Eleison Undivine Me [BEING EDITED]

Episode One: the new king (edited)

Ĕ̷̢̧̬̦͐l̶̡͎̭͔̙̦̫̥͙̻̽́̉̿͑̓̚͠͠e̵̢͉̺͋̊̽̀̋͊͒̉͜i̴̙͊̈s̶̨̙̮̳͈̈̈́̐̃̂͊̽o̴̭̹̊̐̄̈́͐̽͗͜ͅṅ̶̗̟̟̟̦̪̀̎̓͜͝

────────────────────────────────

(His mantle is of the same colour as his castle, as new as the sword by his belt. White, gold and spotless. His cape falls on the tiled floor and reflects patterns of lustre as light catches on its jeweled surface and dances around on the luxury of the royal room.

The mirror he stares at bears not his image, but of a woman. A woman in a simple attire of sleeveless silk, white dress, secured by a gold waist piece around her petite belly. Her hair is a bright blonde falling in thick curls until her shoulders, a colour contrasting her dark skin. With her black eyes she examines him, beams a smile at him, but she never speaks.

"I shall be King now, mother. Soon I shall rule across the seas and the mountains that belong to you. Grant me your blessings."

Glass walls reach as high up as the ceiling, the ceiling itself more than 50 metres high. Sunbeams stream in from those glasses, falling on the tiled floor of the court, dust floating in their luminescence. Crimson thrones line the left and right, all of them empty, and above all, at the extreme back and perched on top of several pairs of bronze stairs stands the largest and fanciest thrones of them all. There used to be three, but now there is only one.

Its body is made of glass, curved and cut in so many fine angles but it never reflects light. For it carries the colour of midnight rain, soaking in all that is bright into its core. Before the throne stands he. His chin is high and his eyes darker than space.

"Crown me, Vizier."

The lady that holds his crown is no other but the lady who had come to take her father back home.

He strokes the sapphire studded chain around his neck, smiling wider. With an empty face she stretches her hands to place the crown on his head, the crown that is made of two gold vines braided and blossoming blue gemstone roses.

"Long live...the King."

Her face is alight from the reflections of her dress. A dark green snakeskin moulding around her body, a cape falling beneath her, the amorphous pieces of glass embezzled on the neck.

"True." His gaze washes over his vizier, one he has enslaved for the price of her father. Then he looks at his empty court so now they are embraced by ever-growing rose vines. The vines curl and swirl to humanoid shapes, and in their places materialize white-cloaked figures that bow to him.

"Long live your King, senators." His laugh wafts in the hot, salty air, carrying its sound across his kingdom and with the wind of the seas and the mountains.