COMPLETED | ❝ Some journeys take us far from home. Some adventures lead us to our destiny. ❞
━ in which a peculiar girl with gifted abilities and natural wit named ophelia wellington finds herself burning the entire world with a single spitefu...
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WITH GATES AJAR, Edmund was stood in its reach. There was a looming tide stopped midair that cast a large shadow to dim the lights of the lands. What good did it bring as tombstones appeared to rise from the thick mud of the ground. Names one by one etching, embedding, carving itself to the rough stones of recognition. Beneath the layers of a thousand masks, there was but a little linger of chance inside his voiding core. Rains had raged from high above, the house of his being dripping acids from the holes that were on the surface of what once was the faithful roof.
Could clouds disperse from hazing his mind? Was there ever an escape to the labyrinth that trapped his consciousness with not hedges but spiked darkness? Must there still be the slightest mystery that could be solved as the pretend would vanish? Even if there was ridicule to the atrocity, or must he grasp the notion of ever swimming up the deepest rivers of oblivion, only stood there was a dead end.
Long had he been caked of underwhelm, past had he longed for the dispersion of the empty space he one day felt. What was he to do when his dreams were the nightmares of the others? There was no yesterday that the itch had healed, or no present that the wounds turned into scars. It was always bleeding. So red, so solid, so dark. Had he could've been saved if there was a stop to the endless war that his mind fought all the time?
No, no there was not. Far was he gone from his control and pushed to the furthest corner that he had gone away from the blindness.
As his hand dropped the ring he planned to use as a vow, the tiny fragrance of kind had left him. And then he pulled the chains off of the doors, tearing the walls down until it crumbled every piece of weight. Dams had broke and was now set to vaporize anything from its path, the storms muting any sound of a dove's chirp.
Perceived was it that he'd cease from pleas but he wasn't doing such thing. He would never. Because as his figure smoked away the moment he stepped past the gates, the balance had completely cracked and released the large violence that had finished its centuries of slumber.
His story ended there and became a myth that would haunt everyone's drifting. But he did not go lost with the final blur of being the villain. Where wreckage would born was a peaceful clearing, so he used that last branch of the secret tree to glance upwards with eyes filled of sorrowful shedding. And then he begged the moon to lead the future's victory with his excruciating truth.
From the tower of the south where a male had entered, he fell to his knees once he took notice of the room's state. He has been searching for his brother right after he finished supper in the hall. Found not in his chambers, he anxiously scattered around the entire land. With no more choice of seeking his presence everywhere else, his feet landed itself to the last place he thought the boy could be. And the ransacked state of the parchments shattered his being as realization bloomed in him.
