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No… It was not her fault. She saw the Alexandrian soldiers at Cleyra’s trunk, it was their disturbance which wrought such doom. She slowly collected herself, bringing her hand to her chest in an attempt to soothe her heart. Freya raised her spear and pulled up, standing on her feet and quickly scanning her surroundings. She collapsed at the base of a great statue, right in front of the royal palace. With a deep sigh, she mustered the last ounces of strength as she commenced her climb.
Finally, as she reached the top, Freya allowed herself to take a small reprieve before entering the palace. Her sight was drawn to the statue, as it silently stood watch over the Burmecian kingdom, both in the time of peace and war. For a moment, she could’ve sworn that the statue itself wept from the horrors it witnessed. As the dread of such a thought slowly started to settle in, she turned around and entered the royal palace.
As she slowly walked through the darkened corridors, the echo of her footsteps disturbed the silence that festered in these halls. Stumbling through the dark, Freya’s paced breaths increased in frequency and her drenched fur slowly started to raise, betraying her uncertainty of what she will find in at the end. Swallowing her fear, Freya pressed on, when finally she reached the end of the corridor, finding herself on the balcony overlooking the throne chamber.
She looked around, scouring for any potential dangers hidden amongst the rubble. Aside from the ruined decorum and collapsed ceiling, throne room stood as it was the last time she was here. Rows of statues stood watch over the room, pillars still standing and supporting the structure, while the throne itself stood in defiance to the constant barrage of rain which poured through the damaged roof.
Hahaha...hahaha….haha…
Freya flinched in fear and readied her weapon as she heard a laughter echo through the chambers, eyes darting to find the source. Futile. She stood in silence once more, apart from the constant sound of rain which graced her every step of the way. Reluctantly, she made her way to the throne, while on the constant lookout for potential danger. “Who was that?” She thought, allowing the noise of her thoughts dampen her surroundings once more. Laughter born of mockery, one name stood out over others.
“Beatrix…”
She tightened her grip around the spear as she uttered that name, the wretch that brought so much suffering to her that the mere thought of her name filled her with anger.
“Beatrix… hahaha… hahaha… Beatrix…”
The name and laughter rang in her head, jumping from ear to ear in a loop. Her walls once more suffering breaches as she etched closer to the throne. “Beatrix… hahaha… failure… defeated… hahaha…” More and more memories flooded her mind, recounting her defeat at Beatrix’s hand, only to leave her wounded to bleed out on the floor, denying her a warriors death. With every step, her agony of that moment increased, the weight upon her heart threatening to once more be too much for her legs to hold.
“How pathetic… Just like Fratley…”
Freya turned around, and saw the source of the voices. Beatrix, standing a spears length away from her position, drenched in Burmecian blood and with a sword ready to strike. Without a moments hesitation, Freya lunged her spear right at Beatrix’s heart, only for her to simply dodge to the side, not even bothering to parry. Keeping her distance, Freya continued her assault, mustering all of her strength behind every strike, accompanied by a cry of frustration as every single one of them failed to land.
“Hahaha…Is this the best Burmecia has to offer…? Hahaha… Useless rat…calling herself Dragoon… Hahaha… ”
Beatrix continued to mock Freya’s aggression, effortlessly dodging and dancing around her attacks. “Best to show you how a real warrior fights… hahaha…” Suddenly, Beatrix raised her sword and in an instant lunged towards Freya, aiming for her chest. Caught by surprise, Freya quickly dashed backwards, raising her spear in the anticipation of the blade, only for it to effortlessly cut through the blade like it was mist.
“Hahaha… haha… ha…”
Freya’s eyes widened in shock as the aberration vanished before her. An illusion? Or did her mind finally snap from all the torment she endured? Panic washed over her, unable to comprehend what she just witnessed, releasing her grip on the spear and letting it fall, soon herself collapsing as she wrapped her arms around her chest, breathing heavily.
Once more she found herself under the assault of agonizing memories. Name of her love, Fratley, rang in her head from the moment it was uttered by the Beatrix’s ghastly aberration. He was her everything, and she could scarcely believe it herself when she saw him in Cleyra after so many fruitless years of search, only for her heart to be shattered to pieces as he no longer remembered her, and now he likely laid amongst the dead in Cleyran’s sands.
Tears ran across Freya’s cheeks, overcome by grief she let out a scream which echoed through the chamber, full of pain and sorrow. Everything she did through her life, everything she trained for, everything she loved and held dear, was now gone. Her spear laid before her, a sour reminder of her call as a Dragoon of Burmecia.
“A failed Dragoon of a kingdom gone…” She thought.
Slowly she reached for the spear and tried to support herself in an attempt to stand up, but the exhaustion finally caught up to her as she could barely keep her hands on the spear itself.
“There is nothing for me here…” she sobbed while looking around the chamber with an empty expression. Statues remained still throughout the ordeal, standing in silence as they witnessed Freya’s suffering.
“There is… no more… hope…”
The moment she uttered those words, her spirit finally succumbed. She came in search of hope in the most unlikely of places, only to find it buried under the rubble, nowhere to be found. She felt cold, like the stone beneath her feet.
She began to petrify…
Incredible art done by: nonnoko_nonko
Make sure to give them a follow!
Story by me.
Want to get in touch? Feel free to message me here, or on the following platforms:
glanix_
Glanix_
[NOTE]: Please do not use my OC without asking for permission first!
