RITUAL
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Long long ago, there was a time
In these cold lands of eternal winter
That we have forgotten
Where people lived in fear of the fury of the heavens
And to ease their anger
Sacrificed what was the most precious for them
-Old forest witch's tale
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The cold wind licked his have without mercy. He felt hands on his shoulders, trembling but strong and merciless. The white dress was more like a shroud, barely protecting his body of the cold weather.
Prompto looked at the cloudy sky and remembered the story of Shiva, the Glacian, the goddess that eternally mourns the death of his beloved and cursed men lands with eternal winter. The old matrons of the town singed the ritual song, and eternal mourn to the sky. Others like him where there, next to him: a young lady with silver hair, whose mother was caressing her long braid. The cold tears poured from their eyes, and Prompto realized he was crying as well. Other participants marked the path with red wildberries, to the black still waters of the lake, where small boats waited for them. A young man tried to touch his betrothed, but the other assistants stopped him before he could touch her.
Time is a fast-flowing river, it didn't spare everyone
Bride waiting for groom, waiting as her hour
Wearing in white, she's standing as in shroud
She is doomed to peace, wedding bell tolls
That was the signal. Barefoot, they started to walk alone to the boats, and then climbed in. a broken scream almost broke the rhythmic chants of the elders, but then their voices raised and the cold wind howled.
One rough hand took his small one and helped him to lay inside the boat, the with veil covering his face. Small snow drops started to fall, and he could hear a sob from one of the others brides. Prompto closed his eyes, wishing he had somebody who would mourn his death. Yet he wished he could choose his destiny, even being born as an artificial omega.
Where death gives birth to life
In ritual long sleep
She in maidenly fear
She are destined to betrothed
He felt the boat boat bein untied and pushed to the lake. Slowly, slowly, the boat plowed through the dark and cold waters. The elderly's voices started to fade, maybe the cold he was starting to die of hypothermia.
A roar broke the harmony of the voices. Prompto opened his purple eyes and watched the dark clouds, his heart beating faster and grabbing at the sides of the boat. One of the brides screamed in fear when another roar came. A sound - like when the sail on a boat catch the winds, but much, much stronger - mixed with the wind howls and the chants.
Take them, take them.
A shadow - huge, terrifying.
Claws - enormous, deadly.
A red eye - merciless and ferocious - looked at him
Somebody was screaming -
Prompto realized he was screaming when those claws grabbed the boat he was in. The sky became the land, the sky became the earth, everything started to spin as he felt those claws almost crush his body. Scared, terrified, he screamed.
The dragon choose him.
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I remebered the movie Он - дракон and then remembered I wanted To make something. This can be seen as some sort of Promptis…. the lyrics are a translation I took from Ritual'naya pesnya (Ритуальная песня) : / / lyricstranslate es / jenia-lubich-lyrics . html