An- Hey everyone! This is the same format and idea as last time, except it's what would have happened had they stayed in Middle Earth at the end of story two, instead of returning back to their world. A warning- I'm pretty sure this is far more depressing than the first one.
Another Broken Fairy Tale
Once upon a time, there were four girls. One was a warrior, the second a mother, another pure hearted and the last a survivor. Their mantles had been tested. They met challenges and lived up to the roles that were used to describe them.
There was a moment in time, a crossroads of destiny. The doors between worlds were opened, drawing them into a world not their own. They fought and bled for this new world. Songs were sung and stories told of their feats and their bravery, and with them they were able to claim their place. They were offered the chance to return to their home. They agonized over their decision, and in the end they ignored the advice of a wise man and the will of a goddess. Time passed and life moved on. Each of the girls went to their chosen home, each one carved out a place for themselves in this new world.
The Survivor had always given her affections freely, and found only mockery and scorn because of it. She held her head high, but above all else, she longed to be loved, for she had never felt it in the past. She was broken beneath her surface, though no one knew, for she hid her pain well. When one came who adored her, who loved her like no other, one were surprised when she said 'yes'. They had fought it for so long, denied the depth of it while they fell even more in love. He looked at her and saw her, and The Survivor wondered how he could love her anyway. He wondered how The Survivor could doubt her own worth, and cursed the ones who had made her so. She was beautiful and witty, a woman he was proud to be with. He was honoured to have her life, and when the time came that they were together, not even The Survivor could deny the truth of it. He was her prince, come to take her away and give her a life of happiness and light. For a time, she was right.
The Warrior had always been restless, always quick to jump into, and usually start, a fight. She had a battle lust that ran deeply through her soul, though could only name it once she had experienced it. In another world, the search to find out what it was drove her to even more violence. In this world, she understood it, and it scared her. Her need for violence, the joy she found on the battle field, made her stop and ask if there was something wrong with her. Surely she shouldn't enjoy something so brutal, something that meant she would have to end the lives of other living beings? The longer she stayed in this new world, the more these questions troubled her mind. Every time she recalled her part in the great war, every time she felt the remnants of the rush of battle brought her, The Warrior would grow even more disturbed with herself.
In this life, something happened to The Warrior that would not happen in the other. In this life, The Warrior found love. He was a new king to his people, one who saw her for what she was, saw the warrior in her, and was in awe of it. He saw the battle lust that scared herm and told her that it didn't make her a monster. He looked at her and saw the darkness that lurked in her, the rage and potential need to hurt that, in two other lives, would have ended in tragedy. He saw them, but he also saw he strength and courage. He saw her quick mind and her sharp tongue. He saw all those things, and loved her not in spite of them, but because of them.
In this world, The Mother found the most amazing thing she ever would. It began as an accident, a drunken mistake that was the beginning of a magical romance. In this world, the things she went through for her son made her stronger, made her better. It turned her from a selfish girl into a selfless woman. She grew into a strong and powerful woman because of her son. As that woman, she was able to commit to others besides herself, and because of it she was able to find a love she wouldn't have found in another life. She loved one man enough to fight for that love. The love she felt for him drove her through danger and pain to keep it, and in the end, they triumphed over it all.
Unlike her friends, The Pure Hearted One never found that love. She fell in love once, and it was a selfish love that had terrible consequences. It took time, but eventually The Pure Hearted One saw it for what it was, and resolved not to go down that path again. She knew it was probably silly, just her romantic side coming out in full force, but The Pure Hearted One was going to wait for her soul mate. She didn't want anyone else but her perfect match. She watched as a beautiful relationship healed The Survivor, made The Warrior more comfortable in her own skin and how loved made The Mother a better person. She wanted that. She would know when she felt this connection. Even as the years passed and she lived her life without it, she waited. If a different choice had been made, she would have found it and struggled for i, but with this one, the version of the man who would become her soul mate never existed.
