Speech = ``...´´
Thoughts = [... }
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Nothing made sense any-more, or perhaps, it was that she who could not made sense of the it as it was…
Iris did not know which of the two was, nor did it matter much if one tried to think about it. The end result was the same….and that was the only truth she had come about.
The first princess of Midgar stumbled slowly through her room, almost as if drunk even though nothing of the sort was happening. Her body covered by the lithe touch of her night gown, the bare, naked soles of her feet touching the cool grounds of stone and marble that were not covered with the soft and warm touch of carpets and the skins of dangerous beasts she had bested or had received as gifts. Feeling the coldness latch unto her skin like a sea of needles clawing at her flesh.
But she could not care her less…
A cold sweat was crawling at the back of her head, dampening the cloth, cooling and freezing her body in stark contrast with the fiery hearth that had taken by storm her heart and chest. The embers of said fire licking and scorching the edges of her organs. Slowly, but never stopping in their task. Pushing more and more those weak, shallow breaths out from her chest. Her crimson mane that had always mirrored the vibrant shades of a bleeding sky was now dull, left unkempt and wild with no regard whatsoever for her appearance as the streams of scarlet fell over her shoulders.
But it did not matter…
The sound of birds chirping as they flew through the air outside her windows, the soft breezes of the new day and the warm, caring touch of the sun as its beams protruded and spread out through the confines of her room. Making the surface of trophies and medals of gold and silver glint softly. The vestiges of her own exploits and lauded efforts...
They were ignored as her eyes bared down into her reflection in one of the hanging mirrors.
Reflecting the dark bags that had formed under her scarlet eyes for countless nights without proper sleep, always remembering that day. Those things she saw coming back again and again without pause or mercy..
And how could she not when each time she looked out from her very window she could see the devastation that had been brought into her home. When her eyes could peer through the distance and take notice of the burnt marks and the damage that the buildings of the city had taken through the attack...
Her body started to shiver, trembling as her fingers clasped unto the small table that laid below Leaving small cracks into the wooden frame with ease as her knuckles turned deadly white by the sheer pressure.
But she would be lying if that was all that bothered her. In truth, that was actually small matter. Buildings, like blades could be reforged, remade and no one would give much fuss about it.
But this was not about swords and buildings…
Had they…, her mind could have found some relief from the weight it now carried.
The wood started to give in, breaking down and splintering as her fingers dug deeper and deeper. Her jaw clenched tightly, teeth grinding against each other to the point to draw blood. The arterial red slowly sliding out from her lips, coating her pale chin with a streak of liquid scarlet before it fell down into the wooden frame below. One drop at a time..
She tried to breath, but even her lungs felt on fire, her body irking and shaking as she force it to give her what she wanted.
She had tried to forget it…
She had tried to lie to herself…
And she had almost succeeded. Fabricating the thought that it had been just a dream, or a delusion built up from the stress of her first and actual uncontrolled combat experience in the small like war that had erupted under their very noses.
It was logical…
It happened to everyone, when your blood was pumping and your senses were stretched thin in the ever changing situation in a life and death situation lapses of memory were nothing to worry about. They were a part of the life of a warrior…, just as much as the day she took her first life, this was just another trial she had to pass through.
Like any other Princess before her...
But those blazing eyes of red always came back to her, burnt into the back of her mind and leaving an itch she could not block, she could not soothe.
They tugged at a string left hanging in her soul. Slowly or fast, softly or hastened...reminding her that they were there. That they would always be there.
One thing led to another and soon enough everything started to pile down, one after the other...with her being hopeless to stop it. Almost as if she was a mere observer of the act of deconstruction..
She weakly rose her head and stared at her own reflection. Gazing at the pale hue of her skin, at the glistening trails that her sweat had left through its passing over it. How dark bags had formed already under her eyes for constant nights without proper sleep as she was reminded time and time again of that.
She remembered….everything.
The flaring pang of pain as her body felt the sharp kisses of steel peeling and taking away chunks of her flesh.
The bitter taste of her own blood spilling out from her lips as her bones shattered inside her with each savage strike she was forced to face, block or failed to stop short from its intended goals...
The laughter and mocking words of those that had faced and-
She bit her lip, closing her eyes as her face was marred with a bitter scowl. Her legs quivering while her throat became bereft of any air to draw in. With the only reason she did not felt and slumped down the fact that her hands had relatively become stuck into the very furniture before her.
She felt lost…
She felt empty...
Like a puppet who had happily danced under the hands of its puppeteers only to find itself laying on the ground once the strings had been cut. No longer knowing how to stand without the support of its master and its threads...
She had thought herself far above everyone else in respect of the skill of the sword….and for as long as she had lived she had believed that. Everyone said so…, so it had to be true.
