act i : love is either a shrine or a scar

this is the story of two brothers. ezra dreamt of the life beyond the walls, dreamt of a world beyond his island. the iron clad rule of a king that mercilessly subjecting the poorest of his subjects to the outside, left to fiend for themselves. and then the attack. coordinated by the so called outside. another king, another villain. but this is not his story, not the story of king dimitri & king rodrick, but the two brothers. deep inside the capital of angelica, far away from his island, his own brother became right hand to the king. an imposter. a brilliant planner. yet ezra looks upon zacharias with nothing but discontent. the enemy. who is the enemy? to the boy who thought he was doing the right thing, to the boy who would sacrifice it all for the people he loved ... who is the enemy? as he waits for her to rise, as he watches her eyelashes flutter awake. (for a moment, they are not on opposite sides again. the princess of an enemy kingdom & the rogue terrorist that laid waste. instead he is adorned in his soldiers uniform, dancing with her.) but the dream shatters, the reality sets in. it's a shame, truly, that she is so beautiful. that she must play such a role in this war. princess clara. doomed to follow him as the visions say. the forest is theres, just for now. the cabin he built for their escape, the world where it is just the two of them. he hears her before he sees her, grasping his hand in hers. so much regret. so much anger in her face when she sees him. it's heartbreaking. but it must be done. ❝ this is only us. it's temporary. ❞ he promises, his hand tightening over hers. ❝ i did what had to be done. ❞ she will never understand. his brother killed her father. his friends her friends. the cycle will always repeat. doomed blood. ❝ — the visions. they always ended the same. the future showed you, the present showed you. it was written this way. ❞

her eyes glisten with tears, her heart bubbles with anger. she's played this conversation before, a thousand times since the siege. what would he say to her? would he lie? justify it? would he pretend to be a hero or always play the part of a villain? but to here him say it, so callously. how could clara believe a world that comes out of his mouth? that it was simply, written this way? what had to be written so villainously? whaat was the point of such war? ❝ i don't understand — this place — it's . . . ❞ temporary? how could she be in a temporary place? her eyes leave his, suddenly searching for the end to the forest, for the ripples in the clouds. in the silence, she hears a distant roaring, like a faintness. the illusion. her eyes travel to the cottage behind them, to the green palace & she realizes its the sanctum they dreamt of. a memory. they sit together, on the root of the hospital. ezra's hand in her hair, the softness of his voice. where would you run to, little soldier? a place in the forest — what about you princess? a quiet cottage, with moss on the walls, close to the trees but not far from the water. he built it. he created the world for the two of them, away from everyone else. she hates him for it. ❝ there is always a choice. ❞ a choice to live or die, to kill or be killed. clara fights against his grip. ❝ what visions? you speak in lies, in myths. you cheated your way here, you cheated your way to win the war. the throne room, your brother? you could have killed me. ❞ it stings more than she knows, how she wishes to take to the golden dagger her father gifted her & to stick it through his chest. to leave him bloody. ❝ — i want no future with you. i want nothing to do with you. ❞