As time passed, The Pure Hearted One couldn't help but let bitterness seep into her heart as she watched the happiness brought to her three friends because of love. She wanted it for herself, but she never would have wished it away from them. She was jealous, but wouldn't let it poison her bond with them. Instead, The Pure Hearted One resolved to see this magical world she had found herself in. For now, she could help rebuild the city of her onetime protector, but after that she would visit each girl in turn in their homes -a simple country side, a great plains, an ancient wood- and experience this world. In another life, she would have drawn this magical realm from her imagination, but in this one she would experience it for herself.
It was The Survivor who first tasted the bitter tragedy that came with this life. For the first few months of her new life, The Survivor's life was a fairy tale. There were adjustments she had to make, she was so different from all others in her new home, her dearest friends far away and only truly knowing her prince. It was hard, and at times she despaired, but with her prince at her side, she found true happiness. Her prince treated her like a queen, made her feel so loved. They were perfect together, the rest of the world decided. The Warrior, The Mother and The Pure Hearted One saw their friend's happiness and rejoiced that The Survivor had found love, something she had already been so desperate for.
Things changed, and did so so abruptly that The Survivor was left stunned and awed. It began with being sick, but at first it didn't concern her. The sickness continued, and with it The Survivor realized that there were other changes happening in her body. She was gaining weight and hadn't bled in months...most of all, she felt different, even if she couldn't explain it. The Survivor had suspicions, and took them to a healer, who confirmed that she was carrying a child. In any other world, The Survivor's first pregnancy was met with varying amounts of dread, but not in this one. In this one, she felt nothing but unadulterated joy.
When she learned the news, she ran to where she would find her prince, and screamed the news out to him. He cried out in jot as he picked her up and swung her around in his arms. Neither of them had ever been happier than in that moment. After celebrating with her prince, The Survivor sent word to her three friends. They were as overjoyed for their friend, and put their own efforts to settle into their own new homes on old in order to travel to the ancient wood and be at her side. They arrived within weeks, and were giddy while they prepared for the oncoming child.
Everything was perfect, until it suddenly wasn't. It was in her seventh month of pregnancy when things went terribly, tragically wrong. It came from nowhere, when, one morning, the baby stopped kicking. At first, it didn't worry her, not until the cramps began and the terrible pain started. She grew scared then, worried that something had happened to her child. She rushed to a healer, but before she could reach them, the blood began to seep from between her legs. She was terrified then, and knew that everything was going wrong.
It was the sequence of events that happened in both worlds, no matter which choice the four girls made. With the other choice, The Survivor was lost and alone while she gave birth to an already dead child. In this one, her distraught prince and friends were at her side. With the other choice, doctors and advanced medicine were there to save her, even if they weren't able to save her son. In this world, she had none of that, and neither could be saved. It was too early and there was too much blood. The Survivor died before she realized that her son was already dead before he was born. It was a blessing, everyone said. They buried them under the ancient trees of the home she had chosen not even a year before. Mother and child were buried together, and exactly a year to the day later, the prince joined them. His people were able to fade away from their grief, and he had no desire to continue on without his lover and son.
The other three girls were left stunned by The Survivor's sudden death. It was as though a deep blackness had invaded their world, one that left a hole in each of their hearts. There was nothing they could have done, only watch as The Survivor died in agony. They were helpless again as they watched her prince slowly die from his heart break. They tried, but they couldn't help him anymore than they could The Survivor. All they could do was mourn.
The Survivor's life ended in tragedy, but she was not the only one tragedy visited.
The friends separated again. The Mother back to her country side, The Warrior back to her plains and The Pure Hearted One to her travels. They all mourned, but it was The Warrior who took The Survivor's death the hardest. This was the one life where she felt no guilt over The Survivor's fate. There was nothing she could have done, but it wasn't the guilt that hit her. They had been best friends, had been family. A world without The Survivor was hell for her, even as time passed and moved forward. The worst came on what should have been the happiest day of her life, when she stood at her king's side and bound her life to his. Before the ceremony, she cried bitter tears that her best friend could not be there to stand with her. She dried her eyes and married the man she loved, but she still mourned the fact that The Survivor had not gotten any of this. In another life, their positions were reversed.
