My Servant In Shining Armor ┃DNF ┃ Dream x George

The Letters Left Behind

A breeze brushed the tears to the side as they raced down George's cheeks.

His tender lip quivered as each compassionate leaf glided and cut through the air.

Winter only added to the rough pain George endured.

Sapnap had left for Sicarius the day after the execution.

The war had been called off.

With most men perished in battle, Sicarius Kingdom surrendered to Wisteria.

Dream's body was thrown in the back dumps of the kingdom.

That left George to retrieve Dream's body and bury him by himself.

George's clothes were stained burgundy. His nose stung from the rotting stench.

George couldn't bear seeing his friend in such a state. Dream's skin was washed out. His hands were a harsh cold. His body was taut; George stumbled many times along the way.

George decided to bury Dream in the place where they first met.

He never would've figured the same soil he fell in love on would be the same place his heart broke.

A jagged headstone was made out of the best rock George could find. George tried his best to engrave a message into the stone.

George came to the grave once more to mourn the loss of his closest companion.

"Here lies Dream,

a friend, a son, and most importantly a-"

George choked on his words. He resisted a sob.

George read the headstone aloud to himself many times before.

He tried to force himself to accept Dream's death.

He tried so very hard for his sake and sanity.

He kept reading the headstone to remind himself.

It never worked.

He always thought the doting grasp of the wind was Dream's gentle touch grazing George's shoulders.

He always entered the library looking for a concentrated blonde man pursuing the books.

He always entered the music room expecting to find Dream readying his violin before their next performance.

He always gazed out of the castle's windows, hoping to find a caring man tending to an ivory horse.

It never worked.

The entrance to the castle flew open abruptly and startled George out of his mourning state.

A wagon was being wheeled out of the castle. 

It contained piles of something foul.

Rotting bodies.

Bodies were piled on top of each other.

It must be the men who had died in the war.

War takes everything from everyone.

War had certainly taken something from George.

War had taken his reason to live in the world.

Now he wandered the Earth lost and looking for a reason to continue living.

His mind was momentarily distracted from the grave. As if something were luring him closer, George walked towards the palace and the wagon.

He carefully walked as he observed his surroundings.