Chapter Text
静かに瞬く
星たちの散り逝く空
届かぬ祈りが
天と地を満たしてた
(Stars that twinkle quietly,
Are scattered in the sky.
Prayers that could not be reached
Filled up the heavens and the ground.)
The stars flicker in the night sky, as the North wind blows up the Hoshidan High Prince’s hair. The moonlight shines on the pale white face, with Raijinto holding at his side. Standing on top of the Wall of Suzanoh, he faces the open ground. The clinging sound of armour, the moaning sound of horses, and the stepping sound of soldiers. The chatty voices on the ground below, as the Nohrian army step closer to Hoshido’s last defence.
Prayers has filled the sky - Prayers of his siblings; prayers of his people. Prayers for peace, and prayers for bloodshed.
A few days ago, the High Prince had just ended the late Queen’s life. Lightning sparkled around the room, as her head lied lifelessly on the ground. Blood covering the floor, as his younger sister ran away. Bringing the dear younger brother, she guided him to his escape. The flames burned, as the crowd searched for the missing Prince. Fireballs fell onto the ground, as the people celebrated the death of the Queen. The ceiling crumbled, as it buried his dear younger sister into the snow. As the castle burned down and crushed upon all his people.
And while his beloved country is on fire, the Nohrians came, marching towards the capital.
How it all started? The Hoshidan High Prince cracks a smile. When the Queen decided to save his captured brother in front of the army? When she lied upon all his people for his selfish revenge? When his siblings decided to distant him and his family breaks? Or when his youngest brother was first captured? Actually, at the moment he sighted his brother going further away, Takumi’s future had been sealed. His branch on the tree has already met its end, and has already forgotten what the future is. The light should have vanished when Takumi was brought into Nohr; when Queen Mikoto decided to give up on him. But somehow, it struggled - Refusing to accept his original fate; refusing to let this innocent come to an end. As if it is too keen to life and too guilty to let down his family, the branch grows its bud.
The bud that is destined to fall anyways.
Snow lands on the High Prince’s palm, as the cold wind hits his face. Droplets slide down the legendary blade’s sheath, as lightning flickers between them. Why so committed to blooming, when that blossom is going to fail anyways? Why try so hard to return to the family, when his presence is going to cause another disaster? He really felt relief the moment he saw Takumi coming back safe; he really felt the weight of his shoulder take off when the family could come sitting together. To see everyone’s smile and not worry about death - That was the best moment of his life! The time he ever had, he sweared, in his eighteen years.
Didn’t everyone see the branch that has lost his future bloom? Didn’t they see the golden fruit that he gives? Didn’t they see all the smiles and laughs around the plaza? Didn’t they feel how peace has once again covered Hoshidan air? Maybe that’s why he took a step forward - Took a step forward and reached out for the fruit. Caressed his brother’s hair and hoped he would forgive him. Stepped up and wished that his people would forgive his sins. Cried and prayed that the lies would finally come to an end.
Little did he know at the moment he touched the golden fruit, the world would start crumbling apart. At the moment he started caring for his brother, the pillars fell as the flames once again burned.
The wind blows as his brown hair floats in the wind. The soldiers are stepping closer, he hears, as the march gets louder. The Nohrians banner are getting near, as canons are dragged to the battlefield. All under the pure white snow, he sighs. All under the pure innocence that doesn’t know the brutality of war. He reaches out for a descending flake - Does it vanish when it finally know what warmth is? Does the innocence breaks when it get out of the cold truth? He fixes his eyes on the snow as it soon melt to droplets. The droplets then cluster together, before rolling off his hands and fall onto the ground. Why does the naive dream needs to break when he finally come to realise warmth? Why does the pure white shatter when it just get out of the storm? He really just want to embrace him - Hug him and cry out how much he begged when he was away. But when he try to put a little bit of love, their tale breaks - But this time, not only him, but also his dear little sister.
Is there anything called peace to begin with? Or has the world always been soaked in this requiem? Do his dear younger brother and sister deserve warmth? Or are they too innocent to fall on this blood-tainted world?
He really wanted them to smile. He really wanted to pull them into the storytale where no one dies. He really wants this tale to end with his family reuniting and gathering together as if nothing has happened.
