'eek?' at one point of this story where the reference to this fact is used. But to say the truth, when my beta (dear Thairosebud, you can find her on deviantArt) told me that some parts of the world are deprived of three-wishes-fulfilling-goldfish-story I went through a shock :B Oh, and if you want to download the soundtrack to the story, remove spaces and go here: (http// rapidshare . com / files / 28785317 / )

Remember that even if this tale covers in dust because no one reads it and you will accidentally stumble over it in year 2010, I will still be here, waiting for your now, enjoy the story, my imaginary readers!

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Who do you think you are, you kings and princes, intoxicated with power, that you strut across the time and never listen to the voices? Admit that sometimes you too roam lost in your own murk. Your reign is not eternal. After all you are not gods. And those who once told you that there’s nothing for free in the world, were right once again.

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Three Days

-The Prologue-

If you could exchange long life, peaceful old age and a happy ending for thirty years of unimaginable and sensual command, what would you choose? And what is the meaning of one life compared to the absolute, even if short-lived power over thousand of others?

But in return for that little while, darkness demands sacrifice.

Those whom it comes to love, it deprives of everything, leaving only a brief part of existence and when even that short moment ends Darkness Lords die; just like humans and snowflakes do, when we try to seize them in our hands. Their names disappear along with them, for nothing that once belonged to the shadows can be remembered by the world.

After names vanish, echoes of their deeds turn into memories, a dream about somebody’s life, only by chance dreamt once, by the whole world. In that dream, there is no room for yet another nameless demon.

But despite all that, the dark will always be the offer not to be rejected; a gift and turn of good fortune, for those whom it distinguished from amidst so many others.

Annihilation for the rest.

Because, the one favored by the night can change and shape the world, according to his will. Curse the moon, and cast shadow on the sun. Patch up twisted fates or fling souls into the gloom. If only he wills to.

In the heart of the Darkness Lord pounds the blackest night, avaricious twilight pulsates in his veins, and the only light that ever reaches his life is the rays of descending sun. However, it always arrives too late and only for one reason – so that just before his death the Darkness Lord can fully realize what he had lost.

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Every evening a blind demon silently perches himself in one of the dark corners of a tavern filled with the hubbub of voices. Regulars call him the storyteller because he tells them beautiful tales, but asked about their plot they suddenly cannot remember a word. And if you talk to them a moment longer, they just laugh and say that there never was any blind storyteller here.

But in spite of that, every night when they notice him, demons gather at his feet, enchanted.

Yesterday they were enquiring why his voice was so bitter and trembling with hatred, and today they have forgotten that he even existed; so once again they listen to the story, that flows from his lips like venom, convinced that they are hearing it for the first time.

The blind storyteller smiles into the darkness and whispers silent words into the gloom.

"This is a tale about the three last days of somebody’s life and I am glad that you will never ever remember it."