𝙏𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙮

ch 1 When Wings Bleed

Once upon a time, in a distant, hidden land, there was a castle with walls unlike any other. It was a place of fractured stone, built high upon a hill. The walls were tall and sturdy, yet marred by endless cracks and scars, a constant reminder of battles fought and storms weathered. It was known as the Castle of Broken Walls.

Inside, lived a solitary queen. She had labored to mend those walls countless times, patching each wound with her own hands. But no matter how much care she took, the cracks always reappeared, as if the stones themselves refused to hold. She built the walls higher and higher, until they towered so far above that no passerby could ever hope to scale them. Many travelers would walk past the castle, curious yet unwilling to attempt the climb, leaving the queen to her lonesome vigil, year after year.

No prince came to rescue her, nor did any king call her to his side. She was always alone, a figure glimpsed only through the highest window, looking down at the world with eyes as hollow as her echoing halls.

One day, an unexpected gift arrived at the castle-a delicate trinket, left on her windowsill by a hand unknown. She held it close, studying its fragile beauty, and for the first time in her life, a small, tremulous smile touched her lips. Inspired by this strange treasure, the queen began to sing a sorrowful melody as she gazed from her high tower window, her voice carrying through the empty rooms of her castle.

She sang:

> "Lonely, lonely, oh, lonely bird,
Where do you fly, where do you soar?
When all that you've known has faded away,
What do you live for, if not for the day?
Tell me, lonely bird, where do you go,
When the winds in your wings can't lift you below?
Why do you soar when the world's grown so cold?
And why did you clip your own wings of gold?"

As the song drifted on the breeze, the queen found herself, for the first time, feeling the faint glimmer of joy. She danced to the music her heart had long forgotten, each step lighter than the last, her laughter echoing like a song long buried. She felt alive, as if the gift had opened a door to a part of herself she had never known.

But, like all fragile things, the gift didn't last. One day, as she held it close, it slipped from her grasp and shattered upon the stone floor. Her joy faded with it, the pieces too small and delicate to mend. Desperate, she tried to put it back together, her fingers bloodied as she pressed the sharp fragments together, but the more she tried, the more it crumbled in her hands.

As the broken pieces scattered, the queen felt her heart breaking in ways she could no longer ignore. She sank to her knees by the window, and with trembling hands, she sang her final song, her voice like a wisp of smoke against the dim sky:

> "Oh lonely, lonely, my lonely bird,
No longer you fly, no longer you sing.
What need have you of wings to soar,
When the skies above close forevermore?
Cut them deep, these wings of pain,
Let me drift where no sorrow remains.
For what use is flight when the world has grown cold,
And what use is life when all joy is sold?"

Tears spilled down her cheeks, silent as the walls around her. She gazed at the sky one last time, her heart hollowed by sorrow and solitude. Alone in her castle of broken walls, she surrendered to the emptiness within her, her spirit drifting like a lone bird with wings clipped by despair.

In the end, the queen's song faded, a final whisper carried away by the wind. And there, in that castle where no one could enter, no one to see or mourn, the only trace of her sorrow and solitude remained-the faintest smears of blood, staining the stone floor like a signature of a life unknown. Her song and her spirit were gone, but those blood-red traces were all that lingered, quiet as the ruins around her. The lonely bird could fly no more, and the castle of broken walls stood silent, a monument to a queen who had once loved, once longed, and finally lost.