Yet the truth is always brutal. The more he hopes for it, the more it is going to destroy him.
Actually, if none of them had made a move, maybe they could still be sitting on the same dining table - Chatting and laughing, even if the Queen has lied; even if the shadow has engulfed Takumi’s heart. Actually, if he hadn’t tried taking up the position and hadn’t strengthened the hatred, maybe nothing would have happened. It was that idealised dream of his that cut his sister in half - It was that beautiful dream of going back to those old days that ruin this whole country.
Even if her salmon eyes reflected the upcoming tragedy, he had done nothing but pushing the tragedy forward. Even if his siblings warned him, he had done nothing but embrace his peace-loving dreams. Maybe that’s why all they left him in the first place - Why Sakura refused to speak, and why she insisted on bringing Takumi out. Why Hinoka and Kamui left him, and why they all accused him as a murderer.
The droplet falls onto the ground as the marching echoes. Stars twinkle, as if they are trying to outshine the dark. The once faithful prayers are now binded by rage, angered at the sky betraying them. Angered at the empty Queen; yet sorrow because of their lost families. Overjoyed by the end of the Queen’s rule; yet feared by the incoming bloodshed. These prayers filled the whole sky, echoing upon each other. Crying out, screaming out until the once peace-loving sky has shattered into pieces. Until the never-ending darkness is pierced through, as the light once again reaches this realm.
If only the power of his people could change this tragedy. If only killing the Queen would end this requiem.
How many more times does this need to loop? How many more times do he need to lose someone important in his life? He could only crack a sad smile as the moon shone upon him. Gripping the legendary blade, he steps forward. Is he destined to walk on this path? He gazes at his blood-tainted hands - Blood of his brother; blood of the previous Queen; blood of his retainer; and blood of his people. Is he even doing this to redeem himself? He walks down the stairs and paces to where the Nohrian army is. But he has done too much wrong to go to heaven; too much wrong to be mourned upon his death; too much to deserve flowers on his grave. Sacrifice the bigger part of the country for his selfish gain; kill his own blood-related brother just for his ideology - His soul is already tainted with his own selfishness, indifferent from what the previous Queen had done.
Is this the punishment of not hearing his siblings out? Is that the punishment of failing to rescue his brother?
Landing on the open field, he gazes at the incoming army. Cavaliers piercing their way to through the crowd, and the mercenaries march towards the unbreakable wall. Outlaws sneak their way to the front, only to be shocked by the Hoshidan King’s presence. Pointing their arrows to his head, they cry out for help. The paladins then follow, so as the great knights. Gripping their weapons tight, their faces tense.
To fulfil the wish before he breaks. To end this requiem before any more people get sacrificed. To see the sky once again filled with light - That is the only thing he dreams for.
Taking a deep breath, he drops Raijinto onto the ground. “I am not here to fight.” His heart arches, as his eyes blink. A choke on his throat, he feels, as he forces his hands above his head. With the pain in his chest, he punctuated. “I am here to see King Garon. To surrender.”
It was first a shock from the crowd, followed by a few chitchats. But when the sound of the horn is made, the soldiers part their way to a blonde paladin. “Prince… King Ryoma of Hoshido.” He glares down at the solitary Hoshidan King. “Follow me and I will bring you to our King.”
Picking up the blade, the King walks past the crowd. Twinkling stars shine upon him, as if they are humming the final verse of the requiem. The unheard prayers are wandering around the air, flickering the way for the young Hoshidan. Whether this leads to the final end, or is just the start of another loop, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t even know whether there is an end to this series of chaos. But what needs to be done needs to be done - His people are crying out for a pair of wings, hoping that they would fly out of the dark. Their souls are playing out the chorus, as the song fills the never-ending night sky. And if that is what they wish for, then he, as the King of Hoshido, needs to be the one who reaches out for it.
And he, as the one who started these all, needs to be the one who put a stop to these chaos.
Another step, as the paladin reaches the most luxurious tent. The one for the Nohrian King, he assumes, as he takes a final glimpse at the twinkling night sky. Swiping the curtains aside, he enters the room - Nohrian officials are sitting at the side, with their King sitting across the table. But there is no kid - No sign of a child called ‘Leo’. Is Takumi currently with him? Is his should-be-dead brother now safe?
