#1pieces of stained glass litter the floors of the cathedral hall, fragmented and broken, and only snap into tinier pieces as you dig your heels into them, to hear the glass break. the pews are smashed and broken, claw marks and tiny holes pierced through the wood. the altar is the only thing in the cathedral that remains intact - perfectly, at that, with its polished marble and bright red cloth like a river of fine silk trailing gently down the broken steps. it was here, too, that all the citizens of dogmatika nation transformed into grotesque monsters, when you made the stigmata they all clamored to receive bloom beautifully and painfully into brands. like a garden of flowers, you harvested their souls, their sanity, and when their heads dipped next it was not in supplication but errant madness. of course, you never cared about any of them. not when you founded this nation, not when you taught the prayers you made up to its first pope, not when you came back hundreds and thousands of years later to reap the harvest of your stigmatas. but they had taken something from you - *someone*, from you. when he fled the abyss and crash landed in their midst, they called for his head. and when their saintess could not take his life, she fled with him. you grind your teeth, slamming your boot into a destroyed pew and watching as the wood splinters under the force. fine! if it had been you who gave them life, then it would be you that took it away. the entire nation would become monsters, mindless and manic, only able to follow the words of your commands. and when their lives were too exhausted from fighting, you would use their flesh for something greater. because they took him away from you. because [---] fled before you ever got to him. because their saintess eloped with him even though you had loved him since time immemorial. it was always the two of you in the abyss. just the two of you. and without him, you are - you are al o ne . #2you want to kill her. the rage courses through your veins like adrenaline, a building crescendo that boils your blood and pricks at the surface of your skin. your hands twitch and shake and you ball them into fists so they stop. everything you have worked for is here - it's right in front of you. killing her does nothing. you repeat this to yourself, over and over and over, until the tide wanes and withers, wistful like your gaze fixed at the dragon beside her. obsidian scales and a white mane as gentle as the moonlight, like the stars that populated your ever-silent abyss. like the brand on his chest you used to trace, a white pearl embedded in his skin much alike yours. the mask you wear is the only thing that prevents your facade from slipping. even so, the girl looks at you with wide eyes, her small hands gripping the handle of a hammer. finally, she opens her mouth - "albaz...?" something breaks like a dam inside of you. the emotions surge and spill out of your heart. albaz, she says. albaz, she says! as if the one thing you were searching for was nothing - as if [---] did not even mention your name to her. as if albaz was his name. of course he wouldn't, you briefly think. of course he wouldn't. he doesn't remember. he doesn't know who you are. he doesn't love you like he used to. but you will carve the memories back into him. you will bring the world down if it means he is returned. you would burn it all if he isn't. the skies outside are already painted red like the moon. the clouds burn like a lighted tapestry in a cascade of flame. beside her, albaz, the dragon, leans his head down and nudges her waist. nudges her away. she gives him a look that makes your heart constrict, makes you want to rip it out of your chest, because [---] is yours. for as long as time has existed, he has been yours. you want to kill her. #3the other dragon crashes into you, roaring, thrashing as he tries to find a grip on your armor, claws scratching steel scales and digging in-between the gaps. pain shoots through your body like a bolt of electricity, but you grit your teeth and swing your tail into its side in retaliation. when it finally loosens its grip enough for you to shake free, you open wide your maw and clamp down on the crystalline scales adorning its hide, breaking through the barrier of ice and jade to puncture skin. it howls in response, shaking frantically as it tries to dislodge you, but you hunker down on your front talons and sink your teeth far enough until blood slips onto your tongue. beside, the young heir of the icejades cries in grief, the song resounding in echoes like steel chimes around the cavern, and it is the only sound amidst the battle that shakes you from your battle lust. sensing an opening, the other dragon slams its tail dead into your back, right between your wings, and you finally let go of its hide in reflex. it pulls away from you immediately, shaking, clutching its bleeding side, but you let him go. it stares at you, slitted eyes frantic, like you would pounce at any moment, but you don't. how did it come to this, you wonder? how could he have forgotten you? was