[fanfic100] 003. Ends
Fandom: +C Sword and Cornett
Characters: Belca, Linna (kind of?)
Prompt: 3. Ends
Word Count: ...
Rating: K+
Summary: He lays there, thinking - after all, it is the anniversary of the day he reached for the stars and plummeted to the ground.
Author’s Notes: Depressing, much?
-
In a damp, dull prison cell that reeks of blood and mold, Belca (the ex-Prince) lies curled up on a mattress that could have passed for a sponge. He lays there, thinking - after all, it is the anniversary of the day he reached for the stars and plummeted to the ground. It is the day he had lost everyone, everything, himself.
He stretches his arm out to the ceiling, like he can see the stars behind the concrete and mortar. And he can almost feel them. That dream he almost achieved.
Across the hall, another prisoner notices his movements. “Prince Belca,” he gasps.
“Don’t call me that, Linna. I’m no prince anymore.” He doesn’t want to remember, and Linna’s words have just made him - wretched, wretched present. In the future, there lies nothing for him.
There’s a beat in his chest - the lowly hope that dares to peek out again. Belca squishes the emotion immediately. After all, the last time he let hope rise it was crushed before it had taken a step.
“It’s not the end,” Linna says, in that quiet, determined tone of his that keeps bothering him because there isn’t any hope, not anymore. And Linna doesn’t seem to realize that, even when all of their allies are dead and Orcelito is a puppet and the whole world has gone to ruins.
“Hope is a futile thing, Linna,” Belca replies shortly, and rolls over, his back to his friend.
There is nothing any more.
Characters: Belca, Linna (kind of?)
Prompt: 3. Ends
Word Count: ...
Rating: K+
Summary: He lays there, thinking - after all, it is the anniversary of the day he reached for the stars and plummeted to the ground.
Author’s Notes: Depressing, much?
-
In a damp, dull prison cell that reeks of blood and mold, Belca (the ex-Prince) lies curled up on a mattress that could have passed for a sponge. He lays there, thinking - after all, it is the anniversary of the day he reached for the stars and plummeted to the ground. It is the day he had lost everyone, everything, himself.
He stretches his arm out to the ceiling, like he can see the stars behind the concrete and mortar. And he can almost feel them. That dream he almost achieved.
Across the hall, another prisoner notices his movements. “Prince Belca,” he gasps.
“Don’t call me that, Linna. I’m no prince anymore.” He doesn’t want to remember, and Linna’s words have just made him - wretched, wretched present. In the future, there lies nothing for him.
There’s a beat in his chest - the lowly hope that dares to peek out again. Belca squishes the emotion immediately. After all, the last time he let hope rise it was crushed before it had taken a step.
“It’s not the end,” Linna says, in that quiet, determined tone of his that keeps bothering him because there isn’t any hope, not anymore. And Linna doesn’t seem to realize that, even when all of their allies are dead and Orcelito is a puppet and the whole world has gone to ruins.
“Hope is a futile thing, Linna,” Belca replies shortly, and rolls over, his back to his friend.
There is nothing any more.