Edith always wondered why the heavens had given her people the power to kill, why they had cursed her with the gift of poison, why they had condemned her to a life of murder. Or maybe it was an ability passed down through the ages, from parent to child. Maybe it was never her burden to bear alone. She would like to ask her mother and father if they were still alive somewhere. The fires that took her sister were different then, but looking at the burning castle reminded her of that night. She watched it burn from afar, her fur still singed and smelling of smoke. The memory of flames licking her skin was still fresh in her mind, but the sight of marble crumbling pained her far greater than any flesh wound could. Although its halls would only ever echo pain, it had weathered the test of time, overcome war and famine and still stood tall. As she gazed upon the rising blaze, she thought briefly about the memories that would die along with her kingdom and wondered if the heavens were crying too that night or if it was just the rain. |
by tinymush
|