Hello, I am the Seelie Court Jester.
-This is the third and final installment of Tales of the Seelie Courts. I hope you've all enjoyed it.
-I do not own Code Geass in any way. All rights go to the creators.
There was a young woman, who walked through a field of corpses.
Eroding limbs splayed themselves over the eroding quiet, with algae already growing over their exposed bones. Lose fragments of skin softly drifted away from their scarred faces, the jagged scars hardening through time's aimless wandering. Ragged tatters from beautiful dresses and finery blew sullenly in the frosty air, and along with it, tiny specks of jewelry, most of which had been forgotten long ago. Worthless books were covered in leaves and mud and insect organs, their pages trampled upon the soiled, filthy ground. To anyone else, it'd seem those bodies were trying to drag most of their possessions to their grave. And yet, despite their insistence, perhaps Death wouldn't allow them. Dried, tear streaks befell onto their now fragile, frozen faces, with the same, glassy eyes reflecting back up at her her own, twisted reflection.
She couldn't help but stare at them for a while, with a pitying gaze entwined in her orbs, before finally looking up. From the ebonic shadows, she could see their horrified faces, as they realized what their king wanted to do. She could practically see them screaming now, crying, pleading that their torture end, that they be saved somehow, someway. She could see them running over one another, trying to get away from whatever monster was chasing after them; even his own soldiers, who were simply following orders, were caught up in the chaos.
Crumbling stone lay wasted in the middle of the courtyards, the torn banners tearing through the violent breeze. Broken glass shattered beneath her feet, with stains of blackened crimson splattered all over the jagged edges. Ashes danced in the realms of golden sunlight, innocently entangling with evanescent dust. Silent, archaic screams still filled mournful winds, with foreboding, ominous clouds gathering for the dirge. Hollow trees sang for their now dead comrades, their age-old trunks and branches and leaves now reduced to nothing more than a twig for the cruelty that crushed them.
An eerie calm had washed over her then, cascading onto her a soft, forsaken wind. Callousness embodied the corners of her eyes, and along with it, an atmosphere of abandonment and neglect. The silence coated her frame, as her empty footsteps resounded through the polluted, afternoon air, creating a kaleidoscope of sin not even she would dare touch.
And yet, she still closed her eyes.
There was a young woman, who walked through a field of corpses. A young woman, with long, rosette hair, and gentle, lilac eyes. A young woman who once held fast to her gentle nature, who did everything she could to try and make everyone happy, no matter what the cost. A young woman who had taken a liking to pretty, frilly things, who lived in a world of sweets and smiles. A young woman who would've done anything to throw away her innocence, to show the adults that she wasn't as childish as they believed, that she could handle herself. A young woman who couldn't bear to watch her loved ones suffer, even as they stood before her, screaming at her for her own, pathetic foolishness.
A young woman, who lay dead at her feet.
At that moment, Euphemia found herself at the front of the castle gates.
Suzaku was back in the real world, fighting alongside Britannia. More than likely by now, Arthur had bewitched most of the Britannian soldiers, and was doing all that he can to try and recreate the same rift the two countries had before. C.C was nowhere to be found, and neither was Lelouch. Nunnally, from what she's felt, was already planning on doing something stupid, and if no one stopped her, Britannia's already fragile peace would crumble.
And Euphemia was here, alone, ready to deal with the one who started this twisted fairytale.