Dust and Ashes ( Fan Fiction of Who Made Me A Princess)

Chapter 32 : The Raising of the Black Witch

Lucas was stepping his feet slowly, the wall was crumbling into hole as he passed and the fire still crackled. Night was still long enough to see, witnessing and stirred them into the darkness of each other's emotion. What parted them was only a thin string of pity Lucas still held on his hand. As he could still felt how once the death crawled through his body, giving him a nightmare of pain. As his hand went in wrinkles and his throat was burned by the curse, and this man, however, only left him all alone racked by the death he gladly gave.

"You're the one who made these lies, right? That now all people are adoring you and praising your name everytime it was being recalled, while you dumped your sins to another innocent people again?"

The golden light of the moon showered their porcelain plain face on bright. Lucas was still threatening, while by gripping the edge of the railing, Aethernitas stood in shivered. His blackened hair shimmering under the moon light, revealed himself in weak, old, and thin.

"I could never lie on you indeed, Lucas. But people love more the story of a Prince who saved his kingdom than a witch who destroy his own family for the throne. You've known it right that it would be happen, though you ignored it. Why don't you just ignore Athanasia now like you did before?"

"Don't say her name again by your silthy mouth!"

BRAK!

The wall was quivering once again, one because Lucas had bumped Karax to the wall and two, due to the energy that splattered recklessly from the anger on Lucas's hand. Two old enemies, stood side by side, black and red eyes met, roused a virulent energy around them.

"So it's true that you dear her that much? I don't know a person like you could love someone as bad as this."

"I won't spare your life for the second time if you dare to hurt Athanasia. You would better to go to hell as well since I still talk to you nicely."

"My, my, you should talk to the one who hold your love's life better. She's dying you know and my dust soon would bring her to her death."

Aethernitas paused and coughed, there were some bloods that were spatted out from that mouth. He even never counted how many forbidden and dark spells he has used to add some couples years of his life span. Until now, until he met again with someone from his past, Lucas, and pathetically, he hasn't already lived a glamorous life he was always blabbing about.

"I don't know that I happened to meddle into throne's fight between those sister. Jennete inherited my greed, but her energy only made me worse and that Alpheus she's with, only lecturing me this and that. Athanasia is the best energy I could get to replenish this damn body after fell on slumber just like you. I even still remembered how her face was crying looking for you. You sure know how she would end up once her energy was blown up but you didn't care. You even doubted your friend and keep chasing for the uncertain shadow I created. You forget that you have left your golden egg to your enemy's nest, so I played a little spell on her. I don't need her to be alive though, it would benefit me once she disappears."

Sometimes life was only like a striking of time, that we could be on peak and sometimes we were down in worst. That sometimes we were on dawn and sometimes we were in dark. Sometimes we see that life could be so blithe and we were walking on bright, while the light could be very bright sometimes, until we lost our stepped and didn't know where to aim more.

"This time, I don't want to be like you anymore, Lucas. I want her, your Athanasia."

BLAR!

Blunt by the new impulsive energy, Lucas released his hands off of the man's collar. Bright like a shooting star, his shadow was soaring into haze, sky was splattered by thousand of fireworks's bright. Down in the windy night and the cold noises sound, as the clock tolled for 12 times and Aethernitas's laugh filled the dried night, again, the history was repeated for its 200 years.

Moon to the dark, light for the night.

The fate took its own path to raise the devil of the dark. As the fire was aimed and the cheers for the excitement of New Year's Eve was burned, night turned to be red and the flame from the burned palaces could be seen clearly through the haze skies. It was too late to anyone for asking a help or for a cry. And both in each other's place, Lucas, Athanasia, could only witnessed the Saphhire palace being burned in deepened agony.

***

"It's 23."

"Are you sure?"

"Not even a single doubt."

The two knights were still busy for counting, scribbling the witches's name though mostly of them just resisted and groaned while the knights came and sent them the glare. The time was still dawn, the air was cold and the dried puff of air was just leaving each own mouths everytime they talked and chattered. Derian still examined the burnt grasses, his sparkly silver hair was dirt by some amount of ashes and only left his eyes to be the only thing that glinted under this dim surround.

The ground, however, was still burning in its haze, yet nobody couldn't saw what had happened between those short period of time. But as it could be seen clearer and the haze has been wiped out, the first thing to be seen was the golden haired woman in her pink dress was standing all alone with much lying body under her toes. Some chills crept to his neck, another goosebumps to be felt. He never expected Athanasia would be this stronger just between a year of practicing and he almost stunned at the sight.

"Princess Athanasia, the wizards had succeedly halted the rest of the troops. Being reported that Lord Izekiel is suffering some injuries, and the tower already brought him to be healed."

"Derian."

Their eyes were nailed together between the low light and the feel from some pull on his wrist stopped him from move. Blue like an ice, black like a somber night, the jeweled pierced solemnly through the witch's eyes. Derian doubted himself for all of kind the messed thoughts he heard from the girl's head. But everything was coming to its clear as the sword was being pulled close to his throat; to Derian's throat.
Athanasia was staring, two eyes were duelling in glare and stare.

"Could I trust you, Derian?"

***

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