𝕄𝕆𝕀ℝ𝔸

32 |THIRTY TWO |삼십이

RISA

There's a difference between living and surviving, difference of bloodthirst, you live as you breathe, it isn't disgusting, isn't dirty, surviving is! it's brutal, ugly, it takes you down to the very cold dungeons of dead divinity, it isn't heroic! isn't something worth glorifying.

It's more cowardly than anything, people die, and die with dignity and pride, they do so when there was a purpose to live, and with a will full purpose to die, survival however is tears turning breathless sobs, its blood splashed over your being, as you kill, your own sanity, its numbed emotions, it's decaying existence.

And still one won't back down, they hope to survive through all those haunting realities, doing all that requires to withstand the storm, survival is sacrificing others for your own self, surviving isn't heroic and it could never be heroic, one's scars are proof of their decaying realities, they're traces of the monsters hiding within, out in open, claimed as the signs of strength, strength which never existed in the first place, and that's what makes humans disgusting, it makes them worse than any other being.

Humans, filthy and all two faced, good for nothing! the smiling faces hiding broken hearts, and vulnerable, weak, hiding the sinister demons within, drowning in misery and yet greedy, there's so much to hate, in their race, I believed, I wouldn't engage with such filth, and then she came, dragging all the filth right onto MY THRONE!

I know because this girl isn't any different, from that disgrace of the race, the very first time I came across her, I saw that survivor within her, fighting against the poison with passion of a warrior, her resistance starting a war against me, and thou she isn't someone who did something particularly against me, not intentionally at least, my hate for her keeps on growing with each passing day.

"What's with all the oracles having the worst timings" Alpha Yoongi grumbled, his words pulling me out of trance, and I smiled thinking of how, this was just the beginning, "I hate this place with passion that couldn't be matched" taking a deep breath I calmed my ragged breathing, the path towards the Diviner pantheon was rough, it was tougher at nights.

Yet this was going to mark the end, end of my sufferings, resting my palms over my knees I breathed, nausea building deep into my gut, as we stood over the soft grass of the Divine pantheon premises, the flesh of my feet burning, at the feel of soft grass, after tracking over rocks, and hard ground, a weird rule of the Divine messenger clan, one couldn't step in the premises with footwear.

Sighing, and walking behind others who were led by lower wings of the messengers, the men all dressed in black, not a single speck of their skin visible, their footsteps oddly light, almost similar to assassins, looming in the dark, intending to silently lull one into the sleep of eternity, I noticed how, the kings were all tensed, clearly not looking forward to this meeting of theirs with the Messengers.

No one does, nothing new about it, but to rule one should always be ready to get dirt over themselves, and Messengers are built out of what filth is, power never looks out one's ways, as being strong and staying strong is all that's needed, I myself despite my hate for him, and his trickster clan, have walked here down to the very core of gutter.

It's all for the power, the power I deserve.

Shivers ran down my spine, steps coming to halt, at the view, of the oracle ground, my stomach making turns, as I watched the huge figure of- "Yeong-" I rasped out involuntarily, my throat dry as desert, as I stared at the sculpture, seeming higher than the sky itself, the known figure of glorious warrior of the Phoenixes, the divine.

Half kneeling over the ground, his sword stabbed the surface of earth, as he seemed to be bowing, the long veil over his face fluttering in the air, hiding the expressions which sure were of nothing but longing. the gold carvings of his long cape, old and dull, the majestic glass like sword, bearing marks of the pained war he Fought.