A KINGDOM OF WITHER AND BLOOM

I AM THE ONLY ONE

"There's nothing left you can do." A gentle voice said.

Overhead, rolls of thunder let out their battle cries. Lightning ripped through the veil that hung low from the underbelly of heaven—one that was masked with shades of tinted gold; colored in by the infectious catastrophe that plagued the Kingdom of Briar, turning her once cream-blushed face bone-white and charring her polished teeth with fire.

Below, coils of inferno humbled the castle's spires; freeing the world from their cloud-brushing pride. Striping them bare for every soul to see as the stair-cased bones were unveiled from their sandstone muscles; revealing the secrets that the tall structures were not as strong as everyone once thought; all flash and intimation—brought down by hundreds of pulling tendons of flame. Simple things, really. Things without solid shape.

What a shame it had all become.
The ashes mocked the crumbling castle as they flurried off in the winds.

It was so strange—how earlier, the day had blended into the night. How this conjured twilight had suddenly shone in the middle of the afternoon. How without explanation, and so far off from the brightest astrologer's predictions, the sun had blushed at himself and covered behind his beloved moon.

One might have thought that this was the hand of judgement, slamming down onto the kingdom. As flames spilled from the heavens one could have wondered if the young Kingdom of Briar had been unfaithful in the eyes of The Lord—that because of her sins, her beloved was baring her naked for the world to see; unclothed by hands of flame. One might have thought, even—that this wretched place had this a long time coming; that every ounce of fire measured was deserved.

An age late.

Earlier, five minutes after mid-day, distracted citizens stared up into the halo-crowned sky. Suddenly enchanted and enamored by the rulers of the night and day, enthroned together as one. With the distraction of the eclipse, no one had noticed the arrows that had already began to crest over the kingdom like a cluster of stars. In a wave, falling swift into their world. As the kingdom admired in wonder, the throne room of heaven above—accented with starlit ornaments that had spread out like a silk ballgown of the finest diamonds and pearls, the first flaming arrow protruded into the poorest part of the city. The straw roofs and the makeshift buildings that consisted the slums ignited with shadow flame. A kind of fire that was relentless, one that didn't need air to breathe. One forged by the hands of hell, never seeming to reach for the air. Rumored to feed off of the darkness within the shadows of every corner, under, and around. Spindling darkness together fast together until they wove into kindled flame.

Until they bled and crackled kingdoms of target in bright yellows, reds, and golds. Swallowing the day in smoke; a fire of legend. A fire of rumor. A fire once thought out to be snuffed out by the long echoes of time, forgotten; pretend.

As the fire began to spread, nurtured with fury, the shouts began.

It was so strange—how such a spiteful surprise attack could bring the Kingdom of endless blue skies and ever-blooming gardens, down to rubble in mere hours. Completely unrecognizable. Beading with sweat and pooling with blood.

By now, the crumbled Kingdom was left without hope—and anyone who still clung to it was a fool. For God had seemed to turn His face away. Either too heart-broken to look, or because He was the one directing the destruction. The answer to that question—no one knew. All they could do was cry out for the mercy of their souls. Repent the best they could...

But it was already too late.

As the cries rung throughout the kingdom, everyone became one for either his or herself.