He tilts his lips up for a brief second, only to be showered by sniffs and glares. Why would he feel redemption when he had already pushed his blood-related brother to hell? Even if Takumi is still alive; even if, by the slimmest chance Takumi is still living well, the fact that he had given up on him is already unredeemable - He must have been tortured by the same people who are sitting on the table. His hands are tainted with his brother’s blood, dead or not. His heart is already haunted by his ‘wrong’ decision, even if someone had saved that dying blossom.
He could only shift back against the emotionless stares.
“King Ryoma of Hoshido.” The Nohrian King’s voice pierce through the air. Chatty officials are now silent. “Are you here for a surrender?”
“Yes.”
“Shouldn’t a Hoshidan King end himself before he falls into the hands of an enemy?”
“My siblings and my people will die if I perform seppuku.”
“Of course.”
It was first a blink. But with a bite on his lips, he chokes out. “Then I will gladly surrender myself for the life of my siblings and my people. I have lost too much to witness another important person fall beside me.”
The Nohrian King bursts into laughter as his voice echoes. “Is that it?” He speaks between his breaths. Covering his mouth, he glares down at the young King. “To give up on the tradition because of your own weakness. To ignore the wisdom of your ancestor solely because of ‘losing too much’. Shouldn’t a King be leading his people rather than pitying on them?”
The Hoshidan King could only look away from the crowd. To surrender in front of the enemy and to be embarrassed in front of the crowd - There is nothing more shameful as a Hoshidan King. Nothing more shameful to the country that values self-sacrifice. Never fall into the hands of an enemy , his Father has always reminded him. Because there is no saying what the enemy will do to you. Never bow down and beg for an enemy, because that is a shame on your samurai path.
He really hoped he could continue walking that road - A road where he doesn’t need to worry about his siblings. A world where his family are all together all along. If so, maybe he would have the courage to end himself. Maybe he could still complete his samurai path, even if he was the last one standing. But now, his hands are covered with his brother’s and the late Queen’s blood; his shoulders carry the weight of his three last siblings. Last three, that is, and he would not be able to survive without any of them.
He just has done too much wrong to beg for mercy. Too much blood to deserve a dignified life.
“I see, young King. The darkness that is engulfing you.” A smirk, he could feel, as the Nohrian King continues. “I would never deny a surrender, Hoshidan King. But seeing you as an inexperienced King, are you aware that Hoshido is the last part of land Nohr has yet to conquer? If your wish is to protect your people, then you should be prepared for how much you need to sacrifice.”
“Yes, I am aware of that, King Garon.”
Resting on his knuckles, the Nohrian King grins. “Hope that you won’t be talking empty speeches just like the late Queen.” A giggle and he beckons his subordinate to track down their speech. With a curl on his fingers, he demands the Hoshidan King to look up. “To protect your people and save your only capital - Is that all you ask for, King Ryoma?”
“Yes. The land inside the walls of Suzanoh will still be Hoshido, but all the ones outside it are Nohr's.” The Hoshidan King pauses, as he gazes up at the dark king. “And my people - I would ask for the safety of all of them. With this surrender, Nohr would not be able to kill them, nor to enslave them. This includes people who are in the land you’ve conquered - Lands that will not be ‘Hoshido’ anymore. And people who are not currently Hoshidan anymore…”
“People who are not currently Hoshidan? What do you mean by that, King Ryoma?”
Ryoma could only glance around the room before lowering his head. “Prince Takumi, that is.” He whimpers out in his softest voice. “If Prince Takumi is ever in your land, please do not kill nor torture him. I know I have exiled him from the Hoshidan Royal family, thus I don’t have the right to speak such. Even then, please keep him safe if he is ever alive.”
The room is soon filled with despising laughs. To save the dog you’ve kicked from your family? To beg for the blood-related brother’s life? He could hear them echoing around the room. Are they wrong? Certainly they aren’t. He was, as much as he hates to say that, the one who pushed his brother to hell. He was the one who shoved him out of this comforting castle and called him a traitor. Maybe that’s why he would be willing to bow down, even if that means begging the enemy to have mercy at his traitor. Even if that means throwing off his pride as a Royal, he still hopes Takumi will live the best.