it not always the two of you in the abyss together, for all time? was that not the promise? and yet, he tried to spread his wings and run away from you. upon finding him gone, you had burned the world down in response. if there was nothing here, then where could he go? it is only back to you - only back to your side - that he would be safe and loved. your tail thrashes in annoyance as you skulk closer and the other dragon shrinks back. even now, he rejects you. he rejects the memory of you. he remembers nothing. the iron is heavy on your tongue, dripping between your fangs, trailing onto the floor with a mix of saliva. you will take him back. you will. you must. #4it is… like feeling something click into place. wrapped in a warm embrace, someone to tuck him in for the night, read a bedtime story before he closes his eyes. there needed to be something in that abyss, in cold nothingness—albaz remembers now, more clearly. a breath brushes against his ear, something said that he can’t process. it’s like his whole body has been weighed down in lead, but the warmth of it all lulls him to peace, so gentle and kind. “———,” a voice says, so similar to his own. there is nothing but darkness around him. “we’re finally together again.” he knows this voice. something pricks at the edge of his memory but when he tries to grasp it, nothing but smoke wells up in his hands. there was nothing in the abyss. nothing but each other and eternity. “aluber?” the name tumbles from his mouth, clumsy, like he doesn’t know how to say it. “mhm,” the voice responds. something warm presses down on his neck. “aren’t you tired?” “a little,” he says, blinking. the darkness around him doesn’t change. “then sleep,” aluber’s hand touches his face, soft on his jaw, pushing a nail into his cheeks. “rest a while. isn’t that great?” albaz mumbles. “yeah…” he remembers this feeling from long ago—a portion of his memory he thought he lost. a feeling of gentle darkness, with its warm hands and silver tongue. like gently falling asleep next a fire, so peaceful… there is nothing to worry about as long as they were together. the abyss was theirs. yes—a little campfire in the abyss. with the two of them. it was all they ever needed. it was-- blonde eyelashes, lit aglow by the campfire, and a sagging cage that seemed to sink into the dirt. the desert is so very cold at night but there was no where else to go. let’s set up camp here, she’d said, smiling through the weariness of her frame. miles and miles away from home. ”you don’t have a name?” albaz startles, jolting like a wave of cold water crashing into rocks. no, he can’t sleep here. there was someone waiting outside. the abyss wasn’t his home anymore. ”then how about…” “where are you going again?!” something roars, like a fell dragon. it fills his ears and makes him wince, but albaz scrambles to his feet, holding his head. he needs to get out. needs to get back to her. the girl who gave him his name. ”albaz… it’s white, like your blank memories. we can paint all over it!” “ecclesia!” #5the girl sitting across from you is quiet and reserved, her eyes blank as she stares at the array of food on the table, strands of white hair drooping forward to cover bits of her vision. in front of her lies a spread of pomegranates, apples, and raspberries - hard to find items in the midst of war, but it is not like anyone in dogmatika nation needed to eat anymore. neither did you, really.
contrasted against the white marble of the table, the flooring, and the pillars around you, there exists only bright red. your favorite color. when she came to you, mute and unresponsive, you dressed her in crimson and velvet, so that perhaps there was even one thing you could like about her. still, she stares into space continuously, never saying a word, her eyes perpetually blank. when you raise a hand absentmindedly, she copies your motion. when you stand up, she does as well. and when you sit down and pick up a knife, so does she. a little while ago, you had wanted for nothing but her death for stealing what was yours. but this girl in front of you is nothing like the girl with fire in her eyes and a hammer in hand as she stared down the grotesque horrors of your corrupted despians. what was her name again? ecclesia? "i don't like your name," you say aloud, putting an elbow on the table and leaning your cheek into your hand lazily. "do you?" she doesn't answer. you pick up a fork and spear it through the skin of a sliced apple, watching as the juices flow down onto the plate. you offer it to her. "ecclesia is the name of a girl who stole something from me," you continue, talking to her, but mainly to yourself. in her current state, she could not respond without your permission, nor did she even have an answer to anything you asked. "i hate that. let's get you a new one." finally, she opens her mouth, though no sound comes out. you shove the apple slice down her throat until she chokes. "you're cartesia now. remember it."
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Authorfind me on twitter @octomaidly ArchivesCategories |