No… It was not her fault. She saw the Alexandrian soldiers at Cleyra’s trunk, it was their disturbance which wrought such doom. She slowly collected herself, bringing her hand to her chest in an attempt to soothe her heart. Freya raised her spear and pulled up, standing on her feet and quickly scanning her surroundings. She collapsed at the base of a great statue, right in front of the royal palace. With a deep sigh, she mustered the last ounces of strength as she commenced her climb.
Finally, as she reached the top, Freya allowed herself to take a small reprieve before entering the palace. Her sight was drawn to the statue, as it silently stood watch over the Burmecian kingdom, both in the time of peace and war. For a moment, she could’ve sworn that the statue itself wept from the horrors it witnessed. As the dread of such a thought slowly started to settle in, she turned around and entered the royal palace.
As she slowly walked through the darkened corridors, the echo of her footsteps disturbed the silence that festered in these halls. Stumbling through the dark, Freya’s paced breaths increased in frequency and her drenched fur slowly started to raise, betraying her uncertainty of what she will find in at the end. Swallowing her fear, Freya pressed on, when finally she reached the end of the corridor, finding herself on the balcony overlooking the throne chamber.
She looked around, scouring for any potential dangers hidden amongst the rubble. Aside from the ruined decorum and collapsed ceiling, throne room stood as it was the last time she was here. Rows of statues stood watch over the room, pillars still standing and supporting the structure, while the throne itself stood in defiance to the constant barrage of rain which poured through the damaged roof.
Hahaha...hahaha….haha…
Freya flinched in fear and readied her weapon as she heard a laughter echo through the chambers, eyes darting to find the source. Futile. She stood in silence once more, apart from the constant sound of rain which graced her every step of the way. Reluctantly, she made her way to the throne, while on the constant lookout for potential danger. “Who was that?” She thought, allowing the noise of her thoughts dampen her surroundings once more. Laughter born of mockery, one name stood out over others.
“Beatrix…”
She tightened her grip around the spear as she uttered that name, the wretch that brought so much suffering to her that the mere thought of her name filled her with anger.
“Beatrix… hahaha… hahaha… Beatrix…”
The name and laughter rang in her head, jumping from ear to ear in a loop. Her walls once more suffering breaches as she etched closer to the throne. “Beatrix… hahaha… failure… defeated… hahaha…” More and more memories flooded her mind, recounting her defeat at Beatrix’s hand, only to leave her wounded to bleed out on the floor, denying her a warriors death. With every step, her agony of that moment increased, the weight upon her heart threatening to once more be too much for her legs to hold.
“How pathetic… Just like Fratley…”
Freya turned around, and saw the source of the voices. Beatrix, standing a spears length away from her position, drenched in Burmecian blood and with a sword ready to strike. Without a moments hesitation, Freya lunged her spear right at Beatrix’s heart, only for her to simply dodge to the side, not even bothering to parry. Keeping her distance, Freya continued her assault, mustering all of her strength behind every strike, accompanied by a cry of frustration as every single one of them failed to land.
“Hahaha…Is this the best Burmecia has to offer…? Hahaha… Useless rat…calling herself Dragoon… Hahaha… ”
Beatrix continued to mock Freya’s aggression, effortlessly dodging and dancing around her attacks. “Best to show you how a real warrior fights… hahaha…” Suddenly, Beatrix raised her sword and in an instant lunged towards Freya, aiming for her chest. Caught by surprise, Freya quickly dashed backwards, raising her spear in the anticipation of the blade, only for it to effortlessly cut through the blade like it was mist.
“Hahaha… haha… ha…”
Freya’s eyes widened in shock as the aberration vanished before her. An illusion? Or did her mind finally snap from all the torment she endured? Panic washed over her, unable to comprehend what she just witnessed, releasing her grip on the spear and letting it fall, soon herself collapsing as she wrapped her arms around her chest, breathing heavily.
Once more she found herself under the assault of agonizing memories. Name of her love, Fratley, rang in her head from the moment it was uttered by the Beatrix’s ghastly aberration. He was her everything, and she could scarcely believe it herself when she saw him in Cleyra after so many fruitless years of search, only for her heart to be shattered to pieces as he no longer remembered her, and now he likely laid amongst the dead in Cleyran’s sands.
Tears ran across Freya’s cheeks, overcome by grief she let out a scream which echoed through the chamber, full of pain and sorrow. Everything she did through her life, everything she trained for, everything she loved and held dear, was now gone. Her spear laid before her, a sour reminder of her call as a Dragoon of Burmecia.
“A failed Dragoon of a kingdom gone…” She thought.
Slowly she reached for the spear and tried to support herself in an attempt to stand up, but the exhaustion finally caught up to her as she could barely keep her hands on the spear itself.
“There is nothing for me here…” she sobbed while looking around the chamber with an empty expression. Statues remained still throughout the ordeal, standing in silence as they witnessed Freya’s suffering.
“There is… no more… hope…”
The moment she uttered those words, her spirit finally succumbed. She came in search of hope in the most unlikely of places, only to find it buried under the rubble, nowhere to be found. She felt cold, like the stone beneath her feet.
She began to petrify…
Incredible art done by: nonnoko_nonko
Make sure to give them a follow!
Story by me.
Want to get in touch? Feel free to message me here, or on the following platforms:
glanix_ Glanix_[NOTE]: Please do not use my OC without asking for permission first!
Category All / Fantasy
Species Unspecified / Any
Gender Any
Size 1597 x 1938px
File Size 2.37 MB
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