By now, he doesn’t even know if it is guilt or the crown that drives him.
A slap on the table, as the nobles force their mouth shut. “That is quite a request, King of White Night. Not only to save your tiny capital, but to also protect all your citizens.” Crossing his hands. the Nohrian King leans back. “We cannot ensure the safety of every single one of your people. There are, after all, landlords that are not in our control.” He punctuates, waiting for the other King’s nod. “We, however, can ensure that the Nohrian Royal will not be capturing any Hoshidan civilians - Including your dear Prince Takumi, if he is ever alive.”
Another slight nod from the Hoshidan King as he silently thanks the Dragons. At least everyone else is safe, he mutters in his heart. At least he could still save the ones who are living. Ones that have suffered enough from their mistakes.
And that is all he needs.
“So for the price.” A low groan from the older King. “No way that giving us the field we can conquer is a trade for the surrender, Hoshidan King. To repay for the mistakes you have made; To protect all your dear citizens, what are you planning to give?”
“Firstly, we will provide Nohr with half of the crops...”
“Ninety percent of all the inventory you have.”
Eyes widened, the Hoshidan King could only bite his lips. “Seventy.” He could only whisper out with so much energy. “Or else my people will not have enough to eat.”
“You’re not in a position of negotiating, Hoshidan King. How much will you give for the safety of all your people? Aren’t you prepared for the sacrifice? If so, don’t act like your ignorant late Queen.”
“Eighty. Even then…”
“Then we cannot ensure the safety of your dear brother, young King. Are you going to let him undergo the same torture again, the peace-loving King?”
Clenching his fist, the Hoshidan King could only give in. “Ninety that is.” He muffles with tears hiding behind his eyes. “Ninety of the current inventory.”
“And of each year's harvest.”
As much as the King is angered, he is powerless to change it. A loser has no say, and he has set the requirements too high to negotiate. Bow down and follow what the Nohrian King says - That is all he could do. Washed by the road of destiny and let the Dragon tug the strings - He is nothing more than a puppet in this grand scheme of things.
This is how powerless he is. How ignorant he is.
“What else will you give, Hoshidan King?” He doesn’t even know if that is impatience or dominance. A cling of the metal gauntlets, as the Nohrian officials glare at him. “No way the crops will fill up the loss we have.”
The young King could only mutter out in return. “We will reduce the size of our army to a third of what it is. With such a small army, we would not be able to riot against Nohr. This is only needed to protect ourselves against thieves and bandits.”
“I see. One third that is.” The Nohrian King’s wicked lips tilt up. His body tilts to the side as his hazel eyes shoot at the White Night King. “But what can we do to ensure they do not rebel against us? What will you do to prove that what you say is not an empty lie?”
“We would not be able to rebel with such a small size. All of them are destined…”
“So much of a naive dream, young King.” The grin he hates. The smirk that is filled with mischievous. The laughs of the King of Conquest, as if no amount of sacrifice will fulfil his greed. “With the current King - The son of the greatest King in Hoshido - The wielder of the legendary blade Raijinto, isn’t that normal for people to have hopes in you? As long as there is still a breath in the wielder, shouldn’t he try everything to retaliate against injustice?”
“Why would I do so when…”
“The late Queen has said the same - To guide Hoshido in peace. To set up a barrier so that Hoshido will be protected from Nohr. Even then, didn’t she start a war against us? Didn’t she bring her army and conquer our land? Who would trust the words from her successor, especially when he is ‘the Chosen One’?”
Wicked laughs, as if making fun of how pathetic he is. Evil smiles, as if teasing how powerless he is. What can he do to prove himself? But he, as much as he hates to say this, is lying through his way as well. To be a faithful and honest King - As much as he wants to be that, all he did was follow the late Queen's footsteps. To cover his bloodshed with empty lies, to hide his brutality under the glorious crown - In the end, he is doing the same thing as the Queen.
He just can’t blame the Nohrians for not trusting him.
“Will you walk yourself up the guillotine, young King? Commit suicide so that your people will lose their last hope? When they realise all they left are three Royal children, so that the thought of rioting will vanish from their mind?”
