She had suddenly stopped her advance, startling the remaining awareness of her brother, as he looked upward, blood flowing from the wound across his forehead. Their father refrained from gazing back, not offering a gesture of welcome or even concern. It was the absence of courage, to their eventual realization even the disappointment of knowing his children survived the slaughter outside. Or perhaps... Degnasa would have preferred to not have them witness his last effort, knowing the amount of pain it would bring. Bleeding as well Kurimi held on to her brother, forced into a hobble as she pleaded for entrance and the acceptance of their father. She tried to shout his name, her voice faltering and losing itself within the ruined landscape as she continued to abandon hope. It was our moment... Degnasa finally gave them a fleeting glance, nothing but emptiness and a silent begging for forgiveness shown in an expression she couldn't recognize any further. Sighing, he turned away, signaling toward his escort.
"I'm sorry... Close the gates..."
Somehow finding the strength to raise his hand toward the sky, the arch mages around him followed suit, closing their eyes in concentration and beginning a chant that instilled a sense of dread even to its casters. Despite showing no emotion for the entire duration of their return, tears began falling from eyes filled with sadness, remembering those they forgot and had fallen for this moment. The portal closed with a resounding explosion, sealing off the outside and giving a sense of sanity as the turmoil became less prevalent. Around the city wall, arcane symbols became engraved into the stone, giving off an eerie radiance of infinite colors as they neared completion of the ritual. Outside he could barely hear the muffled pleas of the dying, then something that nearly broke his heart. "Father!! Please..!! Open the door!!! Please!!!" Kurimi was banging against the steel gate, furthering the blood loss as she drove herself deeper and deeper into panic and her own personal breakdown. At the risk of disrupting the spell they were casting, he managed to whisper out a single word as he completed the final verse, losing the will to continue as he fell to his knees. His kingdom was bathed in a glorious display of light and magic, a saddening silence following as the congregation joined it, honoring the dead and attempting to cope with their own losses.
".... Sorry...."
And only after everything was done, did he realize what he lost in order to forever have this moment and this kingdom.
---
The people of Iromis were liberated of the invaders, the spell cast being something that Degnasa had for so long searched for. Staying within the promised utopia, the people remained within a moment that was their own, protected by the wishes of their leader and the scarlet flashes beyond the expanse of the walls. No more change. No more hurt. No more pain. It seemed perfect at first. Not knowing of what truly happened, they attempted to continue on in a reign of tranquility that he ensured would last until the ends of time itself. Unable to move onward however, the people continued to wait and grieve, wishing to see those they had lost that day. Mothers, fathers, children, friends... They were given the safety they so wanted, but cruelly robbed of those they wished to be alongside. The arch mage guard and Degnasa returned to isolation, rumored to be because of the tragic loss of Civvris and Kurimi, two generals revered as saviors to their own realm. And without knowing the truth, they heralded Lord Degnasa as a God himself, despite the heartache and emptiness that filled their hearts.
In their honor it was said that ten thousand flowers were planted outside the city grounds, each representing a life lost in the final moments of that dreadful war. Known as the beautiful Emeriste, they were blooms carrying the myth of lasting forever, but having to sacrifice beauty to attain immortality. Rumors circulated about what truly happened outside those city walls, of the spell their Lord had cast and the fates of those that selflessly fought for their existence. Sometimes, when the scarlet glows are brightest at dusk, its been said that if you listen carefully you'll hear voices of those silenced. Some familiar, some foreign, they were memories of tragedy repeatedly told amongst the expanse of blossoms.
Ten thousand lives.
Ten thousand dreams.
Ten thousand confessions.
The Season Of Eternal Bloom begins...
~~~
*Broken Dreams XIII*
~The Season Of Eternal Bloom; Kingdom Of Sacrifice~
~~~
Again, thank you for your time. |