The Earth Without Art is Just "eh"

A cool breeze blows greenish gold hair out of the man's drunken hazel eyes and wakes him up with a start. The effects of the hangover pounds his temples and makes him slip as he tried to stand up. Sprawled on the floor the memories of the last few days flood into his mind and force the tears out again.

He digs into his suit chest pocket to pull out a neatly folded note with his name on it. On the inside are the neatly written worlds he always wanted to hear in their most solemn form, a suicide note. His ex-fiance and fist loves family had always been trying to split them apart since the mysterious death of his father and he was constantly scorned for never awakening his hart.

Eventually she agreed to break the wedding for the greater good of her family as his noble house had long since fallen. Although he tried throught the years and fought for her increasing the power of both his soul and physical form he never awaked his hart and could only go but so far. She wrote him of the times they secretly communicated and how happy she was that he never gave up on her, she told him of the times he spent struggling on the stairway battlefield encouraged her to rank higher in the academy to take control of her own future.

Truly a tale of young love, sadly she couldn't get far from the clutches of the noble families and he used as a pawn to progress their prestige on the stairway. He clutched his head in madness and his usually calm face twisted in regret, if only he had a hart then he could have enrolled in the academy, his regret changed to hatred as his hatred was pointed to himself, her family and most of all his father for leaving him so clueless and heartbroken. He still remembered as his father made him watch as he stood in front of him and plunged the dagger in his chest, his last words being "You will feel in your heart when it is time to do the same."

Directly afterward mysterious runes lit up within the room as his father turned to dust and dissapearred from the world, this being the same room he went to whenever he felt down and the same he was in right now. After her suicide he didn't know what to do anymore. He looked up towards the alter in the center of the room and at that familiar knife that never moved, and yet something inside of him stirred with great ferocity. His mind still clouded with alcohol he embraced this burning feeling rather than ignore it as usual. He stared almost hypnotized by this feeling as he pushed himself against the wall to get up. He walked unsteadily to the knife as if possessed only to awaken from his stupor with it deep in his chest. The runes again lit up so reminiscent to all those years ago as he looked down at his hands and again at the knife. With his mind clear he sighed as a single tear fell from his eye and he turned to dust.

Unbeknownst to him the calamity of the world. The flooding seas, the raging winds, and the erupting volcanoes enraged and mourning at his death and the end of his bloodline. The Planet withired and the energy dispersed as worldwide panic blossomed. the world heart completely shattered and it was truly an earth without Art.