𝑻𝑹𝑬𝑫𝑰𝑪𝑰

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          She was standing on a battlefield

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          She was standing on a battlefield. One she knew all too well. There was no one for miles, at least, that's what it seemed.

She couldn't see very clearly as she was covered head-to-toe in muck and grime. Her greasy, lank hair didn't flow down her shoulders in their usual velvet waves. And her once long flowy black dress was torn due to numerous battles.

A feeling of uneasiness took over her body, the sword, once held in her hand, abandoned long ago. The feeling could be placed down to the fact that there were unmoving, non-breathing corpses in front of her – but they were of no significance to her.

Though she looked to be alone, she could sense another. Even not seeing them – she practically smelt their emotions; anger, sadness and... regret? She could feel them hesitating. And like Ares, God of War, she hates people who hesitate in battle.

What would regret a battle so inevitable? For all battles end in chaos and bloodshed. And to regret would bring one insanity and a life full of bitterness.

She whirled her head around at the sound of a branch breaking under ones foot.
And there he stood: The Man of Gold. The man she knows she loves – or at least, used to.

Each step he took closer to her left a trail of gold. The sword he picked up on the way, too, turned to gold at just his touch.

Her haunted and cold eyes looked at him with sadness as she knew what was to come. For a brief moment, she closed her beautifully compelling gold eyes – the ones he so cherished.

And as she opened them once more, she, too, had a sword in her hand, but instead of hers turning to gold – it remained as it was: sharp and silver.

She stalked toward him and met him halfway. They both gazed deeply into one another's eyes: knowing it would be the last they were able to do so.

She took a deep breath and continued to look at him mournfully, "I knew this would happen." she whispered low enough for no one to hear, but the silence from the dead bodies around them made it so loud.

He raised his hand as if to stroke her hair, but at last minute decided not to. Which was good, as she didn't want to turn gold like the others before her.

He peered into her eyes that were filling up with tears much like his own. "I need to do this. I'm sorry; believe me, please!" he pleaded with her as if to reassure her, but in reality, it was to reassure himself.

She shook her head, black hair moving with her, "I know." was all she said as she looked at him for the last time, "I am too."

And with the finality of her words, they both raised their sword and quickly plunged them into one another; you could hear the plangent music across the battlefield.

𝐋𝚰𝚬𝐒 & 𝐒𝚬𝐂𝐑𝚬𝚻𝐒 ϟ ᶠᵉᵐʰᵃʳʳʸWhere stories live. Discover now