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Prologue
A drop from above fell upon my cheek. I sighed but there was no sound. I cringed at the tightness of my metal mask and chains. My hands shifting
uncomfortably against the cold unforgiving bonds. My whole body sighed now as I let my feet sink along the wall. Promptly sitting myself on the hard floor. I
placed my hands or rather my metal case atop my knees and curled into a ball. Closing my eyes to the darkness, listening to the droplets fall around me, with
only my ever so quiet movements as a pleasant noise.
If I had any singe of feelings now, I'd cry. But where do I even begin. Last time I cried, it was for sentiment, should I try and imagine sentiment now? I
cannot repay sentiment, I do not even know sentiment.
I am only contradictions.
Oh how my eyes burn, and my chest aches. My thoughts are disheveled. I am feverish, but not hot. Lost in fragments. I have all the ways of emotion but
what do I feel?
I am not afraid nor am I calm. Yet I feel as if swayed by sweetness. I breath out my nose to calm my pulsing heart.
One, Two, Three. Breath in again.
All I can hark on is old words and memories, on how all of this began. Oh let me have my sweet thoughts again. A warm memory, should I even be allowed
to have it? The night sky on earth, the warmth and loss of pain with- Gone again with the thought of where I am. My eyes open wide to my dark, wet
chamber. I hear footsteps from a guard outside. Like someone making sure I'm feeling the punishment.
Oh, I know perfectly well what I did "wrong". If there ever was a "right". It seems perfectly natural now that I will never know this "right" that people so
carelessly and easily flow into. This sense of right, Ha. Have I ever known it? Was it ever once in my heart as it lives in his?
All I know is I am this hideous monster given its rightful cage. I have never known a master, and all I've ever been shown is hate. But that's not true is it?
Alas.
I think now of my father, Odin. My father, that word without even a spec of what its meaning should be, with his impenetrable rage will surely thrust the
most cruel of punishments upon me. I will be made an example and all for what.
I was in a lie, everything I've ever known has been lies, even what little spec of kindness people of the court might have shown me in the past was for my
ability to lie. Silver-tongued, I am called. As if that's my only talent. Never given a chance to strive like he was. Yet I am still considered weak always
defeated in the shadow of his greatness, no matter how hard I try to fight everything, and have nowhere to turn no words to share, I imagine him
everywhere, I don't want to think of him let me be free, his blonde hair and eyes like sapphire.
. . .
Should I just sleep the rest of my time alive?
What more is there for me to say? What more is there for me to do?
Will I even be given a chance to speak? I never was before.
And there it is. A drop not from the wall, but from my heart, cascading down my cheek. Leaving a salty streak for others to follow. I let out a puff of air
into the metal now moistened by the warmth. Followed by another then another I couldn't control. If I can't stop this soon, I will be in uncontrollable sobs. My
heart will not heal from this. Maybe its better if I am to die.
My crying continues getting softer and softer as it goes another. The dampness of the cage seeming to match my disgustingly salty tears. I hate this. I
hate all of this. Let someone come so I can be given the hate I deserve. Tell me I am wrong, tell me I will die, just don't leave me like this.
I finally control myself enough to stop. Unable to wipe away the moisture atop my cheek I lay on my side facing the wall away from the entrance. My eyes
close again. I let out hot air from my nose and sleep.
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