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When footsteps follow the rhythm of music, will it produce an eye-catching view? shall the spotlight gathers around it and left the audience in awe? In a platform surrounded by different gazes of critique, satire is given if performed wrong. It is either they do good or great, for the word worst are for those whose ready to face their last.
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A pinnacle of this is Rimuru Tempest, the crown prince of the monarchy of Jura. However, strip the power of lineage and the ability to rule, the next leader must dance with the demon, Diablo. It was because of that demon that invited him much better threatened him to dance without giving clear reason why. "I humbly object his request. A mere prince is quite preposterous to be nigher with him. Kindly deliver this word to him or formally sent a lett—" Rimuru was interrupted when Diablo appeared in his window, letting the cold breeze of wind inside his room.
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"I have given you all the means to be closer to me, my humbled Prince." Diablo stated with a smirked on his lips. The servant in the room dared not to give a glance and quickly lowered his gaze, Rimuru took noticed of the hesitant lad. "Disregard what I've said, you can leave." Rimuru ordered as he watched the servant almost running just to get out.
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"Have you lost your sense of direction to enter at such limited space?" without giving a look, Rimuru continued to busy himself with papers that are in front of him. "Have you lost your respect to fail to greet me?" The raven responded as he leisurely took a seat across Rimuru.
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They were acquaintance with a past that were buried along their faults. Vague memories to nothing to be told, no essence to bring back since it didn't leave any traces. It's just them, two hearts, lonely beats, dancing as they let the melody slowly fades on the background they once treasured.
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"You played me well, Diablo." Under a deciduous trees, gradually falling it's dead leaves, can it still be called beautiful? Swinging in any direction, as if it dances with the lead of zephyr. Casually meeting the surface anticipating maybe Diablo will catch a few, a leaf that he can kept yet he left.
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Rimuru danced alone, on the
night they both promise they'll be one.
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"You can fool me but not my country, Diablo." Rimuru answered, eschewing the thought he just had. "You know what's worst than a broken promise? It's the trust being gone. Please, leave and this time never come back." Rimuru pleaded. He knew he was one of Diablo's choices among the line up of those who wished to pair with him and unfortunately Rimuru isn't chosen yet is reconsidered by now, obnoxious.
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"Seize your words. Your country needs me, Rimuru." Diablo's behest. Rimuru drew a wry smile on his face, look straight to the raven and gave a mocking chuckle. Diablo who frowned his eyebrows, and his eyes darkened. It's undeniable that Diablo has commendable red eyes. Flaming hot, tears and blood. To what extend his vision?
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"Fine. Let's dance through the blades of our swords."
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