Puller of Strings | Shatter and Strain III
"My Death in Vain"
This is my least favorite song ngl
Valor can not seem to take his eyes off of his dance partner, who lays on the throne room floor, red staining the floor. Valor peels his own blade from Reign's lifeless hands before he looks into Reign's empty amber eyes. They are filled with hope, malice, betrayal, and regret. The hero kneels down at the expired king's side, shedding cold tears of sorrow. He has done it. In the midst of their waltz, he has backstabbed his mortal enemy. He remembers Reign's large hands against his rough palms. His touch was filled with malice... and humanity.
Reign's body began to convulse, his dead golden eyes tinting black until the irises were small yellow dots. Valor stepped back in horror as his dance partner let out an inhuman roar. Puppet strings sprung out from the dead king's fingers and he sprung to his feet, his body jerking in horrific twisted jolts. Monstrous claws and scales pierced Reign's once human flesh.
Reign's god was not giving up.
Valor felt a tugging at his arms, he raises his sword. He was horrified, he was grieving. Reign was only a pawn as much as Valor is. Valor sensed his own puppet strings clearly. This new demon, whoever it is, this god, must be slain. He must tango with blood-stained blades and vile scales.
...Valor knew it was fruitless. Even at the demon at the edge of his blade, he knew they both were to reincarnate and battle once more.
Nonetheless, the two have waltzed in one reincarnation, they've exchanged words of empathy and expressed humanity. In one reincarnation, they understood the cards being played.
New Valors are born and new Reigns rise, the battle ensues until one faces their demise. They remain faithful, perhaps, one day, their gods will allow them to be freed from their curse.
Valor can not seem to take his eyes off of his dance partner, who lays on the throne room floor, red staining the floor. Valor peels his own blade from Reign's lifeless hands before he looks into Reign's empty amber eyes. They are filled with hope, malice, betrayal, and regret. The hero kneels down at the expired king's side, shedding cold tears of sorrow. He has done it. In the midst of their waltz, he has backstabbed his mortal enemy. He remembers Reign's large hands against his rough palms. His touch was filled with malice... and humanity.
Reign's body began to convulse, his dead golden eyes tinting black until the irises were small yellow dots. Valor stepped back in horror as his dance partner let out an inhuman roar. Puppet strings sprung out from the dead king's fingers and he sprung to his feet, his body jerking in horrific twisted jolts. Monstrous claws and scales pierced Reign's once human flesh.
Reign's god was not giving up.
Valor felt a tugging at his arms, he raises his sword. He was horrified, he was grieving. Reign was only a pawn as much as Valor is. Valor sensed his own puppet strings clearly. This new demon, whoever it is, this god, must be slain. He must tango with blood-stained blades and vile scales.
...Valor knew it was fruitless. Even at the demon at the edge of his blade, he knew they both were to reincarnate and battle once more.
Nonetheless, the two have waltzed in one reincarnation, they've exchanged words of empathy and expressed humanity. In one reincarnation, they understood the cards being played.
New Valors are born and new Reigns rise, the battle ensues until one faces their demise. They remain faithful, perhaps, one day, their gods will allow them to be freed from their curse.
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