APPOLOGIES, I HAD TO REDO THIS PART. IT WAS BUGGING ME.
A kingdom burning in fire.
There is nothing worse than seeing the peaceful place you were born in crumble to the ground in a matter of minutes. A single man calling himself King strides through the castle of thorns like he owns the place, thick wine blood dripping down his sword. The jewels of the kingdom have fallen, a suffocating sea of blue and orange swallowing everything it touches, strange men drag people on to the streets. . . the ones who couldn't escape at least.
The city is dead.
By fate or punishment I survived, cursed with the emblems painted on the metal arms and chests forever haunting my mind. Cursed with the scars of my sin.
A motionless body.
I let it happen.
Eyes that would not open.
I was weak. Scared.
Hair dyed red.
I killed her because I wasn't fast enough, wasn't strong enough.
But never again.
Death will be given to those who deserves it. . .
. . . what ever it takes.
Our hearts beat, but who says we are alive?