Prelude: Aftermath
Shattered. Everything I loved, gone. I hesitated. Stupid girl. Crying won't help. He's gone now, because…
… because I just stood there. Unmoving. Just like I am now. Too late.
Where is he now?
Dead.
What will they do without a king?
Replace him.
Yes, that is how the world works, isn't it? Cold and cruel, moving on in the aftermath of death as if it had never happened. I hate this place.
Chiaki's thoughts spiraled onward, downward. Her pain was evident to all present, but they had more important things to deal with. The king was dead. Ororon, King of Devils, died because of love.
Was it worth it, Othello questioned the silence with a wicked smile, but only silence answered him. For all his calm, his outward appearance, he did feel the loss. The loss of a brother. The loss of a king. And for what? He sighed.
Chiaki began to tense. Her pain. Her glorious, hateful pain.
Bring him back.
Silence answered.
Bring Him BACK.
The wind stopped.
Bring HIM BACK.
Her mind was screaming now. Her pain pounded in her chest. The world held its breath.
BRING HIM BACK!
Her inner world of suffering erupted, past the dull feeling of loss that she had felt previously, and the world around her followed suit. The sky was gone, the city gone, nothing existed except suffering. WHY? Then there was silence.
This is why half-breeds are forbidden. They have too much potential. Even God fears their kind. The free-will of man and the power of an inhuman. But she lived. Chiaki, daughter of the angel Michael. She lived to be loved by the devil himself. But what was to come of her now?