Yet The Warrior, a queen now, was happy. She loved her king and enjoyed the power and respect that was given to her, not only because of her position, but because of her own deeds as well. She missed the other girls, but she was happy.
There was only one blight on her happiness. It was not one that made itself known at first, and it did not even come to her attention for years after her wedding day. There were sideways glances and whispered words, but The Warrior shrugged them off. She was strange to them, she knew, but they would grow used to her eventually. They continued even over the years, but The Warrior stopped noticing them. She had more important things to do, and if it was a problem, her king would have brought it to her.
It wasn't until her sister-in-law became pregnant did The Warrior learn why. It shouldn't have surprised her, yet it somehow managed to. Those who advised her king had gone to him with concerns that she had yet to conceive. They had been tentatively asking about it since the beginning, but had kept their concerns to The King. She was a queen, and it was her duty to give her husband heirs. He assured her not to pay attention to their pressures, to continue to ignore them like she had been. There was no rush, he told her, and he saw no reason to do everything differently than they had been. They were happy, and that was what mattered for now. It would happen when it happens. He did not pressure her, made no mention of it again. The subject was dropped. but it did not stop it from running through The Warrior's mind.
Children had been a subject she had never given a lot of thought on. They issue of having them herself had not even crossed her mind, not even when The Mother and The Survivor announced their pregnancies. She didn't dislike children, but had never considered having any of her own. Now that the reality was in front of her, it was all she could think about. She probably could have done it, borne him children, and been happy, even if it wasn't the path she had imagined for herself. Perhaps she could have been a good mother...but she couldn't. The Warrior watched The Survivor die giving birth, had seen the agony and the bloody mess, and the thought of doing that to herself terrified her. She did not want that...did not want children.
The revelation gnawed at her, kept her awake at night and made her curse herself. In her world, had she chosen a life with no children, it wouldn't have raised eyebrows. In this one, had she married someone else. it would have made her seem strange, but it would not have been a big deal. Yet she had married a king, and as a queen it was her one duty to her realm. In the life she had chosen, her desire would be unacceptable. She was terrified of what this would do to her life. Her king loved her, and she thought they could survive this. She didn't know what it would do to her realm, to her king as a ruler. It would cause unrest and unease in her realm, one that she loved and wanted to protect, one that was only just recovering from a great war.
In her anger, dread and frustration, The Warrior turned to something she used to quell her turmoil in another world. She lashed out at those around her, and though it was not through violence (none would have dared to strike her, even if she tried), though how she wished it was. Her king saw her turmoil, and begged her to tell him what was wrong. She brushed him off, and the strain that grew them slowly turned a chasm neither could cross.
It came to a head while The Pure Hearted One was visiting. She would be staying for a number of months, and they would take two weeks, by themselves, to travel the plains. It had taken arguing to convince her king that it was perfectly fine for the two of them to travel alone. In the end, The Warrior told him she would do as she pleased whether he agreed or not, and they parted on bad terms.
They rode out together, and on the back of a horse with only her friend for company, The Warrior felt freer than she had in months. Her troubles faded into the background for those first few days. They ended up coming to the very edge of the plains, to a small village that would have played a key role had another choice been made, and yet was completely insignificant with this one. It was late and they needed a place to sleep, and there was a small tavern with a room for the two of them. None knew who they were, so when The Warrior and The Pure Hearted One sat down in the bar to eat and drink, none thought to guard their tongue.
