The runes floated beside him apathetically, not providing him with any comfort over the realization that his father was never a good person. His goal might have been to save the world, but to do so; he manipulated his son and countless people. Not to ntion, sacrificed them.
Arthur felt like all of his existence was for nothing. It was hard to find any sort of aning in a life orchestrated by his father or by anyone else, not that it mattered who. When there is no will, there will be no way.
"You are hurt, child," a voice, neither feminine nor masculine, spoke to him from above, and Arthur turned his attention to the world's core. "Let be your comfort."
"You... want to be my comfort?" laughed Arthur at the irony. "You must be the voice of this world and the one behind everything."
"I am not behind anything, child. I am existence, not desire."
"These runes that you hold close are the reason for my misery. All these things that happened, everything that will happen, will be because of them. All just to obtain this cursed power. I never asked for it!"
"I was always asleep until you arrived. I never t any of my creations, except for you, child," the voice explained. Arthur frowned, sensing sincerity. "I am indeed the source of these runes, but they never ant you harm. On the contrary, all of them loved you more than anything."
"Then let go back to my world, to my body."
"You have been fooled, child. The power you used did not only feed on your feelings but your very existence. Runes were never ant to be wielded by one person, and they will devour anyone who does."
"Are you saying that this is the punishnt to my powers?" muttered Arthur with bitterness. "I once thought that I was the creator, but I turned out to be nothing but a puppet that waited to be fed power until it got overfed."
"I sense grief in your voice, and I want to be your comfort. These runes are not mine to give, but they are yours to understand. Let teach you their language, and no one will stand in your path."
"And does that an... that I can return without sacrificing her life?" Arthur asked, but the world's core did not respond. It seems to be wondering who he ant, but the answer arrived soon after, and it tore Arthur apart.
"You left a part of your powers inside other beings, and that is the reason you cannot wield the runes. You need to be whole before that happens. I am afraid that those beings need to give back what you gave them."
Arthur paused because he knew what this ant. This was a choice between his loved ones and living. However, the answer was almost too easy.
***
Love is a trap. Those who don't feel it are free from its shackles. However, as soon as you fall into it, it becos all that matters. It hurt us more than wounds of flesh can.
Diana wanted to breathe, but it was futile as if the air had a mind of its own and fled. It wanted her to be dead, the sa as the rest of the world. She can feel the throbbing pain in her head that aligns with the loss of control over her powers.
It was cold, and it was hot. Her eyes betrayed her, and all she could see was darkness. This happened a few monts after she saw, or what she believed to be, Arthur. Diana was sure now that he was sowhere out there, far from the realm of the living, and to have him back ans she needs to give away the Greatest Harmony his powers natured within her.
Diana felt that the years were rewinding to the first ti that she tried to awaken her cursed traits. These were the sa feelings, the sa chaos, and the sa darkness. Arthur was the reason behind this because he was here to reclaim his gift.
The feelings, terror, and chaos were all the sa back then. Then, however, it was her father at one point, and now it was her lover. The difference between the two was that Arthur did not seek to return at the expense of her wellbeing, and it was proven when Greatest Harmony stabilized, and her powers returned to normal.
Her breathing grew less desperate, and the air returned, along with her vision. Then, finally, Diana found herself collapsed on the other side of the wall, beneath the place that the crack appeared.
She was lying between so outposts of the soldiers, covered in mud. It must have happened after she fell from the sky and lost control of what happened. However, it was safe to say that the world, in general, has lost power, as the ground was upturned.
"I lost him again," she breathed in, her face covered in mud from Gwen's attack. "How long have I been in that state?" she wondered aloud, but there was nothing to tell her of the ti.
Even though they managed to seep into the crack, the clouds still covered the sky. However, rays of sunlight ran through the window, reflecting the surface of the weapons on the ground.
Diana covered her eyes, which regained their previous intertwined blue and red. The sunlight broke through the clouds which were looming over the horizon. The destroyed outpost, frozen soldiers, and dripping walls brought out the world's colors as they were bathed in sunlight.
Her heart was far from peaceful, but the quiet of the world proved its indifference. This world did not care about her suffering or struggle. The light will shine again tomorrow when she dies. Diana wondered what brought her to such a fate.
The mory of their night together resurfaced in her mind as a thousand galloping horses ca from the distance. Diana looked at the armies rushing toward them in a desperate attempt to reclaim the outer walls.
"I am coming to your rescue, Arthur," she said as she stepped through the mud, walking toward the armies. "I don't care how many deaths it requires, even if it includes mine. Are you worth it?"
Arthur Silvera might be the prophet's son, but he was also a victim. Her love for him was not through fate but because of her own will, whether anyone likes it or not. Diana will bring him back, whether this was what the prophet wanted or not.
"Attack!" a roar ca from behind her as she walked forward. It took a mont, but the Devils Hunters did not disappoint. Ten thousand figures flew across the sky riding flying-boards while wielding their weapons.
Diana stared at the sky, looking like a stream of shadows flying across it, all rushing to save their lord. It was months since the Seika t these people, but their gratitude for his protection and care was enough for them to fight.
It was a slap to her face as she rembered how Arthur saved her from the darkness. But then, she t his favor with indifference, letting her father handle it.
However, this was the ti to prove that she was unlike her father. That power, and life, do not weigh more than love for her. Her wings spread as she bolted forward, her hands carrying the last of her conflicting energies.
***
"The war has started," Solomon closed his eyes. "It seems the ministers have decided to launch an attack rather than wait for one. Those fools did not trust my barrier."
However, it was to be expected. The king did not defend them, so the nobles pushed their armies toward the enemy. This kingdom was rotten, making him laugh that he was its king.
A rotten king befits this kingdom.
There was not a lot of ti until Lorius fulfills his promise. Solomon did not care what he was doing with that saint as long as he gave his love back. It was all for wretched love, making him realize how pathetic he was.
The woman he loved would never do the things he did, and she would never love the current him. Solomon was hanging on a mory that could never co back. However, he gave away anything to relive it.
"How foolish I can be?" he muttered and hung his head low. Then, noise arrived at the door. Solomon turned his head toward the double-gemd doors, which were pushed open by countless plans.
The scene of plans growing into his hall did not alarm, but the knights struggled to break free, shouting and making his head buzz. From the heart of the plants ca out two individuals, two young n in their pri.
"Greetings, King of Freda," bowed one of them, a man with curly black hair and lazy eyes. His deanor was confident as if he ruled this life. "My na is Abraham Valdes, and I am here to et Kar."
User Comments
0 comments from readers