Silver Dagger: Eternity

It was an invitation to lose eternal life but gain eternal love. She stared at it, dark eyes unblinking, and it glinted back at her defiantly. The silver blade seemed to be magnetic, pulling her into its cold embrace, inviting her to cross over into the realm of eternal darkness. She took a half-step towards the dagger, drawn to it like a bee to nectar. Its smooth, sharp edge gleamed, winking wickedly, as if it knew a secret she did not.
Trembling, her long and elegant fingers trailed over to touch the cold silver, to give in to the temptation. But her fingers thought otherwise; instead of picking up the dagger in one swift movement, they swiped it away. The silver blade fell from the glass table onto the marble floor, clattering. The sounds echoed in the impenetrable darkness, closing in around her, voices whispering for her to pick it up.1

She panted, her breathing rugged. The sharp edge of the silver dagger glinted, reflecting her face. Though in the blackest darkness, she could still see the caution spread over her features, and the faint hint of fear. A half-smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She, an invincible, eternal being, afraid? She resisted laughing aloud with all her willpower; she did not fancy hollow laughter resounding back to her.
The whispers increased in volume; they had never ceased.
“Join us, and join your love.”
“Last crossing into the darkness and he’s yours forever.”
A scream pierced through the air, breaking the cold, terrifying silence. It was a moment later when she realized that it had come from her. She laughed hysterically, laughing at herself, laughing at the whispers, laughing at the offending dagger. They were laughs of a madwoman, crazed and scared. 2

The short dagger glowed, a dim ghoulish blue light pulsing rhythmically. She noticed of course, and her laughter died away immediately. The bursts of light followed her heartbeats, going faster and faster. Enraged, she gave it a powerful kick, one capable of felling an ancient, sturdy tree. It flew into the deep corners, far, far from her. Her hopes of putting it out of sight vanished; with her enhanced vision, she could still see the dagger, the glows racing along with her heart. She screamed again in frustration, and terror. It mocked her, a small silver dagger mocked her! A rational spoke out in her voice, clear in the madness.
“Breathe in, breathe out. Chill. Pull yourself together. Lilyienne. Is it so hard? To join Hades in the Underworld? He won’t kill you, oh no he won’t, ’cause you’ll be dead already. Derrien is waiting for you, hopefully in the Elysian Fields. Do it, get it over with, and join him forever. You’ve crossed so many realms, now it’s time to cross into the last one. Go for it, Lilyienne, Derrien’s waiting.”3

Memories of her past engulfed her, and she buried her head in her arms, sobbing quietly, reminiscing.
***
She grew up as a goddess, the daughter of Persephone, granddaughter of Demeter. No one knew of her heritage, save for her mother, and the identity of her father remained a mystery, though many suspected Hades.
But a wonderful life could never last.
During her birthday one year, perhaps her sixteenth, angels descended to her home and dragged her to Heaven. It was not because she was a holy spirit, but because she was an angel. She cried, bewildered and helpless, throughout her first crossing from Olympus, residence of gods and goddesses, to Heaven, world of the angels.
Life in Heaven was strange and very different from that in Olympus, but slowly, she adapted to this new life in the realm of prolonged time, though she could not accept the things around her. Her newly-sprouted wings were a source of wonder for her, and it was with them that she left. She missed her mother and grandmother terribly but permission was never granted for a visit. Yearning for them grew, until it was unbearable. One day - night being nonexistent in Heaven, realm of the eternal holy light - she eluded the angel-guardians, returning to Olympus. 4

Barely reunited with her family, hellhounds appeared, claiming her and bringing her to the Underworld before Hades.
“Lilyienne, Persephone’s daughter…” he murmured, caressing her face. She was repulsed by this strange and frightening creature but relaxed at his gentleness.
A bright flash against the darkness. Holy light filled the Underworld and feathery wings appeared.
“Derrien…” Lilyienne breathed.
She was consumed by the light, welcomed by a fierce but smiling face. The god of the dead let her go unwillingly, clinging onto her to the last moment.
Olympus to the Underworld and back to Heaven.5

Heaven again. Her efforts to escape had been in vain but at least she knew she had a friend. The angel looked at her lovingly and she smiled in return.
“Derrien…” she whispered, her breath brushing his ear. Him, she loved.
But it was a sin. The archangels called for a trial, and she proclaimed her love for him in front of all of them, and him to her. Too great a sin committed, the others could not turn blind eye to it even if they had wanted to.
“Ridiculous! What are you thinking?! Angels can’t love each other! Sinners! Get out! You’re banished from Heaven, to the mortal world.”
They lost their wings; they lost their angel status. Thrown into the mortal world.6

Exiled angels, but they lived, with love. They were strong leaders, establishing many flourishing empires, joining the mortals from their first attempts to hunt till their attempts to “modernize” the world. Wars they went through, battles they fought. Maybe it was their past lives which gave them strength, supernatural abilities, and their eternal life. They cherished their long life and everlasting love. Centuries of experience hid everything, and all was well for them, until that day.7

Hellhounds found Lilyienne at long last. Derrien tried to fight them but they were ruthless, slashing at him until the Grim Reaper claimed him. Then, they paused, growling in Lilyienne’s direction. Trotting, they disappeared into the shadows with Derrien’s body in their mouths, leaving the frightened Lilyienne alone in the dark.
***
Millenniums it had been, millenniums she had lived. She was afraid of nothing except of life without Derrien; she forgot about the dagger and anyway, it didn’t count. Now, thinking it over, faced with the choice of joining him, she did not hesitate anymore. The eternal being stepped forward to pick up the glittering silver dagger. A drop of blood fell as she pricked her neck; a red trail flowed soon after.
“Derrien…” she whispered.
Last crossing, into the realm of eternal darkness.