i reiterate: this is a hot mess
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15 Jul 2019
He often wondered if they could have somehow avoided this; or perhaps they were what caused this to happen in the first place. They had most likely brought this upon themselves. The hate fell from his fingertips in violent rage.
How fragile, their light. She took in the red skies and breathed in the iron soaked air. It was their duty, their honour to fight for a better world than this one. But they were children, thrust into war; and once it ends, what would they become?
He could have done more, could have been more decisive. Was this his legacy, to watch all he loved burn before him? He laced his fingers with hers as the inky destruction slipped past his lips in anguish. He once swore to always do right by her; it was time for him to make good on that promise.
He was entrusted with the future; and he was being crushed by all he was meant to carry. This was probably his end, he could feel it. But as pure energy crackled and coursed through him, several voices from the past screamed out in defiance, in a prayer to go beyond.
They had not given up yet. Neither would he.
- Part 1 of Legacy of the Thought