Forgotten Crowns - Prologue

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All life is shaped and then ground away by the endless flow of time.

You were known as the strongest among us, yet it would seem that even you...

~~~


They say that,
The line of heirs has always seen this same sight as their days draw to an end.

A mountain of crowns, piled together beneath a withered tree -
Each one hiding a lifetime of anguish.

Deep in the abyss that was Tartarus, where the sun cast no light,
the one once named Tarian kept a pendant, though it had lost all meaning.

At an end of his story, he realized there was no place for him on this earth.

As far as the world knew, he was a selfish man, who sought to claim the powers of the divine for himself, the last heir, who tarnished his bloodline for good.

If only they knew...

At the bottom of the world, he learnt the true identity of the tyrant that terrorized this world.

His holy blood was wrongfully cursed, the so-called victories were a hoax.

After thousands of years in hell he had grown accustomed to the deathly silence.
But today...Something seemed amiss.

He lifted his ghostly head for the first time in years, to see the only light that graced Tartarus slowly leave his body.

It shifted into what seemed like a butterfly, leaving behind a short trail of gold with every flap of it's wings.

It flew around him for a few moments, but Tarian's guard fell when he realised it was her.

The First Lady and all those who came after.
The Spirit of Olympus, is what they were called collectively.

But to him, titles did not matter.
To him they were the true gods, those who sung a beautiful ode to civilization with their lives.

The light fluttered and after a few moments, Tarian knew.

Soon a new Heir would come into this world. And with them, the cycle would once again continue.
This butterfly would soon be the soul of another pawn, another tragedy.

He felt himself dissolving into the light that the butterfly presented and let himself be embraced by the warmth of the soul's innocence.

And as the world around him dissipated, he saw the butterfly split into two.

He smiled to himself, as the rest of his body faded.
Now this was something that tyrant would find most unamusing.

"Perhaps this time," He thought to himself, "things may be different."

In his concious, the First Lady's voice chuckled lightly.
Finally speaking, but not to him;

"The world shall burn no more...That what we have left behind is now yours to inherit."

The two butterflies circled each other, fluttering through the darkness and out into the world.

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