The Knights of Aragon

Epilogue

It wasn't that long ago that war was a necessity for survival. It was handled with grace and dignity. There were rules and mercies. Now it's just bloodshed for bloodshed's sake. Nothing is ever won. Nothing is ever over.

Innocents are the casualties of those wars, or so they say. As she stood as the girl who would die a thousand deaths, she had never fully understood the burden of war. She had faced giants, monsters, and corrupt knights, but she had never thought the villain she would have to eventually face would be herself.

The girl stands in front of a full body mirror, in the darkest corner of her chambers in a the still quiet of the night. The storm brewing inside her does not even remotely show on the outside. She is fully draped in black and dark green as a uniform of the grief and anger that has stolen every inch of humanity that she has left. Her fitted black dress with dark green broidery hid the animal that had replaced her. And the black veil covered her most identifiable feature: her red hair. And her eyes, gods, her eyes. They're lined with black kohl making her green eyes darker than they truly are. And dull. Incredibly dull and unforgivable to the world. She is unrecognizable. Her breathing becomes shallow the more she stands still in her darkened chamber.

Her eyes pan over nothing as something is being pieced together in her mind. She doesn't speak a word for the walls have ears and mouths. Her dark green eyes land on a full body length looking glass that was recently given to her. Fury burns in her eyes the moment she met her own eyes.

She grabbed the closest thing she could get her hands on and threw it at the mirror. The unsuspecting weapon hits it right in the middle, shattering it completely. Small shards fall onto the floor, clattering loudly in the silent room. She despises mirrors. They never seem to show her what she wants to see. Who she truly needs to see. A knock interrupts the moment, causing her to snap at the person on the other side. "What?" She shouts at the door. It opens and a pair of footsteps enters her room hesitantly. "My Priestess," the voice greets her, "the High Priestess would like to see you." Her jaw ticks involuntarily.

Her eyes remain fixated on the shattered looking glass as she says, "Tell her I'm on my way." She dismisses the messenger with a wave of her hand. Once she heard the door close shut, She stands up from her seat and peers harder at the broken shards of the mirror. Four different girls peered back. Same green eyes but different girls. Same hair, but different lengths. Same face but very different emotions. She tightly closes my eyes. This ends tonight, is what she can say to herself. Villain or hero, I will become whoever I need to become to stop the Order. I will never let them win. I will never let her win. Even if it kills me.