"WHAT'S THE USE OF ALL THIS?"
The sky weeps where he cannot. Clouds gather above the cathedral, heavy with silence.
Icarus stood alone before the grave.
The bouquet trembled in his hand, white lilies and blue prayer roses, her favorites. He knelt, pressing the flowers gently to the marble. Her name was carved there, untouched by time, yet the warmth of her had long since faded from the world.
"I'm lost," he whispered, his voice barely reaching his own ears.
"I don't know what to do anymore.
Maybe… if you were here, I'd be free."
A breeze stirred his cloak. Somewhere above, thunder cracked….distant, like a door slammed in a faraway sky.
He rose and turned toward the grand cathedral behind him. Its towering arches swallowed his frame as he stepped through the holy doors.
People scattered like frightened birds.
Clergy fell to silence. Acolytes bowed their heads. Whispers filled the halls like smoke. "The son of the High Priest…"
Icarus kept walking, eyes distant, and robes trailing silently across the polished floor.
"Why do you bow to me?" he wondered, not aloud, but into the aching quiet of his soul.
"I'm not your god.
Why is your faith so misplaced?"
He passed the sanctified halls, his pace slowing as he neared the heart of the cathedral…..the aether chamber, where music shimmered like incense.
A choir was practicing.
He slid into a wooden bench at the back. The marble walls echoed the reverent tones of young voices, rising upward like smoke to the dome's painted heavens.
"Gloria Deo, Deus abundantiae,
Domine caelorum,
Benedic oculos tuos super nos.
Lacrimas nostras exterge,
Discordiam terrenam resolve,
Et pacem in nobis instaura..."
(Glorious God, God of abundance,
Lord of the heavens,
Bless us with your all, seeing gaze.
Wipe our tears of frustration,
Resolve our earthly strife,
and build in us a harmony of peace.)
Their harmony was near perfect. But Mars felt no grace descending with the melody.
"They're singing beautifully," he thought bitterly, "but I don't see God in them.
Their hearts… they're not in Him.
What's the use of all this?"
Elsewhere, within the Midlane Palace...
The sun spilled gold over the high balcony.
Princess Felicia sat curled in a velvet chair, eyes half, closed, soaking in the last warmth of the day. Laughter echoed faintly from the ballroom below, tinkling glass, trailing gowns, spinning music. Her lips curled upward, but there was no joy in it.
"What's the use of all this?" she murmured, resting her chin on her hand.
"If you don't enjoy a single day of it?"
Inside, she slipped on a pair of pale heels and checked the mirror.
She looked radiant. But not free.
She drifted to the stairs, hoping for a glimpse of the celebration, a dance, a smile, a story of the world outside tradition and titles.
Two guards stopped her.
"Orders from the Queen. You are to remain in your chambers, Princess."
Felicia gave a quiet sigh and turned back.
"I only wanted to dance," she said softly.
"To see the twirling garments of ladies in their beloveds' arms…
The grandeur of applause after a dance well done.
Or the gaze of an admirer…"
Her voice faltered.
"To fall in love... it's all I've ever wanted."