❝𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐮𝐬 𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐦❞ (time devours all things)
In which a silver soul is cursed with the burden of five deaths, the power of five shards encasing her very being. In which she meets her star-crossed lover who, unbeknownst to her, has be...
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ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴏʀᴛʜᴇʀɴ ᴋɪɴɢᴅᴏᴍ, ɴᴏᴜxɪᴛᴏɴ ᴛʏʀsᴇɴ ᴘᴀʟᴀᴄᴇ
━━━━━━━━━━━ 𝐈𝐱𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐥 𝐗𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚 ━━━━━━━━━━━
THE INTIMIDATING STRUCTURES of granite and obsidian stood high, topped by wicked looking spires shining dangerously in the light of a thousand broken chandeliers above my head. The room, locked away from the rest of the palace, was old and dusty. Truly, no one came to clean this place.
Mostly empty, my eyes travelled along the torn and tattered wallpaper that was peeling off ever so slighty, to the glass vases, pottery and other artifacts decorating the abandoned room. Some sort of storage room, perhaps?
It was the giant closet at the back of the room which piqued my curiosity. Furnished in black, the closet had translucent windows to give me a sneak peek of what was stored in it. I squinted through the glass, unable to clearly see what the hug blob of black was due to the dusty surface.
The voices in my head have stopped by now, specifically the moment I opened the door. My fingers pried open the wardrobe doors and my eyes took a while to adjust to the darkness in order to make out what the object hanging in the wardrobe was.
I covered my mouth to silence my scream.
A pair of wings.
Dakota's wings.
Enormous, soft, alabaster wings that were bigger than my body. I came closer, the pair of wings offering me the comfort of its rustling, huge size, black as the night sky. On further inspection, I noticed dried blood smeared at the roots of the dark feathered wings where it had been sliced off cleanly.
A finger traced the soft feathers and to my surprise, they flapped and cocooned me in an inviting warmth, lulling my resisting senses into a false sense of security. They seemed to have come alive at my touch, excitedly moving about as though it wanted to be freed from being a caged canary.
Currents of grateful air flew in at once, curtains of winter breeze swept my scented hair away as the wings continued to flap in elation.
Shivering unsteadily, he ducked his head down into his palms. "I loved flying. But that's taken from me now. I'm useless, pathetic-"
I quickly shut the doors of the wardrobe, catching my breath from my reverie. What if there was a way to get his wings back? To help he fly again? Would that make him happy? I'd do anything to make Dakota happier.
