"I wonder what comes after death. Hopefully it'll be something nice, or if not pleasant at least calm. Thomas, my dear friend, what do you think?"
With her azure eyes upturned she looks behind her, a cold wind grazing her pale white face and flowing through her shoulder length silver hair. Accompanying her in the manor gazebo an old man stands next to her. With eyes closed he thinks. Waiting calmly she rests her head against her hands. With a heavy sigh he looks away.
"There's no need to think about such things. I won't let you die young lady."
With a small smile she stands up, walking to the nearest flower patch. "That's right, I'm supposed to be young." After plucking a white iris she spins around, her thick wool dress and matching overcoat fluttering in the growing winter winds. Thomas, still in the gazebo, leans on the guardrail. Despite his black and white butlers attire and gray puffy frock coat he still feels cold. Suddenly, silence overtakes the moment, only interrupted by the snow's starting fall.
The pair look to the sky, noticing a red hue start to rise and overtake the horizon. "Thomas, I dreamed of this day. I wonder if those nightmares will come true as well? Perhaps I can make it so we can have a good ending to the story of our lives." Raising his brow Thomas looks to the four brick walls encasing the garden. One entrance and one exit, only two doors clearly visible.
It should be rather easy to escape and get our happy ending. The young lady has become odd as of late but she's still my lady. I wonder where we should go after escaping? As far as I know the Abbey Republic would be the best option. Then again, it's full of perverts and some especially nasty vagrants.
"Thomas, please focus."
Instantly she appears in front of him. Carelessly she balances on the gazebo railing. With a sigh Thomas grabs her by the hips and sits her down. With her black eyes upturned she scoffs at him. Without a care she crosses her arms and leans back, voices full of rage accompanying the sounds of breaking wood and glass growing closer.
"Off With Her Head!"
"A New Head Over The Old!"
"The Stars Will Fall!"
Hearing the people's rage filled screams the young lady starts to shake. Fear maybe? Or is it excitement. Thomas, ignoring his master, walks to the back end of the garden. Again, magically she appears in front of him as if she was always there. Sighing Thomas gently pats her head. "Ma'am if you could please walk normally. Who knows how the people will react if you appear and disappear as you please." In response she puts on a careless smile. "The head of a witch or the head of a traitor. Either way a head will fall will it not? All that matters is you live Thomas." Silence overtakes the area, broken shortly after by the violent crashing of flying wood against the ground. A cloud of dust explodes upwards, the roars clearer yet still distant.
Clank Clank Clank
A knight walks in. He looks to be in his early twenties, his youthful azure gemlike eyes almost covered by his shoulder length blond hair. With every step his heavy jagged armor clanks, the unconcealed greatsword on his back swinging heavily. Looking at the pair he pulls the sword and holds it forward. Large, big enough to cleave even a lion in half. Even so, it radiates a holy aura, the white blade contrasting the lightly decorated two-handed golden handle. Silently he walks to the pair, ignoring Thomas and instead Glaring at the young lady. In response, she lets out a bright smile.
Suddenly, a tyrannical aura floods out from her. As if a titan of old has descended, a great fear floods Thomas and the knight. "To be denied escape by my own servant and charged by a false knight. Tell me why do you peasants hate me so? Then again, you are naught but a servant to greed. Perhaps it was my fate to be dragged by those below me." Not noticing Thomas's pained expression the knight glares at her. "I am Harold, not a server of greed but he who follows a greater nobility." With heavy steps he struggles to walk forward, barely dragging his greatsword at his side as he grows closer, an equally fierce aura gushing forward with every step of his.
Within moments he stands in front of her, greatsword raised. Thomas, overwhelmed, can only watch on in silence as his thoughts are crushed by the sight of Harold's greatsword falling. In that split second, she turns around and smiles at Thomas.
A blood flower blooms as the stars fall.
Her head flies, the sword violently crashing into the ground, sending her body flying off to the side. At least, it was supposed to go flying. Suddenly, everything goes still. The snow stops in the air as the blood starts to collect and gather in the air. Before the two can even say anything reality itself violently cracks. The sky darkens and the clouds vanish, the shining of the stars resembling eyes. Walls break and snow melts, the horizon seemingly shrinking and melting as all of existence collects into one point. Within moments all that exist is her body and a small garden, the ground beyond twenty steps gone, replaced by space.
The stars open.
Within moments innumerable eyes surround the pair. A voice ageless fills the area as reality starts to shift again. Her head has reattached, her body now floating in the center of the distortion as primordial colors flow from her waving hair.
"The anchor…the last has been broken."
Her skin starts to split open, her body separating itself like a doll being torn apart to reveal…nothing. An ancient emptiness. No, there's something inside. Is it sleeping? No, it's slowly waking up. Just as the eyes within what used to be the young lady begin to open, the countless eyes that used to be the stars start to break apart and flood into the void. "It"...whatever it is inside of that original nothingness starts to calm and sleep. Reality starts to return, the garden flows rising as the sky returns and the ground fades into existence.
A short moment, gone as if it never happened. Yet her body is still there, a dark crack reaching beyond the stars deep into the stars has formed where her head used to be. As the two start to regain their thoughts that same ethereal voice appears one more time. Male? Female? Human? Animal? No…"It's" everything and nothing. "It" chooses to be understood right now.
"Return the anchor…gather the points. It cannot wake. It needs her. You…you will not sleep until she wakes. Until the anchor is returned, death is but a lie."
Crack
Her body suddenly splits into pieces. Her limbs, bones, and head fly into the crack, meanwhile her heart, brain, eyes, and stomach fly into the sky and spread randomly across the horizon. Her skin, nails, hair, and remaining organs melt into the crack. Before it can be sealed something shoots through. Shortly after everything returns as it was before. The same roaring screams, the same cold winds, the same falling snow.
Almost as if it was all a dream.