Chapter Twenty One - Final Goodbye?

~1002 words

A paper crown rested atop a nest of short pale-blonde hair.

A heart made of glass mauled meekly inside his scarred chest... every beat excruciatingly exasperating and debilitating. Each beat... exacerbating the already cracked heart.

A lavish... yet a tattered gown.

Eyes of envy and past regrets bore holes inside his skull.

"Monster."

"You killed Cecelia... how could you?"

"Why Grey... why?"

"They won't let Nico live."

"I am sorry."

Voices of remorse, anguish, self deprecation. His feet felt wobbly.

Stumbling, he took support of the walls. Charred walls, portraits on walls screaming, mocking him for failing—every time.

Reaching out, he sat on his throne.

A throne that was the sole thing left in his kingdom of flames and ashes.

It was the sight of a king. A king who had it all but nothing at the same time. A king who's castle had fallen into the deep abyss of a sea of madness and chaos and revenge.

He walks alone through the falling structures, dying vegetation, scorching skeletons of the people who he was supposed to protect. He looks down... at his feet, at his hands—battered and bruised. Colloused and scarred. The scars on his hands would remain, and so will the ones on his heart at the brink of shattering.

But he holds his ground. Placing a hand on the hilt of his sword he plunges it into the ground as he looks in front of him. Hordes of... his inner demons with their fangs bared look at him. Deformed, disfigured, ugly mess—something that symbolises his perception of himself.

He lets them come. The bitter feeling at the back of his throat is still there, but he didn't swallow it this time. He let his demons gaff him. Scad his skin, tear it apart.

'I deserve it', he says with a smile. A smile so genuine he himself was surprised. He loved no one... maybe once he did but he was never loved back. The king—built his walls too high.

All he ever wanted, all he ever found. All he is and ever was—-is compromised.

His self-loathing as his demons tore his skin apart came to a halt as some memories flashed in his mind.

Nico's laughter as they stole money in alleys. Cecelia's smile as she hung around with Nico.

His memories warped and churned as he saw other memories. A majestic figure. Pure white hair draped down on her shoulders like an undulating waterfall and a pair of lavender eyes peered into his very soul. A young woman walked towards him.

Covered in white robes she looked as fragile as a dandelion—flying gracefully. The environment seemed unbefitting of her beauty. Her lips quirked up in a smile. Bending, she cupped his face into her palms. Bringing his face near her own she placed a small kiss on his forehead, "Let go, Grey," the melodic hum of her voice brought him out of his self-hate.

He remembered it all.

Seris—her pearl hair sprawled over her face as she slept peacefully after exhausting herself with multiple works.

Caera—her ruby eyes stealing glances from the corner of her eyes, a small blush that extended ear to ear.

Cylrit—his elder brother-like figure. His hand extended, aiding in standing back up.

"Look at all this, Grey. You've made so many good memories. You've made it," Her voice sent a shiver down his spine.

Before he knew it, he was back. The same small body, white hair, lavender eyes.

He wasn't King Grey anymore.

"S-Sylvia?" He asked, hesitatingly, scared...terrified, all of this was a lie.

Sylvia's arms wrapped around his wide frame. Despite being so well built, his shoulders felt frail. Like a little baby.

Choked tears tore through his throat. Tears of grief and dejection followed by a heartache made him break down in her arms. Like a drowning person, he held on to Sylvia's form like his last straw.

"Please... don't leave me again," He pleaded, begged. His grip over her robes tightened, his nails digging into her skin, "I won't let you go. Not again... I-I..."

"It's ok child. I was never gone. I live within you", she spoke and jerked his shoulders, "here... and here," she said pointing at his mana core and then his heart. "People never die as long as there is someone to remember them. I will never leave your side... so hold on to what's left of me," she said as her thin frame started disappearing.

"No...no... please, don't leave me. I don't h-have anyone else," Grey pleaded, refusing to let go as more and more motes from her body withered away.

"You have. You have a group of people you can call family. A group who would never judge you. A group that loves you... and you love them back."

"I don't," Grey muttered as he coughed up crimson red blood.

"You do. Deep in your heart... I've seen it. Felt it. You care for them. And you love her," Sylvia spoke as her arm went ethereal.

"I-I don't," Grey said, refusing to believe that he's capable or deserving of such a thing.

"You do, my child. With time, you'll notice. Accept yourself and your reality. I will always be by your side. So will my daughter." Sylvia's voice sounded distant as what remained of her withered away in the feeble wind, the echo was the only evidence of her presence.

"Take care, grandson," A last, hushed whisper spoke in Grey's ear as suddenly the world warped around him.

Panting he sat up, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. "Well well, you certainly do sleep a lot," a man with black hair and antler-like hair spoke as he sat right beside Grey's bed. Extending his hand he spoke, "Hello Grey. I'm Agrona. Sylvia's husband."

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A/n Short chapter, I know. But I wanted to develop things a bit... mainly Grey and Sylvia moments. Anyhow, hope you liked the chapter.