An Eminence? No, I am just a reaper (OC story)

Mourning and rebirth

Speech = ''...''
Thoughts = [... }

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Nothing made sense any-more, or perhaps, it was that she who could not made sense of the it as it was...

Iris did not know which of the two was, nor did it matter much if one tried to think about it. The end result was the same....and that was the only truth she had come about.

The first princess of Midgar stumbled slowly through her room, almost as if drunk even though nothing of the sort was happening. Her body covered by the lithe touch of her night gown, the bare, naked soles of her feet touching the cool grounds of stone and marble that were not covered with the soft and warm touch of carpets and the skins of dangerous beasts she had bested or had received as gifts. Feeling the coldness latch unto her skin like a sea of needles clawing at her flesh.

But she could not care her less...

A cold sweat was crawling at the back of her head, dampening the cloth, cooling and freezing her body in stark contrast with the fiery hearth that had taken by storm her heart and chest. The embers of said fire licking and scorching the edges of her organs. Slowly, but never stopping in their task. Pushing more and more those weak, shallow breaths out from her chest. Her crimson mane that had always mirrored the vibrant shades of a bleeding sky was now dull, left unkempt and wild with no regard whatsoever for her appearance as the streams of scarlet fell over her shoulders.

But it did not matter...

The sound of birds chirping as they flew through the air outside her windows, the soft breezes of the new day and the warm, caring touch of the sun as its beams protruded and spread out through the confines of her room. Making the surface of trophies and medals of gold and silver glint softly. The vestiges of her own exploits and lauded efforts...

They were ignored as her eyes bared down into her reflection in one of the hanging mirrors.

Reflecting the dark bags that had formed under her scarlet eyes for countless nights without proper sleep, always remembering that day. Those things she saw coming back again and again without pause or mercy..

And how could she not when each time she looked out from her very window she could see the devastation that had been brought into her home. When her eyes could peer through the distance and take notice of the burnt marks and the damage that the buildings of the city had taken through the attack...

Her body started to shiver, trembling as her fingers clasped unto the small table that laid below Leaving small cracks into the wooden frame with ease as her knuckles turned deadly white by the sheer pressure.

But she would be lying if that was all that bothered her. In truth, that was actually small matter. Buildings, like blades could be reforged, remade and no one would give much fuss about it.

But this was not about swords and buildings...

Had they..., her mind could have found some relief from the weight it now carried.

The wood started to give in, breaking down and splintering as her fingers dug deeper and deeper. Her jaw clenched tightly, teeth grinding against each other to the point to draw blood. The arterial red slowly sliding out from her lips, coating her pale chin with a streak of liquid scarlet before it fell down into the wooden frame below. One drop at a time..

She tried to breath, but even her lungs felt on fire, her body irking and shaking as she force it to give her what she wanted.

She had tried to forget it...