Chapter Text
Whisper of ancients winds, witness this feud between fated enemies.
A battle of wits and blades.
War was their domain, and death was his.
The arachnid struck the heart of heretic. Crimson emerging from the carved gash.
A failed prophecy. One that brought such hope to the land for the last a thousand years, dashed in an instance.
There was no kin left to weep such a loss.
An empty vessel lay upon the floor of the such a temple. The last Lamb, slain by the victor.
Yet, the victor could not bring upon themselves for a celebration.
The moon could only weep, as the endless future spread out before them. Death would never embrace them in his arms.
The rest of the Pantheon gathered. Looks of somber gratitude, for their enemies perishing.
Closing their eyes in a brief mournful moment.
Dew coating the webs, within the rafters.
❖
A sigh from the goddess.
"There is no more, no more that can be used against us."
An embrace was offered to her elder.
They let out the weeping, upon her robe.
"We will not face a freedom unless all chains are cast aside. We all share in our bindings, let us not lie."
A whisper, followed by a silence.
The crown of one loved dearly, lay unceremoniously on the cobble.
Ripped from the body of a mere vessel, the last who could end the old faith.
Once a heroic soul, now nothing more than a carcass.
Though he feared it the most, the Bishop of pestilence, was the first to retrieve the relic.
He held it firm within his hands, it emitted such a bitter cold.
The eye closed, weeping ichor.
❖
The one waiting below, a cry of agony wished to emerge from his throat. Though such a sound, was just as trapped as him.
A millennium had passed, one where he foolishly prayed for such a freedom.
It was clear now that such a thing, was never to occur...
His disciples, his gifts, looked upon him with mysterious gazes.
Boys raised by his side in this void.
The fifth bishop, did not dare to gaze into their minds in this moment.
He sunk into himself, embracing the endless void that was his prison.
A white that would stretch for eternity.
The one who was lost...
Though...
As his eyes were about to close for good.
Four familiar silhouettes, could just be made out in the distance...