𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭 | ✓

epilouge || fate's hands

remember to comment LOL finally done with this with this

There was something missing.

This was what the crown prince felt like: a plucked flower which had lost all its radiance. Something tangible—something he had loved, deeply and truly; was absent. How else could Aristidis explain the torn, hollow feeling in his heart, that something to fill? How else could he explain the fact that the world seemed so frighteningly mundane? So frighteningly boring?

But Aristidis just didn't know who.

It felt like the gods had forcibly ripped out someone from his hands. Like this was redemption, somewhat.

The prince dreamt strange dreams.

Someone calling his name out affectionately: Ari, he would say softly, like it was a name to be treasured—something to savor on a tongue: please. Come to me. I beg of you.

Other times it was a ravaged, pained sound. Grief, Aristidis recognised. Directed at who? Him? Why? Who? Calling his name out with such agony—such bitterness, that Aristidis woke up from it, suffocated and numb.

Something.

.

Was.

.

Missing.

Someone.

Marriage prospects came by and went.

He never once looked at them. Aristidis would feel the same bored contempt whenever he looked at them—they are mere replacements, he would think—but then he would panic.

Mere replacements for who?

Names flitted by in his head.

Angelina. Angelina. Angelina: then it would quickly turn to Livio.

Livio.

Angelina's brother? But he didn't even..

Then a spark of light would flash in his head, and his mind would be bathed with a vibrant color: Y/n. Y/n. Y/n.

He inquired numerous times. Spoke to nobles, historians, and at last, Angelina. Even Livio, and somehow, that appearance felt so endearing to him. Yet it was never the same person. That appearance visited him in dreams, calling his name out with a sweet, sweet, voice—but this Livio, that he met, was vastly different.

He didn't..he simply..wasn't him.

(Who?)

How do you describe the feeling of losing something you never knew existed?

The feeling of losing something you don't even know you possess is like chasing shadows; you try to touch them, but they will never return. It's as if a piece of your soul has slipped away.

You search through the recesses of your mind, desperately trying to put a name to the longing that has taken root in your heart.

You try—you desperately try to put a name to it.

It never works.

You question your memories, sifting through the fragments of your past in search of clues. Faces and names flicker like distant stars in the night sky, tantalizingly close yet just out of reach. There's a yearning for something undefined, a void that you can't quite fill.

You turn to those who might hold the key to your forgotten memories, hoping that they can help you make sense of the emptiness that clings to you. But the answers remain elusive, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.