#ignisira

     Precious little child of a dancer. 

A syllable that would be close to “DANGER”. I’m sure you never thought of that when you saw the fabric that she passed over to do, with her smile as bright as the sun, and beautiful pink hair that was a light shade like the colour of your cheeks. Son of ELEGANCE, taught the expression of smiles. A small curve of lips, with a heavy weight that it carries out, unbeknownst to you, and to those around you. A small curve that could change a person’s life, unimaginable, isn’t it?

It’s easy to find someone who LOOKS DOWN UPON YOU, isn’t it?

You are often called foolish, silly, folly, UNSUITED for the rage of war, you didn’t deny it. You thought that too. With the beautiful light scarf, you’ve always held that to your heart, never to separate, no chance to part. Your mother’s love, her passion, her power was placed within that thin and pale elongated cloth.

Stay awake, won’t you? Did you ever know.. that your fear to sleep and see vivid images, can actually serve to be the night guard? This means you could protect your LORD as he passes out, unable to defend himself.

But you wish for rest.. beautifully melancholic dancer..

War NEVER sleeps now. You cannot rest until it is all GONE. You.. or them.

No one can ever change this animal you’ve become.

-o-

      Precious little prince with a crown too big for you

Did you ever KNOW that playing the ruler is not just walking on a silver platter? I bet you have, the reason why you were chilled upon hearing that in the future, you may be the one who usurps the Throne. Too huge for your tiny little body, little golden child.

You with your way of speech, had been called COLOURFUL, difficult and tiresome, close to incomprehensible by your peers. That impossible trait of being a hero on a quest for the sword that fits that “twitching arm”, your almost imaginary sense of direction, but you know better that when the situation is pleading, that your intellect comes into play.

Don’t you think it would be quite a joke to call you hot-blooded? Remember when it was said that royalty was not given on a silver platter? Yes my child.. your blood trails all the way to your ancestor, the Hero King Marth. 

This also means that it is your responsibility to have the Fell Dragon sealed, isn’t it. The LAST of the Exalted with the daughter of the Lead Shepherd.

You’re just a KID, and life is a NIGHTMARE.

It’s only too bad.. no one cares. They’ll always just want you to be that idiot who is lower than them.

-oo-

     Precious little child whose mother loved impossibility more than she could ever love you.

EXPECTATIONS.. the burdensome names that you are so tired of hearing. Those false praise words that are bestowed upon you. An earsore, aren’t they? You would perhaps agree, knowing how through you are with these folly words they keep letting out of their pointless mouths.

You wanted to have it stop. You began to behave differently, picking different weapons so that they may not look at you as the same person as the people who brought you into this world. You are UNALIKE. Your mother, after all, never ceased speaking about this one hopeless love that she had, outweighing the importance of raising you as a well behaved young woman.

She always DISAPPEARED, even when she was here, this is not your home. Not where the only feeling that you have is REGRET.

But.. you took it on yourself that it is better off this way. You didn’t need her love, her presence was enough.

-ooo-

Oh you three children.. When you thought the Fell Dragon was finally sealed and you could RETURN to your old haunts, be the one you could love.. You have to pick them right up, changing your identity, burning every scar and every friendship that had come along the way because your job of PROTECTION hasn’t ended.

Soldiers are in the battlefield for as long as Nike watches them. A battle with their minds, or against their own kin. Who ever said you could sit back and enjoy the show? You ARE the actors we watch. It’s only too bad eh..

What a kind nostalgia. The stench, the people.. the events.. oh you three little tired faces..