#tw:corpses

Angielle was quiet, the wind carried a somber tone, a quiet plea for mercy as the witches painted the city in red. And Lucette could only watch as the massacre unfolded beneath her very feet. She was watching from the balcony, listened to the screams that were echoing from every corner, watched as another family was ripped apart by magic. She watched in silence as her kingdom fell apart and was rebuilt in her mother‘s image. Her worst nightmare coming to love and she could do nothing about it.

Lucette could still hear them… her friends crying and pleading for their lives, asking for mercy, staging a rebellion, trying to save them all! But they were powerless against Mythros, against the spell he had woven into Lucette‘s very being. Against the words whispered on that faithfull night she had acquired her true powers. She knew better know. She had fallen for a false prophet, one who had promised her that her friends would be save if she would only fulfill a simple request… To free her mother, to free the queen from her chrystal prison and everything would be just fine.

A lie so sweet… Lucette just had to believe Mythros and so here she stood on top of a mountain of blood and corpses.

She didn‘t even flinch once she heard familiar footsteps behind her. There were no secrets inside of these walls. „My princess you shouldn‘t be standing here, it‘s far too cold. Come back inside with me your supper is waiting.“ Mythros voice was still as sweet as honey and Lucette felt the urge to rip his vocal chords out. But the magic her mother had cast upon her compelled her to obey. But she had enough energy to utter a single phrase.

„Why did you spare me?“