Anima

"To be imprisoned at the moment or to meander the beaten paths of hopeless romance without substance - I'd rather learn to love than to live as a husk of a woman."

- Miyori

“My queen, it is time for your hourly conducts.”

“Mmhmm. Give me five more minutes please.”

Turning the other way on her queen-sized mattress she sighed. It wasn’t a sigh of reluctance or out of exhaustion, but rather boredom for another day she had to live.

It has been almost a millennia since she had taken rule of Pidrophillie, the greatest kingdom to be on the continent. There were many things to do at the start, but currently, everything she wanted has been done.

And yet, she felt as if there was something crucial missing. Something that was a part of her, yet also not.

The knight in shining armor kneeling beside her bed let out a small cough, grabbing her attention.

“My queen, may I also mention that today is also bodhi day.” He continued on, the queen’s brain capacity not yet at its fullest because of how early it was. “You are scheduled to meet with the other kings and queens of their own respective lands; I can assure you that it will all go without a hitch if you are to ignore that detestable king of the isle.”

She furrowed her brows at the mention of him.

The king, an absolutely disgusting cretin. A being who she had once devoted herself to many centuries ago which had caused her to ruin. The lich king, her former husband.

She shuddered at the thought of having to meet such a man once again.

“I’m not feeling well today. I’ll think about it later.” Sliding off the bed, she headed into the shower room.

Right as she finished stripping her bed robe, a large crash could be heard right outside the room. She hurriedly stepped outside, opening the door.

“Alain?”

Her personal guard was laying on the floor, headless. Looking up above, she could see a boulder-sized hole in the ceiling.

On queue, she heard two, no, three more cracks above.

Swiftly dodging the three giant rocks that came her way, she destroyed a fourth one by looking at it.

Sensing that this was a dire situation, she blasted off into the air, pulverizing any meteor that came within her vicinity. Going even higher into the air, she punched out three beams of light from her fists, destroying the magic circle above.

Soon the barrage of rocks stopped raining down from where she was. A few remaining thuds could be heard here and there as she retreated down into her abode.

A canary's cry could be heard from a distance. She ran to the window ledge and saw a familiar bluebird fly through the sky. The bird in which she used to ride on with him.

Realizing the situation, her hand gripped hard onto the stone ledge, skin turning white as the top of the ledge crumbled under her grip.

Looking at the ruination everywhere, everything she had built up was gone. Centuries of work gone in an instant, all because someone couldn't help but feel jealous at it all.

From a distance, she could see the walls riddled with holes, splatters of red and tattered clothing lay everywhere on the ground below. This was no longer the home Yet, she looked on forward, her green eyes returning to a home no longer there.

A home in which was once a small town, flourishing over the ages. As the times passed, she was eventually crowned queen of the lands, surrounded by faithful advisors of her own. It was a home that she could be a part of, a home that she was proud of.

But now, it's all gone.

If not for herself, then it would be for the people who allowed themselves to be ruled by someone like her. Then and there, she decided, she would kill the genocider in honor of her kingdom.

※

"Miranda, I understand why you've come to this place, but please, may we talk it out like adults?"

"You say that and yet your sword is already drawn?"

"Given who you are, I have no choice but to speak like this."

The queen was surrounded by the corpses of his best advisors, each and everyone unable to stop her onslaught. Though, they were successful in scathing her.

It would be an easy task for the king to finish her off, and yet he didn't. And to talk it out like adults is absurd after what he's done.

Perhaps he was just saying pleasantries because he had the prerogative to do so. To idle around and finish her off whenever and however. Such a thought didn't bode well with her being, however, as she blocked out whatever words came next.

Carnage dyed her field of view in crimson, overtaking her nerves. Her sword became light, her breathes unsteady and fast. Without hesitation, she thrust her sword into his chest, slamming him down onto the floor, with her on top. To her surprise, it had easily cut through his body, driving her hilt to his ribcage. A sputtering of blood echoed throughout the room; the lich king in his final death throes.