But if he cannot prove himself, his siblings will suffer. If he ends here, then the tragedy will continue. If someone needs to suffer from these events, then let him be the only one. Let him be the only one who sells his soul and walk through the path of thorns.
A life for a thousand - Isn’t that a good trade?
Holding the legendary blade, he whispers. “I cannot let myself die.” It is a soft murmur. A sad whimper he hopes will only be heard by the Nohrian King. “I have too much on my shoulders. So much that even the guillotine blade cannot cut though. If I end myself, these burdens will be passed onto my siblings. They would need to undergo the suffrage I should have been through. Torture by his neverending chaos because of my death. Chained into this wicked fate because of my disappearance.”
Let him be the only one carrying the weight. Let him be the only one enslaved by the Nohrian rule.
“So what are you going to do, young King? To save all your people, your siblings and yourself - This is not an option you have.”
His muscles shiver, as the lightning blade trembles in his grip. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath. His thumb runs through the legendary sword’s handle - Such a beautifully crafted blade. Such a heroic weapon that is created by the Dawn Dragon. The sweat of the previous Kings and the weight of the country - They are all sealed in this blade. Their aura has been passed down for centuries, and he will soon end them all.
Didn’t he say people will only look up to the wielder of Raijinto? Didn’t he say hope will only sprout if there is someone they would put them with?
“This might not mean much to Nohr.” His voice is getting hoarse, he hears, as his lips shiver. “Neither can this balance the demands I had made.” He punctuates and detaches the scabbard from his waist. Raising the blade up, his heart sinks. The pride as a King; the duty as the leader of Hoshido - He could only silently bow down as he lifted it up with both his hands.
History will write him as a coward.
“This blade, Raijinto, has been passed down from the first Hoshidan King.” It was a shivering whisper. A frightened voice choked out forcefully.
His descendents will call him a loser.
“One can name themself as the Hoshidan King only with this blade in his hand. One can only guide the Kingdom of Light to glory when he is chosen by this legendary weapon.”
But if that is enough to stop the flames.
The quivering fingers hold the blade tight, as he takes a deep breath.
Then it is worth tainting himself in black.
“This legendary blade will be passed to the next Nohrian King - This is the sign of which proves Hoshido’s defeat. The sign of which despair is the only thing in Hoshdians’ eyes.”
Trembling hands and a quivering blade. Low giggles and teasing laughs. Are they the voice of the future? He won’t be surprised if that is how people will look at him. The person who pushed Hoshido to the brim of extinction; the pathetic King who surrendered himself to the Nohrians - This is how history will remember him. How the flow of time will always mark him as the great evil.
Maybe that is what he deserves for embracing the bloodshed.
“Handing over the legendary blade for the life of you and your people.” The Nohrian King groans. A tilt of his finger, and he beckons his subordinate to take it. “Giving up the country’s future for the people who are now living.” Taking over the lightning sword, he traces off the patterns on the scabbard. "Aren’t you a slave of your own people? A puppet of your people’s expectations?”
Silence - That is all he could reply to him. Quietness - That is all he gets after surrendering himself.
Laughs echo the room, as the once blue lightning is now tainted in darkness. “So be it. So be it.” The Nohrian King speaks between his chortle. “If you want to carry the burden of your people; if you want to be a sacrificial lamb so much, then so be it - Give in to Nohr and be a good old puppet. Be an empty King and convince your people to obey our rules.”
Flickering eyes - That is all he could do against the Nohrian rule. Clenching fist - That is all he could do against the despising speech.
“Submit yourself and bind to the curse. Embrace the darkness and be the eyes and ears of Nohr. Betray your beloved country and we will protect the ones you cherish.” Resting on his knuckles, his crimson eyes stare down at the shivering King. “Isn’t that what you beg for so much? A life for a thousand - Isn’t that a good trade?”
His legs shift, as his bangs cover his face. Squeezing his eyes shut as he takes a deep breath. Quivering muscles and trembling arms. Shivering fingers and flickering eyes - Fear is building inside him. An unknown power pulling him back everytime he tries to move forward. But what must be done needs to be done; what needs to happen will eventually happen. The requiem has to come to a stop; the chaos has to die out; and the burning flames need to extinguish - Only that he can see the light of tomorrow.