Apparently her lack of children was not only the talk of her king's advisors, but of their people as well. Her anger mounted as she listened as they thought her frigid or barren, or maybe a mix of the two, if not something else. She lost the easiness she had begun to feel, as it was once again thrust on her. The anger returned violently, and she wanted to feel pain and she wanted to inflict it. It was a man, a boy really, who made one too many jokes at her expense, and the insult had barely left his mouth when The Warrior swung around in her seat and hit him. She was savagely glad that, after one stunned moment, he hit her back. The hit was a good one, one that would leave a mark for weeks afterwards. It was one that sent her down to the floor, where she grinned viciously and launched herself at him. The Warrior had always been good at physical confrontation, had always excelled at using the brute strength she had to take down those stronger than her. Her time in war had made her fine tune it. Her strength, her rage, her misery and her frustration all went into the fight, and it was no surprise it almost ended badly. It ended with a kick to the knee that brought him to his, an elbow to his nose that should have sent him to the ground. It should have ended with a loud crack as the boy's head hit the floor, as it did in another life. It should have ended with the boy's life, but this time The Pure Hearted One was there to stop it.
The Pure Hearted One was shocked by The Warrior's sudden brutality. She pulled her away, not only from the boy, but from the place as a whole. When they were far from the village, The Pure Hearted One demanded to know what had happened. Angry, The Warrior refused to admit to anything, to tell her friend why she had snapped. They continued on, but their journey was ruined. The Warrior's anger didn't cool, and The Pure Hearted One didn't dare ask again. When they returned home, The Warrior hoped to forget it even happened. It wouldn't be that easy, because when The Pure Hearted One had been trying to stop her, she had screamed her name. In all of this world, she was the only one to bear that name. Word reached The King, and when they came back days after he learned the news, he had also had time for his anger to rise.
Had he waited until they were in private to say anything, it would have ended differently. He didn't confront her the moment she stepped back into the hall, but his anger was apparent when he told her they needed to talk. The Warrior knew he knew, and equal parts embarrassment and defiance shot through her. She felt trapped, like she was drowning, and she snapped at him. He snapped right back, and before long they were both screaming. First there were accusations, and then it all came out. The truth of it came out, not only to her husband, but to all those who happened to be in the hall.
When she finally said it out loud, it stunned everyone there, herself included. The moment froze for The Warrior, because she knew. She knew what she had done, and knew that her life -the life she loved, with the man she loved- had ended with her admission. It was possible that they could get through this, that they could move on with their lives together, but it would never be the way it was.
What came after that passed in a blur. She saw the shocked faces all around her, her king's most of all, and The Warrior turned and ran. She ran back to the stables and climbed onto her horse. She said nothing as she rode off into the night, her only intent to get as far away as possible. She kept riding, pushing her beloved horse harder than she had since fighting in war. She felt numb, and wanted to escape before it wore off. When her exhausted horse came to uneven ground and stumbled, she didn't know what hit her. She went flying from her saddle, and only had time for one terrified scream before she hit the ground. There was a bright burst of pain when her head struck a rock and a crack that echoed through the night air and the distressed sounds of her horse.
When The Warrior hadn't returned by noon the next day, her worried king and friend went searching. They found her where she fell, blood a halo around her head. Her horse lay beside her, leg broken and in pain. They put The Warrior's mount out of its misery and raced her back to the great halls, but it was too late. Despite saving her life in the beginning, The Warrior didn't wake up again. Three days later, she died with The Pure Hearted One and her king each holding her hands.
The entire realm mourned The Warrior's death. Word was sent to The Mother, but by the time she received the message and rushed to the great plains, all she could do was stand beside the tomb where The Warrior was buried and weep. They all wept at the loss and the pointlessness of it all. Eventually, The Mother returned to her home with The Pure Hearted One beside her, and The King was left on his throne without his queen beside him. He was riddled with guilt- their last words to each other had been a screaming match. He had been blind, and some of it willingly so. He knew that his wife had been troubled, but had first dismissed it and then grew angry when The Warrior refused to say what was wrong. His frustration had led him to snap at her, to force the issue. Maybe if he hadn't, The Warrior would still be alive. It was the exact same guilt that, in another life, The Warrior felt in the wake of The Survivor's death.
