All That I'm Left With .....
Timeline: Canonverse, post-apocalyptic Rome
How had she come to this? On her darker days, she couldn't even begin to pinpoint where her path had strayed. Somewhere between meeting Abel, all the vows and promises she'd made, to herself in the quiet of her heart, aloud to the world.....what had been a course blessed by the highest and most noble of ideals had turned into a petty and vindictive quest for vengeance.
It was folly to be here, in the ashes of what had been the holiest city on Earth, survivor even of Armageddon. The very air was toxic to the healthy. To her damaged lungs, it was the kiss of death. She didn't really care. It was hell to outlive the majority of those one had sworn to protect and defend.
By some miracle the roses she'd spent what little leisure time she'd had caring for had survived, albeit in a twisted and stunted form. She leaned down to twist some of the blood red blooms from their thorny stems. For Kaya and for Kate, at the very least.
She realized belatedly that she'd torn her fingers open on the thorns. She attempted to coax any sort of pity for herself into being. But instead she found herself watching the blood drip onto the ashes and broken stones, flicking her fingers irritably. "A kingdom never to be brought to ruin, eh?" she muttered darkly, counting her previously unshakable faith among the casualties of war.
How had she come to this? On her darker days, she couldn't even begin to pinpoint where her path had strayed. Somewhere between meeting Abel, all the vows and promises she'd made, to herself in the quiet of her heart, aloud to the world.....what had been a course blessed by the highest and most noble of ideals had turned into a petty and vindictive quest for vengeance.
It was folly to be here, in the ashes of what had been the holiest city on Earth, survivor even of Armageddon. The very air was toxic to the healthy. To her damaged lungs, it was the kiss of death. She didn't really care. It was hell to outlive the majority of those one had sworn to protect and defend.
By some miracle the roses she'd spent what little leisure time she'd had caring for had survived, albeit in a twisted and stunted form. She leaned down to twist some of the blood red blooms from their thorny stems. For Kaya and for Kate, at the very least.
She realized belatedly that she'd torn her fingers open on the thorns. She attempted to coax any sort of pity for herself into being. But instead she found herself watching the blood drip onto the ashes and broken stones, flicking her fingers irritably. "A kingdom never to be brought to ruin, eh?" she muttered darkly, counting her previously unshakable faith among the casualties of war.