(Season 1 of the Ace of Darkness series)
"You were never meant to be a curse. A warrior. Like you are. Not darkness. A heart."
A heart is more than just power.
Margaret Raesaryen is a mysterious warrior in the kingdom of Karthass - one that establis...
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I visited a place where there were mostly statues. It's all I saw until I looked further. Confusion tips over my eyes when I see the amount of roses over there, too, made by someone. I think that they're artificial, or natural, but they're not, not at all. They reminded me of a thousand things I've done, and even the amount of times I've been learning to communicate.
I've always wanted a rose so badly. Ever since I was fourteen. I've never wanted to lose one, but I hadn't. The room looked so similar to the one the guards took ownership of—perhaps only because they thought it was more suitable for them. No rugs or cotton leathers anywhere. No mirrors or tulips or any rich stuff left over. I'm quickly struck by what I saw. Not because of that flower I was seeing, which was blue and green with splashes of blue I dreamed of since dark blue was my favourite colour, but there was no one there.
Except for Aaron.
His eyes looked at everything that was in the room except the jokers. He didn't like them. He didn't like anything about the jokers except their so-called joyful manner, in which they hid their true emotions, and he set his index finger on his lip, then left. He was wearing a black leather jacket that was similar to the King Joker's, and he liked cards—diamond ones.
"It's not the same as the Joker." he mouthed. He watched another joker grab onto a statue but he held a pistol, looking for someone he thought was an intruder. He stared at the grounds for a few seconds, and then at the joker. The Joker looked at him, glaring, and made a pose that looked like he was a soldier holding a weapon to fight. The Joker's chest tightened as he watched Ericson tilt his head over, frowning and he cursed the day he decided to take a look at the Joker cards. I could already feel that I can take any damned control. And that could happen soon, and shortly. I've been trying to cease creating amputations but that isn't the only thing I've done. It's impossible. Not easy, effortless or uncomplicated. I can already see the pistol the Joker held as he stood still, and his face already felt anger as if he saw someone ruining his favourite painting.
What was he trying to say? The thought of a joker. As the words were muffled, I heard a lot.
"This is stupid," I said.
He heard someone saying something, and the door was just ajar to the walls. Clarity swarmed around me as I took my eyes on him, but he didn't watch as he was gone. That joker was angry, so angry and furious like he had never before. The joker's chest tightened as he saw a single tear run down his face. He looked at the sword again and dropped it down.
"It's fine," Aaron said, smiling. "You can also call me Asher."
"I never knew you dressed so nicely like that," I said to him.
"Thanks for your reply." He said to me. He took his hand off his leather jacket. "I'm very open to outfits, you know?"
"Really. That's great." I said to him. "Would you mind if I continue talking?"
