Everything is beautiful. Such a lovely world we live in don't you think? I wanted to show you, Rosa. You'll walk with me won't you? You will? Of course you will.

See how the flames flicker this way and that, how they lick at the tinder just so? Do you see it? The gorgeous hell-fire engulfing our city, rising toward the stars as it turns buildings to ash beneath our feet. I can even see it raining from the sky, falling like crimson snow. The embers are coming to rest on my blackened armor. Oh dear. They seem to be soiling your robes too. Ah well, no matter. You don't mind overmuch, do you?

No, of course not. I knew you'd understand. I suppose it is just as well. Rosa dear, your colors were always soft pinks and whites. Why red this time? Pardon me for saying so, but it really doesn't suit you.

All the same, that gray and black ash looks rather lovely in your hair. At least, I think so. Your soft white-blond is but a backdrop now, but it really makes the other colors pop, wouldn't you agree? Truly I don't even mind that I can see more red soaking the strands.

Perhaps we shall ask Cecil when we see him.

Now now, don't be anxious. We must be patient, my dear. I've saved the best for last. I know how much you miss him.

Aren't you pleased? Here, let me show you what I've done. I've fixed it, Rosa. All of it. Isn't it wonderful?

See that man over there? You remember him do you not? He's the blacksmith's son, and I'll never forget the day he made you cry. He'd been squired to one of the more prominent knights in Baron's military, and he was running errands when he tripped and fell. You tried to fix the scrape on his knee, and he pushed you away. Said he didn't need anyone's help, least of all that of a weak little girl who couldn't even hold a sword. We were still young – maybe twelve or thirteen. When you came to me crying, I told you to stop. I told you that you were being silly and I had better things to do.

You were so mad at me. But look, I fixed it now. I fixed him. See? The leg you tried to mend? I ripped it off. Now he'll be sorry he never accepted your aid, so will you forgive me now? That's why you don't love me, yes? There has to be a reason you don't love me.

Well I fixed it, Rosa. I fixed it. See?

Look what else! There's your mother, the rambling old crone. You always told me she was too over-protective and you wanted freedom. You couldn't so much as stub your toe without her knowing about it, and you hated that more than anything. Now she'll never lecture you again. I choked the life out of her with my own two hands.

There's the old black magic instructor, who told you you'd never amount to anything. And the quartermaster, who laughed at you when you asked him for help with your bow work. The blood of our neighbors sinks into my boots as we trudge ever closer to our destination. That's okay though, right? They were never worthy of your beauty. They were never worthy of your love.

We're at the castle now. I know you'll be angry about this.

We're in the throne room. Or what's left of it, anyhow.

The banners are torn. The statues are broken. The doors are splintered off their hinges and the staircase is wet with blood. The sweet, pungent scent of death is fresh in the air. Lifeless castle guards are strewn across the floor and they're in the way. I tire of weaving around their corpses.

I'm so tired. Aren't you?

The gang is here too, Rosa. All of our dear old friends. I made sure no one was left behind.

Cid. Obnoxious old wind-bag though he was. Silenced at long last. Did your inventions help you in the end? How about your airships? Did they help you as I thrust my lance into your chest?

Palom and Porom. The twin duo that never shut up. Together they were black and white. Order and chaos. But in the end, they were as any other children. They were just as angry, just as scared. I saved them heartache. Now they'll never have to grow up and suffer as we have.

Edward. The Prince who would be king. The kindly little bard, enrapturing all with his music. He's clutching that damnable harp even now, gazing sightlessly up at the ceiling with those big-sad eyes. He said he felt sorry for me. Can you believe that, Rosa? What a pitiful excuse for a man. What a miserable wretch.

Yang. The warrior monk of Fabul. The sanctimonious cur who thought he could disdain me. We can't all be good little soldiers of the Gods, foolish man. Where were your Gods as I smothered the light from your eyes?

Edge. The arrogant whelp who fancied himself a ninja. The boy who played at being a man. The mighty 'shinobi' with no grasp of where his duty lay. How dare he spit venomous words like 'traitor,' when he had not seen enough to know what they meant?

There's the pretty little summoner, from Mist. The poisonous bitch who didn't know when to die. Rydia, was it not? How radiant she shines, even with her hair mussed and her robes dyed red. I should have killed her long ago, but I mended that at last.

She's clutching a whip and her face is contorted with pain. Her free hand (missing a finger or two) remains outstretched, reaching for the throne. Or rather, for the man slumped over it.

See? I told you I'd saved the best for last. I promised you we'd see him again.

Cecil Harvey. Lord Captain. Holy Paladin. He of the Hallowed Light. No matter his title he has always been superior to me. He was strong. He was kind. He was handsome. He was great. He was everything I couldn't be. Lady Rosa's lover. King Odin's favored son.

He beat me. Always. In everything, it's true. Even in the end he was just the same.

It was as if the fates were mocking me. Cecil begged me not to do it and I killed him where he stood. I struck him down, and where did he fall? No really, guess where he fell.

Onto the damn throne.

I left him. What else could I do? Still superior to me even as the color drained from his face and his body stilled with lifelessness. He rests there even now; head slumped back against finest velvet. The only thing missing is his sword and a crown.

When did I start laughing? I'm sorry. I can't seem to recall. But my throat is raw and my voice is cracking as it echoes around the chamber, and it seems likely I've gone mad, but I can't stop laughing and I can't stop crying.

Don't you see, my Rosa?

I can't escape this beautiful madness.

I love you.

I hate you.

You've ruined me and I hate you.

But God I love you.

Is this enough yet?

Do you love me now?

What. What the fuck. What just…I don't. Oh my God. I sat down to write something fluffy about Cecil and Rosa and it turned into Kain going mad and slaughtering all of his friends. What the actual fuck? What does that even say about me?

I um…thanks for reading. Review if you want. Somebody help me, I don't know what's going on. I feel like this isn't my best, but I like it. In a really sick sort of way.

I'm so sorry, Kain baby, for turning you into a raving lunatic. And Cecil baby, please don't kill me for killing you ;_;