"Miranda..." He slowly raised his arm to her face. The queen was ready to die then and there with her former beloved, waiting for him to blast her away with his omnipotent magic.

But all that met her was a gentle caress. "You look as beautiful as the day I met you."

His eyes dulled, his arm limp as it flopped on the floor. Miranda was in disbelief. This just had to be another one of his cruel antics, his stupid, utterly illogical-

His peaceful visage, the soft curves of a rictus that she had caused to be. Her sword stood embedded within his chest. With his passing, she was consumed by a turbulent swirl of long-lost love and a morbid sense of justice. Under the gazeful watch of the moonlight, she had rued the death of a loved one.

The doors burst open and in front was a peerless beauty, almost a carbon copy of herself if not for the added height and curves.

Her anger flared up once more upon seeing that stupid face of hers, that face of which she detested. The rage at herself exploded, sending her flying across the room, causing the girl to be impaled into the wall. Sliding out her sword, the girl collapsed weakly, her breathing shallow.

Miranda got on top. Straddling her, she wrapped her slender fingers around her neck, squeezing with all her strength. Her eyes bulged, the red veins in her eyes reddening with every passing second. With Miranda's knees on her arms, all the girl could do was kick about aimlessly without a word.

She was disgusting, she can't live, she needs to die!

Wait.

Yet, with each passing second, with each dwindle of life, Miranda couldn't help but feel painful chills throughout her body, each wave hitting harder than the last. In her mind, a distinct image of a boy reappeared and disappeared. With every passing and showing, she could feel herself approaching two steps closer and one step backward from the truth of it all. 

WAIT!

She was committing a grave sin to herself and the world. She should let up her grasp now if she were to keep the girl below living. Her life was in her hands, and all she had to do was ease up on her sword. But, she was too late. Her shallow gasps for air became nil, the girl underneath no longer thrashing. Hesitantly, she unclasped her hands, her body shaking from the atrocity she had done. Down below, dull eyes wide open, a silver-haired girl lay still, her breath completely gone. Bruises remained on her neck; the queen started to feel sick in the pits of her stomach, the ego fractured like the life she has lived up to this moment.

Suddenly, everything changed around her. The yellow moonlit room was engulfed in black. She and her daughter’s skin began to peel, turning into pixels before dissipating into nothingness.

Her memories became clearer, her worst suspicions confirming an undeniable truth.

The room around them disappeared, and in its place came pitch-black darkness, their two figures barely visible under the illumination of the pale white moonlight. A shallow ocean of water sloshed underneath her shins, disappearing without end past the moonlit horizon.

Miyori cradled Takumi in her arms. Sitting on her knees, she carefully laid his head on her lap. This wasn't the reunion she asked for, and could only wonder who to pin it on. Even then, someone like Takeshi would've only been a puppet to people higher up. That's how it was, and that's how it'd always be. 

"You always go far, Ta-chan." Her voice quivered. "Too far."

She ruffled her fingers through his drenched, silver hair, leaning in to give a peck on his blued lips. This was a moment that she would never regain, a moment in which she should've died instead of him.

Her love was too great, ready to burst out of her chest, and be exposed to the outside world. Her heart was ready, her chest wanting to be bare, skinned flesh and bone until only the soul remained. She wanted to be judged, she wanted to be hated, but the boy below gave no recourse.

Sending ripples in the black waters, the sword that sat beside her was once again held in her hands - this time not out to the world, but unto herself, the slightest nick drawing a noticeable amount of blood at the center of her bosom.

Under the cold moonlight, a flicker of light off the blade caught her eye as she contemplated her last moments, recalling the life she had spent pursuing the boy with whom she was never meant to be with. Her chest ached more painful than the blade of the sword which drove deep, exiting through her convulsing back.

Her heart was already broken from his demise; she was simply cleaning up the mess. Cold, burning sensations spread throughout her body, slowly numbing as the waters around them were diluted in red. The last of her breath escaped her lips; the lone thought of reuniting with him soon made her inexplicably grin.

Perhaps, by then, Takumi would give an answer to her confession.