Only then, peace will return to his lost homeland.
“It is a deal.” It was first a low whisper. An uncertain voice that chokes the sentence out. “I will do it.” He repeats more firmly, tilting his head up and gazing at the King. “I will be your puppet, King Garon - Submit to your rule and bind myself to the endless curse. I will be the eyes and ears of Nohr - Betray the country I love and put an end to this chaos. Only then, you will let go of my people. Only then you will let my siblings live, right?”
A smirk, or is it more of a grin? He could only hear the clinging sound of the armour and the despising laughs from the officiers. “Well said, King Ryoma.” Shackling sound of the gauntlets as the Nohrian King stands up. “Pleased to have you joining us, the boy chained by the fate of his people.” Light flickers, as the shadow slowly engulfs him. With a stomp of the dark King, the soldiers circle around him. A raise of his hand, and the dark mages take their tomes out.
Only then, he will be the sole person suffering.
“Now, poor boy.” Crossing his hand, the Nohrian King glares down at him. Heavy steps, as he slowly approaches. “Take off the armour and we will cast you the spell. Brand yourself with the Nohrian emblem and submit to the dark, King of White Night.”
A final raise of his eyebrow, as the Nohrian King’s crimson eyes stare into his hazel ones. A shiver down his spine, as his muscle twitches in fear. How much he wants to cry; how much he wants to end himself - This is not something he can put in words. How much he wants to get away from this fate; how much he hopes for an end - This is not something that he can categorise in a scale of one to one hundred. The Hoshidan King branded with the Nohrian emblem; the King of White Night bowing down to the enemy - Who would even hope for such an ending? Who would even be willing to do this? Who would choose to walk the path of suffrage when he can end himself painlessly?
Pushing himself up, he takes off the shoulder pieces. Moving his hands to the back of his obi, he could only silently untie his armour. This is all for the lives of his people, he removes the chest piece. All for his remaining siblings, he slides down the gauntlets. A fruitful future for the ones he loves. A blooming blossom for his dear siblings. A warm spring breeze for his now burned homeland, and the skies filled with Sakura petals.
If he wants to return to those good old days; if he wants to regain care and love in this peace-loving country, then he will first need to walk past the road of thorns.
A final push of the sleeves, the kimono slides down from his arms. Freezing winter breaths wrap round his skin, as the senseless snowflakes touch his skin. A gasp from the crowd around, but a grin from the Nohrian King. The soldiers push him down to a kneeling position, as the dark mages place their hands on his back. Muffling the long spell, the Dark King speaks.
“Let it start, Hoshidan King.” Another cling of the armour, followed by him crossing his hands. “Bind yourself with the endless curse and be a good puppet of Nohr.”
An arching pain on his back, as the magic slowly corrodes his skin. He squeezes his eyes tight, hiding the tears before anyone sees it. Biting his lips, he stops the pained groan before anyone can hear it. He tries flickering his eyes open, but all he sees are the scenes of the burning castle. The time where Takumi was captured, the moment when Kamui and Hinoka left him. The nightmares he had had when the youngest Hoshidan Prince was away, and the argument he had with the late Hoshidan Queen. It is followed by the secret meetings between the older three siblings, and the red coronation. The blood filled the scene red, and ended with his dear brother dying off in this senseless snow.
The requiem echoes, as the pure white snow touches his cheek. A slight gasp from the Hoshidan King before he groans in pain. Burning pain on his back, he feels, accompanied by teasing laughs from the people beside him. Despising glares, calling him a puppet of Nohr. Hated speech, naming him as the most cowardly King of all. A push on his back, and he feels the Nohrian emblem branded on his back. A sign of submission, that is, and a proof of cowardness.
“It won’t show if you are wearing your normal clothing, Hoshidan King.” With the lightning blade on his hand, the Nohrian King smirks. Taking a few steps back, he returns to his previous seat. “We still need your people to trust you, poor King. Only then we can have Hoshidans earning bowing down on us peacefully - Only then can you protect your innocent people.”
