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There was a time where the sun would set on a ruined castle and rise again on a bloodied desert. There was a time when the battles would rage through the gruesome days and shivering nights. There was a time where deals were forged, and goods were argued over. Where sugarcane and cows would make you richer than the gods. A time where an enchantment table was built, where a plan was made. A time where a king finally found someone to carry out his commands.
Now those commands will forever hang unsaid in the air. Now those steadfast smiles, all too eager to please the other, will never brandish a bloody grin. Those
gentle
,
fearful
, crazed eyes will never look into another’s with false hope. That blade will never again be held by trembling hands, never cleave the flesh from bone.
The winter had come, and it arrived too harshly. It ripped through the forest, through the lakes, through the plains, and through the desert. It burned with a red frost, and it consumed with a terrifying hunger.
What was left in its wake was stunning.
What was life was alive.
The silence that sifted through the broken walls of dogwarts warmed the few animals that still rested there. It was blissful in the now empty server. There was no need for violence now that those who craved it finally found peace. Maybe somewhere in the sand there still lay two men, their breathing shallow and the blood feeding the critters of the desert. But for now, here in the clearing of broken walls, it is calm. It is a calm that has never before tasted so sweet. The ghosts who demanded blood now float about idly without purpose. Their red hunger had finally been filled and now there was nothing more for them. No lives to chase after, nor alliances to be honored. There was no need for castles, no need for betrayal.
No now there were only hallowed rooms.
The grass grows a little greener.
The soft warbled hum from the enchantment table still echoes off the books that surround it. The sheep and cows, now free from their fences, lay side by side to stay warm. The bittersweet song that swings through the trees and dances across the brick comes to rest on ears that will never hear its sweet melody. There is a small rabbit that dashes between the bodies, that leaps over the tattered cape and sniffs at the now rusted crown. There are weapons left glittering in the sun and moonshine alike. These blades and arrow tips never to rip the soul from the body again.
Time passes differently there again. It slows, the world still moves but nothing needs to age anymore. The bodies will decay, the flowers will grow, and the sun and moon will still dance in the sky above.
Somewhere beyond the border lies a small cabin. Somewhere beyond the battle rests a beautiful garden. Somewhere beyond time, a king and his hand finally made it to spring.