[Fanfic][Drakengard][Eris] two roads diverged in a yellow wood~
Title: two roads diverged in a yellow wood~
Series: Drakengard (2)
Characters/Pairings: Eris, the people of the Districts
Rating: PG / K+
Timeline: Postgame (E3)
Summary: She stands before them, silent as the grave, grave as the dead, as dead as the bodies piled high in the embers of Once and Back Then.
Notes: Title taken from Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken"
She stands before them, silent as the grave, grave as the dead, as dead as the bodies piled high in the embers of Once and Back Then.
And they bow to her, faithful servants to their master that they are, and do not ask. Each, in turn, offers obeisance and praise and well wishes, and murmured prayers to the skies that will echo into the lonely silence of absolute freedom.
She alone is their Goddess now: the only one still faithful to Their creed, the only one who has not moved on, moved away, moved the memories out of her mind. As no one else steps forward, she is free to make the world her plaything, and those who are faithful are the jewels amongst the rubble, as scattered as the stars through the Heavens. She gathers them and protects them and plays with them and they bend to her will as willows before the gale. She will not allow them to be anything but the swaying branches and emerald kissed dewdrops of life, and will not let them stray from the path They had carved out with blood and broken bones and broken wills and broken hearts.
The weapon she wields is too long to be a sword, too sharp to be a staff or scepter, too thin to be an axe, too heavy to be a spear or javelin. All move out of her path, kiss her robes and yield--always yield--to the steel that is only a fragment of her strength. The sword-staff-scepter-spear-axe-javelin points the way, and as drones to the queen they follow.
There is no title she has claimed for herself, nothing she anoints herself with; yet experience and strength and determination rest as a mantle on her shoulders, and those who have felt her power are only too willing to call her by the name she had avoided truly bearing by barely a hair's bredth.
Series: Drakengard (2)
Characters/Pairings: Eris, the people of the Districts
Rating: PG / K+
Timeline: Postgame (E3)
Summary: She stands before them, silent as the grave, grave as the dead, as dead as the bodies piled high in the embers of Once and Back Then.
Notes: Title taken from Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken"
She stands before them, silent as the grave, grave as the dead, as dead as the bodies piled high in the embers of Once and Back Then.
And they bow to her, faithful servants to their master that they are, and do not ask. Each, in turn, offers obeisance and praise and well wishes, and murmured prayers to the skies that will echo into the lonely silence of absolute freedom.
She alone is their Goddess now: the only one still faithful to Their creed, the only one who has not moved on, moved away, moved the memories out of her mind. As no one else steps forward, she is free to make the world her plaything, and those who are faithful are the jewels amongst the rubble, as scattered as the stars through the Heavens. She gathers them and protects them and plays with them and they bend to her will as willows before the gale. She will not allow them to be anything but the swaying branches and emerald kissed dewdrops of life, and will not let them stray from the path They had carved out with blood and broken bones and broken wills and broken hearts.
The weapon she wields is too long to be a sword, too sharp to be a staff or scepter, too thin to be an axe, too heavy to be a spear or javelin. All move out of her path, kiss her robes and yield--always yield--to the steel that is only a fragment of her strength. The sword-staff-scepter-spear-axe-javelin points the way, and as drones to the queen they follow.
There is no title she has claimed for herself, nothing she anoints herself with; yet experience and strength and determination rest as a mantle on her shoulders, and those who have felt her power are only too willing to call her by the name she had avoided truly bearing by barely a hair's bredth.