“As you wish, King Garon… Your Majesty.”
A narrow of the Nohrian King’s eyes, as he slowly puts on his armour. A blink of his eyes, and he feels the unknown force dragging power out of his body. The curse is now bound to his soul; the flat dirt road is now replaced with thorns and vines. The chains of destiny are now tied to his limbs, controlling every single one of his movements. His path of fate has been rewritten into a tragic tale, and his future will be nothing but darkness.
But now, he will be the only one suffering. Now, he can indeed protect the people he cherishes.
“Remember that: If I sense a slight rebellion out of you,” The Nohrian King’s eyebrow lowers, as his crimson eyes darkness. “If I see anything against Nohr from your eyes; if I hear anything disobeying our rules, then your beloved people will pay.”
A slight nod. A silent agreement from the Hoshidan King. “Yes, your Majesty.” He could only force it out so much. “My life is Yours.” He could only bow down to absolute power.
This is a solitary path he chooses to take. A thorny path he walks alone as the King. History will then write him as a coward. His sins will drag him into an eternal hell. At the moment he surrendered himself, the future he had had has died off. The blossom on his branch has fallen down. The vines are now cracking their roots into his veins, and squeezing out every single drop of nutrient out of this withered branch. The tree will soon collapse, with dying petals floating around the spring air.
With this, the tragedy can finally come to an end.
Giving a final gaze at the legendary blade, the paladin brings him out of the tent. The stars shine upon the night sky, flickering in this ending night. Silently looking at what he has done; quietly guiding him out from the path of dreams and tales. The blue moon lights his solitary path, with the Nohrian crowd booing beside him. Despising and hated gaze; Scorns and loathe at the corrupting light kingdom - He could only close his eyes shut. The snow melts upon touching his armour, as the pure white contaminates into pitch black. The North wind hits his face, freezing his sinking heart into deep ice.
The King of White Night, isn’t it? The King that is covered with cold heartbreaking truth. The King that is destined to walk through this eternal darkness.
When he reaches the wall, he turns back and faces the open ground - The land that used to be Hoshido; the land that is now Nohr. The land where blood has tainted; the land where snow has sealed. But soon, peace will be brought back to this land; soon, grass will sprout from this barren ground; soon, the sakura will bloom, covering the crimson red soil with pure white petals.
The requiem has finally come to a stop.
“Don’t be so naive, King Ryoma.” When he was about to turn back, the paladin interrupted. “The reality is much crueler than you thought, Hoshidan King.”
He widens his eyes, but gives a soft nod regardless. “Thanks.” He whispers before lowering his head. “You are…?”
The blonde paladin narrows his eyes before looking away from the Hoshidan King. “Not someone you need to know of, young King.” With a tug on the reins, he turns his horse around. Leaving the Hoshidan King with a confused gaze, as he disappears in the crowd of soldiers. As the cruel angel's breaths touch his face.
He could only drop his focus onto the ground.
Passing the wall, he walks back to the castle in silence. The moon shines his path, as the stars flicker out their fulfilled prayers. Thanking him for his sacrifice, sympathising him for the road he needs to take. The voices of his people echo, as the outro resounds between the floating snow. Another step forward, he staggers through the castle corridor - The pitch dark corridor that is burned by flames. The crumbling pillars that have fallen apart. But as the spring wind blows the sakura petals in, the aisle will once again be filled with light. Once again, they will return those good old days.
The dawn will rise, very soon.
With a hand supporting him, he stumbles to the youngest sister’s room. Now, the chaos has ended; now, no more needs to sacrifice from his mistakes. The people he cherishes can finally be in peace; the siblings he loves can finally get away from the bloodshed. With the curse binding on him, the country he swears to protect can finally return to its original fate.
He pushes the door open, as the moonlight shines onto the white blanket. With Kamui and Hinoka sitting at the side, their puffy red eyes stare back at him. The North wind blows, as the last pansy petal falls down. Floating on the senseless wind, and landing on the pale cold face.
静かに瞬く
星たちの散り逝く空
届かぬ祈りが
天と地を満たしてた
(Stars that twinkle quietly,
Are scattered in the sky.
Prayers that could not be reached
Filled up the heavens and the ground.)