The girl...slept.
She embodied every angry, filthy sin humanity had to offer. Every dirty little lie, every petty theft, every bloodstained secret. Hate and rage ran through her bloodstream, slowly making its way throughout her entire being.
And still, she slept.
One by one the swords had slid into her, their bloodlust left unsated even when they'd destroyed every scrap of flesh and bone the girl's lean frame had to offer. Even when what little remained of her was maimed and scattered to the point of oblivion, it was not enough.
It would never be enough.
The whirring started once more, and the tainted blades gathered high into the air. The bells began to ring, one after another, each sending a shower of rubble and stained glass as they lifted and spoke their toll. The duel called Revolution was over, and the hallowed gate had been opened. The witch had been unbound...and the kingdom had fallen.
The castle that had once hung in the sky no longer existed. It had been drunk up by the deep blue hue that suspended it for so long.
And still, the bells rang.
After a time--perhaps it was a day, perhaps it was an hour; the death of the old had finally passed, and the mourning for a world that would never be the same again had been sung by all that remained of the fairy tale kingdom.
Though no one ever felt it, the earth stopped entirely throughout that time. In the east, the sun never rose that day. In the west, the sun never set.
For with the conclusion of death with an old, comes the rebirth and promise of a new. As the girl had been rendered to warm crimson dust, so too, did the world bleed as its current Fate was killed. What was meant to be...became obscure, and would remain so until the Inheritors were finally decided.
Would it be the swords and their vile wrath which inherited humanity's destiny? Twisted its last Prince?
Or would she be able to snap every twisted blade within herself before they turned her noble heart into one of a devil?
In the end, there would be a heaven--or a hell.
The bells stopped ringing, and the swords lay still in the clouds. The magic that had created the kingdom swallowed it back up again, till there was nothing left but a field of green in a forbidden forest. Not a single glass shard sparkled with dew, no marble dusted the grass.
But among this material nothingness...a figure lay. A figure clad in white, with a cape of red regally clasped to its shoulders. Locks of pink falling clumsily over a peaceful brow. In this figure's hand rested a sword, bearing a crest that time had long forgotten.
This figure had once been a girl who willed a dying body to move just long enough to keep her promise. That body had indeed perished, through not the blade of the one she loved, but the endless blades of those who felt no love.
They obliterated the old, and there, in the grass that held no magic, the new was born.
Her new body would hold immortality, for it was the only way it could hold the swords within as well. Within this timeless holding, a war would wage...
And if she truly was worthy of the legacy that had been bestowed upon her, in the end, the swords would be destroyed, never to claim another sacrifice.
If she could not condemn them, however, they would break free of their cage within her and satisfy their sinister cravings with the blood of all who lived, by her hand.
A childhood promise had been kept, and a young girl became a Prince.
Once again, each and every blade slid into her, though this time no blood was drawn. Twice the rain had come and gone before each nestled in its own spiteful little niche, filling her woundless body with restless dark desire. They clashed within her unconscious frame, a ferocious noise, announcing the completion of their new homecoming.
When their din finally silenced, the sword that had lain faithfully in its masters hand left the loose grip, and swung itself gracefully above the girl Prince's chest. Then, after a respectful pause, it thrust itself downward, melding with her slow beating heart.
One blade to shine amongst the vicious rest.
This was her reward.
And still...she slept.
She embodied every angry, filthy sin humanity had to offer. Every dirty little lie, every petty theft, every bloodstained secret. Hate and rage ran through her bloodstream, slowly making its way throughout her entire being.
And still, she slept.
One by one the swords had slid into her, their bloodlust left unsated even when they'd destroyed every scrap of flesh and bone the girl's lean frame had to offer. Even when what little remained of her was maimed and scattered to the point of oblivion, it was not enough.
It would never be enough.
The whirring started once more, and the tainted blades gathered high into the air. The bells began to ring, one after another, each sending a shower of rubble and stained glass as they lifted and spoke their toll. The duel called Revolution was over, and the hallowed gate had been opened. The witch had been unbound...and the kingdom had fallen.
The castle that had once hung in the sky no longer existed. It had been drunk up by the deep blue hue that suspended it for so long.
And still, the bells rang.
After a time--perhaps it was a day, perhaps it was an hour; the death of the old had finally passed, and the mourning for a world that would never be the same again had been sung by all that remained of the fairy tale kingdom.
Though no one ever felt it, the earth stopped entirely throughout that time. In the east, the sun never rose that day. In the west, the sun never set.
For with the conclusion of death with an old, comes the rebirth and promise of a new. As the girl had been rendered to warm crimson dust, so too, did the world bleed as its current Fate was killed. What was meant to be...became obscure, and would remain so until the Inheritors were finally decided.
Would it be the swords and their vile wrath which inherited humanity's destiny? Twisted its last Prince?
Or would she be able to snap every twisted blade within herself before they turned her noble heart into one of a devil?
In the end, there would be a heaven--or a hell.
The bells stopped ringing, and the swords lay still in the clouds. The magic that had created the kingdom swallowed it back up again, till there was nothing left but a field of green in a forbidden forest. Not a single glass shard sparkled with dew, no marble dusted the grass.
But among this material nothingness...a figure lay. A figure clad in white, with a cape of red regally clasped to its shoulders. Locks of pink falling clumsily over a peaceful brow. In this figure's hand rested a sword, bearing a crest that time had long forgotten.
This figure had once been a girl who willed a dying body to move just long enough to keep her promise. That body had indeed perished, through not the blade of the one she loved, but the endless blades of those who felt no love.
They obliterated the old, and there, in the grass that held no magic, the new was born.
Her new body would hold immortality, for it was the only way it could hold the swords within as well. Within this timeless holding, a war would wage...
And if she truly was worthy of the legacy that had been bestowed upon her, in the end, the swords would be destroyed, never to claim another sacrifice.
If she could not condemn them, however, they would break free of their cage within her and satisfy their sinister cravings with the blood of all who lived, by her hand.
A childhood promise had been kept, and a young girl became a Prince.
Once again, each and every blade slid into her, though this time no blood was drawn. Twice the rain had come and gone before each nestled in its own spiteful little niche, filling her woundless body with restless dark desire. They clashed within her unconscious frame, a ferocious noise, announcing the completion of their new homecoming.
When their din finally silenced, the sword that had lain faithfully in its masters hand left the loose grip, and swung itself gracefully above the girl Prince's chest. Then, after a respectful pause, it thrust itself downward, melding with her slow beating heart.
One blade to shine amongst the vicious rest.
This was her reward.
And still...she slept.