Inexplicable Dream Team one-shots

The Stone Maiden // KarlNap

[2289 words]

| romantic |

**Content warning: kind of a gender bend? (Karl is male, but uses/accepts a variety of pronouns)**

Author's note: This is a gift for my writing buddy MintyFrxsh! They never fail to brighten my day and I wrote this one-shot with specifically them in mind! :D I hope you enjoy it

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Legend tells of a time long ago when the statue in the city square was alive. Local folk weave tales of a beautiful maiden with slender shoulders, hair the color of fallen autumn leaves, and lips softer than a dove's coo. Her gaze was fiery, eyes shimmering a bright pastel blue.

Mythic stories describe how the maiden cried limpid tears when she lost her lover to a cruel, merciless storm. The nature of this storm has been lost to history, but local folk insist only the most horrific disaster could have led to such a tragic result.

After her lover's disappearance, the maiden was doomed to spend eternity as a statue, waiting silently for his return.

Today, the Stone Maiden stands, frozen in time: a life-size stone monument amidst a sprawling metropolis. From around the world, tourists flock to view the ages-old statue. Even from meters away, visitors claim to develop chills and the sensation of being watched when they approach the monolith's regality.

The maiden stands upon a small concrete platform, slightly above the heads of the living people below her. Despite tales of her searing beauty, her face is not visible. Dressed in the last outfit she wore before this tragic fate took her, a purple wedding dress, the statue wears a veil which masks her face. Perhaps this circumstance was a blessing in disguise, for local tales claim the maiden herself was so beautiful, people around her would desert their own lovers in hopes of claiming her affection.

However, for as long as the maiden has waited for her lover, alone among a crowd of admirers and mythology buffs, she still cannot accept merely anyone. According to legend, the maiden will not emerge from her centuries-long trance until her husband returns, reborn in a new body.

Most visitors to the statue lingered only for photo opportunities, then proceeded with their tour of the city. However, over the course of decades, one tradition remained.

In one hand, the maiden clutches a bouquet of lilacs close to her chest. The other hand extends outwards from her body, palm downturned as she presents her splayed fingers. Patiently she waits for her husband's reincarnation to slip a ring onto her finger, for their wedding was not complete before his untimely death.

Male visitors to the statue would intertwine their fingers with hers, relishing the cool touch of stone against sweaty hands. Some married men even slipped off their wedding rings with bemused glances at their wives, who rolled their eyes.

None of the hundreds of daily rings which slid on and off the maiden's fingers ever caused her awakening, so she continued to wait, ever so lonesome among towering skyscrapers and fluttering pigeons.

On one cloudy day in December, two young men joined the daily crowd of visitors to the Stone Maiden. Childhood friends strolled alongside each other, laughing boisterously and marvelling at the local architecture. During their day-long tour of the city, they had already viewed a museum and library; locations which demanded constant silence brought the men to their breaking point. Outside, their voices were finally free to shout and tease, all with good intentions.

"Is that the city square?" Pointing ahead of the pair, Sapnap gestured to a noticeably visible blue sky and absence of skyscrapers.

"That's what the map said," Dream confirmed, hastening their pace.