The Shadow of the Accursed Executioner

Chapter 20: The Pale Legacy

Splat...

...

Thud...

...

Smack...!

The fall of blank and shadowed bodies, had splattered themselves upon to the grounds from beneath the ravine. Each, as shadows above had continued to have loomed from the hole of the ravine's waterfall, watching from their voiceless faces like blackened voids, and as each, another shadow along there be another, would continue to proceed along to raise another blankly foot over upon, to the opening of this hole, once more.

...Splat!

The shadows ending themselves, one, after the other. Then another. And another. Yet as for their landings were that as like the formations of a roughness circle of bodies to have surround a single man. Of splattered bodies (though some to have faded, and only leaving a plant of blood), had landed into the pure body of a man, whom wields of a singular, shadowed limb as his right arm and of a closed, slit eye. And as yet, as being, his left eye, a sight, as the shadows, had aimed to have end their own lives, to within that man's body, the wholeness of the shadows to have remained be phased into his body as like an infinite, and illusionary pile of phasing bodies inside...that man's body.
For while through the piling of gradual furthermore falling shadows landing nearer or away about this roughness circle of the shadows, to have landed...to had ended to their own existences, to within this man's whole body precisely, they now had begun but to calmly evoke from within, to the man's flesh through-in his left arm, for to a subtle, and a sudden twitching of... to, yet a finger.

...Smack!!

...And now, as light, would begin...but... To engulf, the eye...

...Smack!!!

... ... ...

... ... ... ... ... ...

Yes... Recalling in thought. About this dream, the vision. The bleeding moon, the red mist throughout, as like an empty vastness. As I had stood before my towering home, the palace. For with it, residing as a stable float within my dream, and I standing with my back toward the doors of my home. Staring into a vastness of the red mist but only to have seen to a distant shadow laid upon to the nothingness, like it were laying onto an invisible and expansive pane of yet limitless boundary, with along beneath to have been a long and wide stretch of pure dark, like a field, disguised as like a mouth, inside a thoughtless void.
Curious and attentive, yet aimless upon my bare feet, I would approach to the shadow from toward my opposing end, distancing the Silver Palace with a leave, it moving as a subtle image, a slow, and gentle hover away. Then seeing to the shadow, had laid to a side to the invisible pane of the ground with a tragic curl. For which that had made me want, kindly, to touch the shadow. Yet, I had knew that the shadow were I. Curled, and helpless into, as if eternal self-doubt, as the dream of my shadow and of the bleeding moon and of the red mist had plagued me within the final night before my release from the Motherless Line. For then, to be letted released as the second, and perfect child of the Andswall Royal Family. Devoid, flawless of the scales, where unlike the many brothers and sisters whom had made it not, but be deemed be monsters, by the king, instead. Were instead, but to receive, to the Injection of the Darkness, for to end their lives.
Now, as I had dropped to my knees and still had wore to the white gown of a patient's apparel of the Motherless Line. As then I had reached lowly to the pain and doubt that were I, as a tightly curled shadow. With its back faced to I, the shadow, though emanating not only pain and doubt, but of fear and loss, and of guilt, and uncertainty, along, too.
N-No...
Guilt and uncertainty, were only be now, I...to have thought...reconsidering. As only each man or a woman, or boy or girl and, when or where, or one aught to be to experience of such a vision, were only be abled to have experienced of such a dream, of daunt only once.
Once. Never again, had a dream known of, to harbour one's own sheltered existence, mist, one's shadow, and of bleeding moons, were to appear once more.
Yet, I would attempt to reach for the laid, curled shadow, and within complete silence it were, yet, continued to have emanated of the utter sadnesses, to of all the sorrows of the dead and of all the brothers and sisters of the Motherless Line, and I, my shadow, of the fear and loss.
But now as I had brought my hand now as low as to touch-now through-the shadow, with a burying phase into its back, and now as the dream had then ended away like a shut. As then, for I had returned, to my returning wake back to to the reality of the Motherless Line beneath the palace, from amongst within one, the many, white beds, now, returning back to be as my final day and night before my release, for then to become the second prince. As a second, potential successor, to rule, for the realm.
Yet, to have wondered, of since when I had witnessed of my shadow within my dream, and with it, to have never had appeared again, and lastly, seeing to its appearance as a worthless, sad curl as my last known ambition, would continue to cloud my thoughts forever within fear and uncertainty. That, and with brother, being gone, and along with his love and courage for me to strive, as he had known where I had come from, suffered from. As he too, had been raised by the same process by through the Motherless Line beneath the palace and were made out to be as well as another perfectly chosen child of devoid scales, for the realm.
And brother, wanted to love me and tend to me completely, even over himself, and for others, be all, that were, of the realm. For he had known how unveiled and unstable our line, the pale line, had be.
Thus, to have made, I, even more precious to him. And with he, to of been, even more utterly, precious...to me.
As, he had strived as to be like a perfect brother, by the very miracle of his existence, as well, being devoid of the scales, thus brother to had mould me after to the past terrors of the Motherless Line with the little time we had received together.
A seven year line. Bedridden, and naked, for the wet nurses to have examined my pale body each day, along, progressing and, progressing within hope, till the appearance of no scales be upon my whole body, for until I were seven.
To be, for seven years... in fear.
Fearing, to the appearance of... to a single scale.
But with brother being gone now for a time long, and the ambition of my shadow now had be as a sadness of doubt and uncertainty, with only to have witness to the existence of my own shadow once, seemingly forever, as to be, as like a scar to my vision, I were to wonder of the future as, the next ruler of the realm now, truly. For which, for were I be, truly lost without elder brother for the remainder of my life, or? Were my ambition really were just to cry in a curl-or, were it all due by, to the stresses being induced, by to to the witnessing of my many scaled relatives to have died beside my wakes and sleep? Or, yet, for why did the dream were to happen during near to the final night of my release of the Motherless Line? Or, perhaps, were I always meant to die at the line? For had the nurses not had groped nor had pinched me enough till I, were to cough up to a tiny fragment of scale-or, had father now had decided upon to materialize a heart-then, to unveil to the secrets of his hiddenly breeding with, to low whores of the realm and, then then to genocide upon to all his sons and daughters, of whom were ingrown of the scales, of one, or of many to conceal, they all...due, to the literal image of a monster?
A dragon?
By, another monster... My father, the king.
For tormented by, to the symbol of my shadow, a foresight of my future like to reign unclear, like a gape of nothing, a sinked boundary, a blackened edge. Guideless, I had felt, for the purpose of my shadow, being a saddened curl beneath a demented moon, as being to the core of my aches, of guilt and doubt.
As the sights of my ambition had called to I...
W...Were I...?
(Guilt. To save none.)
(Doubt. To rule not, as next king... unworthy.)
Were I...? Destined, rather...to give up?
Were I...to submit to the doubt of my shadow, my seeming purpose to lay and to suffer of, to the telling ambition of my dream?
Yet, I cannot...
For it, cannot do...
...
No! I will not!
Because for the shadow, had never had appeared again. And the nightmare were ended. And so the slate were clean, and as time were awaited for I in counts, till I, to become, the next king, ruler, of the realm, and better.
As I...am alive...
And for when I become the next king, they will all be released, and thus abled to live, whilst being of the scales, for the realm to see.
For as I will expose my father of the Motherless Line, and of Ayu's death, and, to the secretive recruiting of, to the Knights of the Realm.
To be, all exposed, to have thought. For if, I must find, to the seeking of, firstly, for... To the Black Executioner...