…
Then those two monster came along and the veil was taken away from her eyes with the same gentleness a dragon would have when stomping over a lamb.
The hooded maniacs, the undead monsters, and then that insufferable, inhuman piece of shit of a sadist and that beastly and animalistic Theriantrope.
Fenrir and Lili...
Those two…, they had not fight her as equals, they had not bested her as one would think. No, they had demolished her. So utterly, completely and systematically that the very memory made her body ache in pain, non existent wounds wrapping around her body and squeezing her tirelessly.
And yet that was not the worst part.
"The nightmare ended, now a new day beings anew. Your people can rebuilt..."
She opened her eyes weakly, raising her head almost shyly. Not because she did not wish to met the gaunt, ghastly reflection that she knew would stand before her, but rather she dreaded to find the image of the woman she had been that day.
Proud..
So proud...
Was she that person any-more? With her gaunt expression and her purposeless visage..? It was hard to believe she had been like that.
It felt wrong to stare at it…, more so to acknowledge it. Her eyes becoming quickly lost under the shadows of that day, of what she had seen as the tale commenced again to flash before her wine red eyes.
She could feel her stomach tied into knots, and yet threatening as-well to spill out all of its contents into the ground. The bitter, scorching taste of her biles raising through her throat.
She remembered herself tired and weak, her muscles groaning and unresponsive as she forced them to move. She remembered the smiles and looks of relief washing over the faces of civilians and knights alike as she trod over what had been left when she tried to do damage control. Her body in autopilot as she tried to understand a city that was as different as day and night from when she had left it prior to her losing consciousness…
There were bodies, blood and guts everywhere where the dust and broken bricks did not cover the ground. The air was filled with thick fumes of dust and smoke, draining the light of day to a pitiful shadow of its former self.
But nothing could compared with what laid at the epicentre of the man made apocalypses…
"The nightmare ended, now a new day beings anew. Your people can rebuilt..."
Her body shivered while her run cold as the words came crashing down when the memory of that massive hole that had tore through almost a quarter of the entire capital came back. How it had left nothing in its wake.
Buildings pulverized, walls demolished, the ground melted into nothingness.
A massive blast of magic that had turn entire avenues into a memory of the past. A wound in the very heart of the kingdom that would never mend and was now exposed for all to witness.
She could still remember the way the ashes and dust of the crater slipped by her fingers as she couldn't even utter a single word of the monstrous show of devastation before her. Nothing she could could have been enough to describe it..
The impotence she felt...it could not be overstated.
Even now, it tore her apart...
From that moment forward everything else had become fuzzy and blurry. She had heard what the Knights had said about the matter, what line of thought her father had tried to reinforce when it was impossible to deny that in a matter of hours a part of the capital had been swallowed in a massive crater.
That it had been the work of an artefact out of control. That those that had tried to take the city had tried to make use of a machine that had imploded on its own leaving nothing but ashes and dust behind.
It was a sound argument, a sane one, for no one, no living been was capable to hold all that power.
To think otherwise was blatantly stupid if not down right naive. Men could strong, they could be wise and sophisticated...but they were not gods.
She had wanted to believe that…, but those burning flames that stare deep into her soul spoke a different tale.
Stating a silent warning...
"The nightmare ended, now a new day beings anew. Your people can rebuilt..."
She had believed herself to be the strongest…
Her people believed her to be the strongest warrior ever to be.
The entire realm believed her to be the one and only to held such title…
She could already hear their praise, how they lauded her a hero, a genius, a talented child that could do anything she put her mind to it. Someone that had no one to challenge her.
…
…
But it was all a LIE….!
With a violent scream she yanked her hands away from their hold in the table and slammed her fist into her own reflection. Shattering on impact into a thousand shards that flew through the room and landed on the ground as they now were vacant of her former self.
Perhaps her first and true act of free will since she was capable of thought.
Blood started to slip past her knuckles into the floor as some shards were left buried deep inside her flesh. Her legs gave out, prompting her to finally knelt into the ground before tears started to mix with the blood staining the cool marble floor.
But such wounds were trivial when pain and agony were coursing through her soul as the truth tore through each single cell of her body. Misery, fear, betrayal and confusion dawning separately or at the same time at her.
Strength had been everything for her…
The goal that those around her had built for her to focus on.
But she was not strong.
Not even close.
From that moment forward everything felt sluggish and blurred.
She did not notice when people started coming inside her room, or when they lifted her up and started working on her hand. Neither did she notice the stares of the servants and Knights nor the orders they gave each other.
There was just one thought in her mind.
What...what was she meant to do now..?
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A/N
Here is another chapter, I hope you enjoy it.
A blade is now broken, but even its shards can cut deepest. Can she be remade or will she rust in her woes?