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At first, when you met all those days ago in the mines - you grew to feel something called love. This love isn’t as simple as you would have thought - as it is divided into 6 love styles based on how you feel it and to whom. Then, the style of love you felt was nothing other than Philia, the love of friendship. So cute and harmless, nice and warm. The feeling of having a close trusted friend was great, wasn’t it? But as the seed was sown into the land great; well it was only natural for it to blossom into something bigger. Was it playful? Yes, at first Ludus was guiding you into unfunny jokes, teasing and making the other angry at the smallest details. But the flower grew alone, even having friends didn’t stop it from growing far away, thus having to be responsible for themself and them only.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
Known for its neutrality and tranquillity - you were chosen to mediate between the grandest trees’ talk. There he was too, he, who was the reason the flower blossomed. As you took that responsibility by his encouraging, soft voice, and this cunning, hoping smile - you grew into the state of Agape, trusting his kind words. Then it all went down. The meeting - you know, he blew up the scene - sincerity in his eyes, he was so caring… He’d burn the world for the peace and safety of his people; you too thought you were one of ‘his people’, didn’t you?But whatever you thought back then, does it matter? You were framed like the most precious portrait in a castle of ‘saviours’ - those who promised peace with blood. You had to run before your love, which in the meantime became Eros.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
Dear gods of bleeding hearts, you should’ve helped this poor boy with his dying love! But no! Of course, you let him drown in his feelings. Be ashamed of letting him end up like this, having to run from the only real love he has endured. Having to feel love towards the one who betrayed you… Gods - aren’t you just filthy monsters laughing at our cruel fate? Yet you prurient maggots who jest from the skies - aren’t you just envious of one thing humanity has and you do not? Love. This feeling, desired and hated - you can’t feel it so you snicker while others cry from pain it gives…
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
When on an edge, in reality and not, you come to a conclusion «Love is a brute». You come to hate it so much, much, much - it becomes a furnace of hatred towards the one you felt Eros to. As you walk away from the cliff, you slowly come to an obsession over his death, the words «If I have to die, I’m gonna make sure he does too.» repeating in a malicious cycle. Once love became burning hatred and obsession - but what was once love can change form but in the end, somewhere deep in your heart, always will be love. Mania; that’s how I’d call your feelings at that moment - when you, full of rage, decided to take a step towards his demise, and by that yours too. You fled to the people you thought would help. The Emperor agreed, so did the Dictator - soon to be dead. The punishment came not for those who were supposed to be judged, but for those who held your hand when you were blinded by freight and paranoia, for the one that you accepted the trust of at first - to doubt it - and then come back. Just at the time to see their demise. But you held your heart tight, not letting yourself mourn a person who became your friend. Instead you put that sadness over their death as a fuel to your hatred’s furnace - and so you deemed even more to kill the one you knew was guilty. He who hasn’t left your thoughts. Then a fleeting moment of peace came - that you were told to be innocent. No time to feel gratitude to those who let your name be cleansed from the murders’ script. You must’ve started to prepare for the war up coming. As those who now saw your virtue decided to stand by your side to free the world from evil.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
Come, come with me and them. Whole nations arise against one - on its throne sits a Queen; face covered in sorrow and rage. The blaze of lava’s endless radiance illuminates their royal face. As much as she hates to do this - she has already agreed to fight for their sacred land with her life, and her peoples’. As much as she hates to do this, she had agreed to save her brother - even for a fleeting moment, for a price of course. All they asked for is to give her people a chance to survive. Slim and fading - but a chance. Now she was waiting till the war actually began - till the people started to climb on the volcano’s walls, now covered with lava. Then soldiers would be welcomed with endless traps going from the bridge all the way into the Ashen Bastion. It’s the end of the great feeling of Storge, as she knows she’ll die today, preferably - in her sacred volcano’s warm embrace.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
The war has begun. You now are starting to feel the adrenaline of risk, rushing up your wrists. As you go through the burning lava, you come closer to the one you love, hate so much you come to feel Mania. You got up the wall just to see him fall. It was almost soothing, almost. Seeing him fall into the lava… Was it good or bad? For your heart it was both. You almost screamed, but you kept it to yourself. … Before you turned around you saw him crawl out and run somewhere… «You won’t hide.» Then you made your move - ‹come to the colo›, ‹no more running› - ‹ill be there›… Then you and the others went to the colosseum, for the final duel that was supposed to fill in the emptiness in your heart.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
“You actually showed up.”
“Can’t say no to a friend, can I?”
“Eh? Friend? Flux, look at all this. All these people are dying right now because of you.”
“Believe what you want, Saps, but none of this would happen if you had died like you were supposed to.”
“No, Flux. This is your fault, not mine.”
…
“I am sorry that it had to be this way”
…
The battle was fierce, anxiety in the air… But, in the end - there was only one winner.
▸Fluixon was slain by saparata
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
But love doesn’t just die like this. You even made him a grave, even though he wasn’t worth it… Or so you made yourself think. You met agony. You were told you won but you lost. Even your reason or will to live. For I shall be sorry for everything that happened to you.
To saparata, from your Philautia.