ᴡᴍᴍᴀᴘ: ℌ𝔢𝔯 𝔊𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔫 ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰

Alternate ending: II

It was once said that there was a golden-haired girl that comes to Obelia every few years. A deity that brings words of prophecy upon her lips. Words that should never be undermined.

She never grows up, she never ages, for she is eternal in her name.

But no one knew her name, all they knew was that she had golden hair like the sun's rays and eyes that glittered under the moon's light.

She looks at him with the same Obelian eyes he seen reflected in the mirror just this very morning, the eyes he was so proud of, the eyes that let all knew that they were lesser than he was because he was true of blood.

She holds her arm as if it were not her own, looking at the reddened skin almost as if it were something she was unused to, and soon she speaks, and it's with a pure, sweet voice that even he, surrounded by beauty every day in the Imperial palaces, could adore.

"It seems...your highness will not be the one to take the throne."

He's chilled at her tone, fury overtaking the sudden shock at her voice, and his mana spirals out of him like a foul wind of a storm. 

"Who do you think you are to say something like that to me? I'm the crown prince of the Obelian Empire, and you must be nothing but a bastard wench!"

His younger sister trembles off to the side as she's pushed to the ground by his uncontrolled mana, and the three stare at each other, all golden-haired with the Obelian gem eyes, and the eldest speaks once more, this time looking calmly at the sight as if it were just a normal morning, with no winds cutting at their cheeks.

"Your highness." She gazes gently at the fallen child on the ground, her hair that was once straight, now bunched up in wild curls from the wind as tears glimmer from her eyes. 

"Your highness shall take the throne." 

Then the young girl who was much older than they, disappears in a smattering of golden sparks, and the young crown prince shakes in place before turning on his younger sister.

His eyes are narrowed, and he's seething, his fists clenched as he shouts, "You didn't hear anything! Right, Eirene!?" 

Her pale face woodenly shakes from side to side, and she sits there on the ground as her brother makes his way back to the palace, and her hands finally start to move, her fingers digging into the grass, pulling it up by its roots.

Her kind brother...her brother who gave her sweets and read her stories, had looked as if the devil had possessed his form. 

Was it because that older, pretty sister had told him he would not take the crown when it came time? 

But that couldn't be true. He with the name, "immortal" was the heir, and that wouldn't change. It wasn't as if she wanted to be Empress regnant like their mother. 

She didn't.

But as the years passed, she shows signs of prodigal archery, and next to her brother who had trained for years compared to her one day, he throws down her bow and snaps it in two. 

"Get lost!" He doesn't even say her name anymore.

She goes crying to their mother, who with her soft brunette hair says nothing, but calms her with soothing pats on the back and lets her play with the crown. 

Come to think of it, why didn't their mother have a name that meant immortal? Wasn't she the rightful heir to the throne? 

She doesn't speak aloud but when her father comes into the room, she goes to hold his hand but lets go soon after, seeing his weary eyes as he hesitates to pat her head.

"Why is your hair...never mind." she touches her hair absentmindedly, the slight waves in her blonde somewhat odd, her mother and father both had straight hair, and she loved her father's silver tresses. 

But her brother too had her mother's brown hair and she takes to looking at the Imperial portraits to remind herself that it was not she who looked out of place at times. 

She gets up early every morning after that and she tells her maids to straighten them to their dismay. "But your highness looks so pretty, almost like a fairy!"

"I say! Almost like princess Ath-" another maid smacks her hand over the lady's mouth and she looks up at their awkward faces. 

"Who?"

"No..no one, your highness. She must have lost her mind for a second is all. Now, let's get you ready!" 

She sits on the high-backed chair and she wonders which princess's name started with "Ath-."

She asks her father soon after, and watches as his face turns to stone, and says almost too quietly for her to hear. 

"Perhaps they spoke wrong, Eirene. Maybe they meant to say prince, such as your grandfather."

She tilts her head, confused. "But wasn't grandfather's name, Claude?" Her father freezes, his hand covering his mouth and his eyes lower to the ground as if ashamed. 

"...Your other grandfather...his name was Anastasius." That was all he said and he drops her off at her room before departing to the Alpheus estate for the nth time that month alone.

She stands there, her hand wavering in the air after him, and slowly lowers it to her side. 

But wasn't that emperor's name... the name of the tyrant who had devastated the treasuries and had ruined the populace and their trust in the Obelian name? 

She searches the library for answers, the library that was covered in a fine layer of dust, and rusty hinges upon its golden doors, once majestic, now it lay forgotten.