In another life, it was three years after The Warrior was gone, that the advisors to The King finally convinced him that, for the good of the realm, he must marry and produce heirs. In this world, the same pressure would come once again three years after The Warrior's death. Once again, The King would ignore his heart and marry again in the name of duty. He married the woman who would always be his wife, no matter the world, and gave her a son. On the day of his birth, The King held his small son in his arms and wept. He pronounced him his heir and the boy's mother his regent, kissed the boy's wrinkled forehead and then handed him back to his mother, who looked at The King in understanding and nodded her agreement. The, The King saddled his horse and rode away, never to be seen in his kingdom again.
Life went on without The Survivor and The Warrior, but moving on doesn't mean becoming happier.
After The Warrior's death, The Mother and The Pure Hearted One returned to The Mother's countryside. The death of their two friends could have made them drift apart. Instead, it brought them closer together. They clung to each other like life lines, and they truly were. When The Mother asked The Pure Hearted One to stay permanently, she only had to pause a moment to consider. She had nothing tying her down in any other place, so The Pure Hearted One put her plans of travel aside, because she couldn't bear the thought if separating from the only other girl left. The idea of not having The Mother close was too unimaginable to even consider.
In all lives The Mother and The Pure Hearted One moved to a new home together in order to begin new lives. If another choice had been made, they found great happiness in those new lives. In this one, they didn't.
In the beginning, their news lives had promise. The Mother lived with her husband and son in half of his family home, with her husband's closest friends and his family sharing the other half. The Pure Hearted One found a small cottage, or what passed as a cottage in the country side, by The Mother's home and settled herself there. The Pure Hearted One took up drawing again, and it filled her days and those around her with delight.
Her son was turning ten years old when The Mother found herself with child once again. It was not something she and her husband had talked about, having more children, but The Mother would admit that she wanted more. When it happened, The Mother was delighted- unlike The Warrior, The Survivor's death didn't rattle her. She looked forward to having and raising another child. When she told her husband, he was as happy as she was. Word spread quickly enough through the country side, and all looked forward to the newest addition to their strange little family.
It was a beautiful day when The Mother was sitting on the river bank, watching her son as he played with his friends on the rolling green banks. She was alone, thoughts wandering to how they would prepare for the newest member of their household. She was day dreaming and didn't see her son proclaim his newest talent. The Pure Hearted One had been teaching him how to swim, something few of his peers could do. He was proud of himself, and wished to show off. He climbed into the water without The Mother even noticing. Like all children, the boy over estimated his abilities and strengths. He was still learning, and wasn't able to do it for long. He swam out too deep, and when his strength gave out, he couldn't swim back.
The Mother only knew that something was wrong when the screaming started. Panicked, she looked up to see her son struggling to stay above water, the other children screaming from the sidelines. She stumbled to her feet, desperate to do anything to save him...but he was too far downstream and she wasn't a strong swimmer herself. She could only watch from the bank as her son, her beautiful son that she loved above all else, was pulled under the water. Her screams soon drew others to her, but it was too late. Her son was already gone.
It took a day to find him, and the entire community did their best, praying that a miracle would happen, and he'd be found a little scared, but still alright. His small body washed up on the shore miles from where he had originally gone down. It was The Pure Hearted One who found him. She wept as she desperately tried to find any sign of life, and kept trying to breath life back into him long after her mind knew it was pointless. She tried to save him, even when he was beyond saving. In another life, had another choice been made, the boy would have grown up to be The Pure Hearted One's soul mate. Now, he was just a dead child, and The Pure Hearted One blamed herself for teaching him to swim in the first place.
It was The Pure Hearted One who brought her son's body back to The Mother. She carried him, barely even noticing the weight or struggle to hold it up in her anguish. She walked to The Mother's home, passing by the crowd that had gathered to help. There was silence as she passed, and when she came to the door, she froze. How could she do this? How could she be the one to tell The Mother and her husband that their child was dead? How could she end their world?
