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“I'm not a hero.. I can never be someone that protects..” The young tiger cursed himself with tears in his eyes. His sun like eyes glistened with unshed tears. His blurred vision gazed upon the blue yonder, it had turned into the colour of crimson as it crumbled down, the pieces of sky, like fragments of crystal fell from the grace, it faded even before it touched the mud on the land.

The screams of livings echoed as they rushed from shelter to shelter for refuge. But the young tiger remained in one place, for his ears heard not the scream of the people but that of a girl he had never seen before. “I'm sorry, Damselette. I failed you.” He mumbled of his failure to the sky. “I didn't just fail you… I failed them all. I truly am cursed like they say… Born to consume all and leave nothing behind.” He affirmed to no one and the cracks in the sky spread like tumor. As if bleeding with every word this young tiger of a man said.

“I know I am not the hero that the people wanted. I know I cannot be the hero that fulfills the prophecy, but..” He stuttered, his golden pupils slitting up sharp with angry determination. “I cannot give up. Even if it destroys me, I want your help. Help me Damselette!” His words had reached, to his Damselette? The young tiger did not know. But his voice reached high enough for the crumbling sky to skip a beat and bleed crimson.

The words wrote themselves in the sky with sparkling illumination. Visible to every person that was awake. Havocking and panicking people stopped in their tracks, every breathing creature took a moment to stare up at the divine words- in pure numbness and hopelessness. Humans and faes alike.

The deceased Damselette screams in her coffin, the blood is in the hands of those that shall not pass the gates of after life.

The Damselette curses the prisoners of the veil, to be forever doomed and damned.

The hero of doomed shall watch the collapse of the land he holds dear, be damned and accursed for eternity, for it is both its reward and punishment.

The departed, Amaurotic and the [ - ], forever lost in the rift, with the declawed hero's called forth salvation.

Living between the damned and living between doomed. The Damselette's curse shall prevail, o’hated hero.

Sat there, with the sinking ground and crumbling sky, the hated hero. The hero that the living hurt. The hero that the mystical cursed and the hero, the dead support. This was, the Damselette's hero.