Tales From Deserae

Chapter 1: Memories

(The picture does not belong to me, the credit goes to the respective owners.)

Falling. The light seemed to disappear from the sky, fading into the distance in a shade of orange. The sun, that shined a shimmering gold light, met with the horizon. Stars twinkled in the sky, as clouds slowly moved their way across the sky.

Overlooking the outskirts of the city, staring blankly down at the amidst of houses. Deserae sighed, closing her eyes slowly. How long had it been? When was it even?

Deserae could hear the slight, beautiful sounds from a piano in the distance, ringing a memory of Lilly in her head. She cared for her so much, why did she have to leave? Why did they kill her? Deserae knew why, the sword. The Prospheriatus was the reason of the kill. Millions of Knights slaughter one another over the sword, an endless road of death. The sword belonged to the first king of Xliphoria, riches country of Astramia.

King Richard Prospheriatus was a master swordsmen, he always carried his sword, and had even killed an uncountable number of royalty from foreign countries, including other kings. But fate took him by surprise as he died a slow death from illness. Ever since then, kings and Knights alike killed one another for the sword. Some battles got as bad as a stampead of people trying to kill one another, the only remainder standing in an pool of blood, surrounded by dead men and women in armor wielding swords in their hands and stomachs, resting peacefully under the red sky that seemed to reflect the mad scene.

Deserae was the one remaining, standing victorious under the dull sky. She had a good master, like the others did. Deserae was merely a diciple then, a servant forced into a contract with a master by fate. Deserae had been sent into a contract with a young, married man                    
with the surname "Atkinson". Spencer was his name, Remillia was hers, and of corse, the daughter, Lillian. She was respected by both Mr and Mrs. Atkinson very well. Many rumors on the street told of an affair between Deserae and Spencer, but Remillia knew the truth, and besides, she was too young. Deserae was merely fifteen at the time, wile Mr. Atkinson was in his late twenties. Their daughter, Lillian, used to love her, and they would play together in her spare time.

But the time her master had the sword where some of his final days. 
One night, wile they all slept, another diciple broke into the family mansion and tried to kill her. She managed to fumble away, but with a broken leg and quite is few scars on her abdomen. The diciple then killed Amillia, and dragged the weak Spencer down stairs to where he where holding Lily, and killed him. He let Lily cry next to her father and plead to be spared. She could not run away, for her leg was broken too. Then, quietly, Deserae watched, to her horror, as the man stabbed Lily, and left her to die, slowly. Deserae tried to save her, but her attempts where in vain. The man ran off with the Propheraitus, and had spared Deserae, when she just wished he had killed her. Being master-less was one thing, but not having Lillian in her life was another.

Deserae sighed, opening her eyes. The sky had turned a dark blue as the stars brightly twinkled. Painfully, Deserae laid herself down in the grass. Closing her eyes again, she became one with the silence.