The Mother had been inside with her husband for hours, desperately waiting for any word. She had tried to search herself, but her husband was concerned about her and her pregnancy. It was strange, given what she had gone through with her first, but he couldn't worry about her long with their son. He stayed with her, trying to keep them both calm. It wasn't working. The Mother knew her son was dead. She knew it in her heart, even if she prayed for a miracle. Her husband wasn't sure, and clung to his hope.
When The Pure Hearted One came back with her son, The Mother knew her son had been brought back to her. She was behind closed doors and rooms away, but she knew he was here. In a daze, The Mother climbed to her feet and went to the door, her husband calling after her in confusion. When she arrived, she calmly opened the door. The Pure Hearted One was standing there, haggard and miserable, her son's drenched body in her arms.
The Mother let out a strangled, anguished moan before she fainted dead away. Her husband rushed after her, but stopped dead when he saw his son's body. He screamed then, the sound as anguished as The Mother's moan had been. The Mother lay unconscious for two days, and when she woke up, she wished she hadn't. She woke up in time to attend her son's funeral. The Pure Hearted One held one of her hands and her husband held the other, and they were all that kept her sane. She throbbed through it all, wishing that she would just go to sleep and never wake up again.
Everyday she would go to her son's room and just stand in the middle of it. It hadn't been touched, was still the exact same as when her son had tumbled out of bed the morning he died. She didn't want to be the mother who couldn't accept it, who left her child's room like a shrine and never moved on. She didn't want to be like that...but it was so hard. Moving on seemed too impossible. How could she live in a world without her son? Her sweet little boy? It was as though all the light had gone out of her world. It was hell, this world. There was only one thing that stopped her from falling into a depression she could never climb out of was the child that was growing inside her. She clung to that child, even if it made her feel guilty. She felt like she was trying to replace her son...trying to use this child to get over his loss. It was the only thing that kept her going.
Her husband felt the same, but he tried to be strong for them both. The Pure Hearted One suppressed her own grief at the death of her godson in order to do her best for The Mother. Everyone rallied around them, was as supportive as they could be. He had been a much loved child, and his loss was felt by all.
It was a month after his death when The Mother once again stood in her son's room. She just looked at everything, replayed the beautiful memories she had...and she grew furious. How dare he be taken from her? She had gone through so much to bring her son into the world, to keep him safe in such a dangerous time right as he was born. How dare he be torn from her? She screamed and cursed any higher being that could possibly exist. In her rage, she picked up something - she didn't know it at the time, but it was one of her son's toys- and threw it across the room. It hit the wall and broke into several pieces. The destruction made her feel a stab of vicious satisfaction, and from there she threw everything she could get her hands on.
Suddenly, a sharp pain sliced through her, making her cry out. She clutched at her stomach as the terrible pain ran through her. When the blood started, she knew what was happening and she screamed again, this time in desperation and panic. She fell to her knees and sat there as the child ran from her body.
Her husband returned home hours later and found her there, hysterical. Through her sobbing and hysterics, he was able to find out what had happened. Even if she hadn't been able to say the words, the blood, most of it dried now, would have told him the story.
With her one tether gone, The Mother fell into a deep depression. She lay in her bed, unwilling to leave it unless absolutely necessary. She barely ate, and grew sickly because of it. Her dreams were filled with nightmares of her lost children, so not even her sleep was easy. No one could get through to her, not her husband, The Pure Hearted One or any of her friends. She was lost in the darkness of her grief, and there was no relief or light in sight. After her body had healed from the miscarriage, The Mother told her husband she wanted another. He didn't want to, didn't want to risk anymore heartbreak and feared what it would do to The Mother if it failed. Yet The Mother was so desperate, wanted it so much and saw it as the only way to be happy again. Her husband reluctantly agreed, knowing in his heart it was a bad idea, but just as desperate as The Mother. They tried for another child, not to replace the child they lost or the child they never had, but to try and fill the hole they left in their wake. Month after month, when The Mother showed no signs of being pregnant, she withered away a little bit more.
