My life has never been mine.
Due to misfortune or fate or the bloodstained hands of my family before me, it has never been mine.
Nor will it ever be.
What a shame, I think, as I stare up at the dying cosmos. The stars bleeding across the sky, pouring their essence across galaxies before collapsing once more into the elements that made them.
This is what my life has been dedicated to. The life of dying stars. The life of those around me. The life of those who deserve to end.
I'm not sure if it's a life worth living, but as long as those stars burn, I'll be here watching and waiting.
Searching for a glimpse of the woman who made me this way.
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YOU ARE READING
The Constellation Keeper
FantasíaLotte wishes for death like one wishes for candy. After centuries of existence, and the deaths of millions at her hands, she's not sure what's left to serving the "greater good." If there ever was one to begin with. Amongst the few things that have...