Finally, there was a night a scant few years of depression later, The Mother fell into a nightmare ridden sleep and just didn't wake up again. It was said that she died of a broken heart. Her husband tried to wake her, and when he couldn't, the remainder of his heart shattered as well. It was raining, the day they buried her beside her beloved son. Long after it was over, her husband stood beside the two graves- one old, one fresh- and wept.
He was never the same after The Mother's death. He aged by a hundred years overnight. Through his depression never had him acting to the extend of The Mother, it became rare for him to leave his home, and he never smiled again. Too many horrible things weighed on him for him to smile. It took longer, years, but he too succumbed to his broken heart.
The girl with the pure heart was the last, and she felt her heart whiter. She tried to move on, if not for her own sake, than for The Mother's husband. She tried to help him, but she knew it was hopeless. She tried to continue living the life she had started with The Mother. When the anniversary of The Mother's death came and it was just as painful as before, The Pure Hearted One knew she couldn't stay. Too many memories were there, and all they were doing was hurting her more. Still, she tried, because how could she leave The Mother's husband to his pain? He was her friend, how could he leave him to suffer alone? One day, he took hold of her hands and told her that he knew what she was doing and that he loved her dearly for it. Then he told her that he knew staying was killing her inside, and she couldn't do it for him. She had to do what was right for her. She hugged him fiercely, and they both knew it was goodbye.
For the second time in five years, The Pure Hearted One picked up and moved as far away from her life as she could. She took nothing with her but essentials and went far into the wilderness. She withdrew from the world, the loneliness crippling her. There were other friends she had in this world, even if distance stretched far between them through the years. They couldn't stop her from hurting. They couldn't stop her from shutting herself away, from shutting out the world. Eventually, they stopped trying altogether.
The Pure Hearted One was the only one who lived to see her adopted world burn. At least, she was the only one who knew it burned. She was far away when it started, isolated in her self imposed exile. It wasn't until a rider, sent from her one time defender, came and begged her for help, did The Pure Hearted One even know that anything was wrong. Despite all that she felt, she answered the call to battle without hesitation. Despite her frantic ride, by the time she arrived to aid her comrades, her adopted world had fallen. She couldn't know it, but by that time, her original world had fallen into darkness as well. She was too late, because not a cruel and powerful king ruled the land, using the power given to him by an even more powerful god. The King knew the danger The Pure Hearted One could cause him -she could be a leader, a rallying point...a hero of old who would convince the beaten, broken and conquered people to rise up against him in revolt and rebellion- and ordered her death.
The Pure Hearted One was no fool, and ran before the assassins could get her. She couldn't take them on herself, and she had been alone so long she didn't remember how to ask for help. She was so used to taking every challenge with The Survivor, The Warrior and The Mother at her side, so she never even imagined doing anything that great without them. In a different future, in one where a different choice was made, there was a time when The Pure Hearted One was forced to learn how to stand alone. The bonds between the four friends were ripped apart, nearly broken beyond repair, and each had to live without the strength and love of the others. In that future, each grew stronger for it. In this life, The Pure Hearted One never found the strength to became the leader and saviour the enemy feared she could be. Instead of taking a stand, of at least trying to change the fate of her chosen world, The Pure Hearted One kept running. She never stopped running again.
Unlike the other, The Pure Hearted One was blessed with long life...though with every year that passed, every year that passed, every year that she was chased, every year she grew lonelier and more bitter, The Pure Hearted One saw that time as a curse. While she never got to the point where she wanted to take her own life, there were times she bitterly cursed that it was taking so long. When The Pure Hearted One's life finally ended, at the hands of a simple heart attack, her final thought was 'it's about time'.
Once upon a time, there were four girls. Once was a warrior, the second a mother, another pure hearted and the last a survivor, and none of them got a happily ever after.
l. .l
An- Thanks for reading! Hopefully I didn't depress you too much. Don't forget to leave a review.