Synopsis: Left bloodied and blinded, Messmer searched. Not for revenge, but for his wife.
A/N: So, this fucking sunflower boss is kicking my ass. Im cooked.
Enjoy the story!
“Ah! Mother, please!” In the middle of the room, sat the legend of the flames.
He balled up in agony, his fingers covered his face— his eyes entirely.
Blood seeped between the crevices of his digits, his eyes burned with an itch, a feeling he wanted to tear out.
“For how could I— your spawn, be subjected to such a monstrosity of an ending?” The man cried out, his deep wails echoed throughout the chambers around his being.
Messmer mumbled incessantly, begging and twitching as his vision blackened.
He had to gain control— before the chaotic numb feeling goes too far, before his mind slips away completely.
Think of the throne
Think of the order
Think of…
“Wife,”
He called out, saliva dripped down in a reddened pace between his lips.
Messmer reached out to nothing, to the blackness that surrounded him.
“Wife!” He wailed
“Don’t— don’t leave me alone!”
The lanky man keeled over, his hands beat against the wooden floor with fury.
“A-Answer me! Your husband— your Lord demands it!”
With a slurred speech, he crawled, began to move toward where he thought the door might be.
His hand met with a stone wall, it stood firm against his blood covered palms.
He couldn’t think- couldn’t remember the size of the room, the chamber at all for that matter.
The pain was piercing his mind, it left fire in its wake.
“Augh—“
The knight continued his mission, persisted onto finding the exit, the way to his home- his love.
Knees now scratched and molded over with scabs, he stopped his movement, as something cold came into contact with his dirtied palm.
Shakily a pale arm reached down once more and with his posture bent, he leered over the object.
It was fleshy, wet with a warming substance and–
“No,”
Firm hands acted, looked for proof that could refuse the perverse thoughts invading his mind.
“No, no, no!”
Shaky fingers guided their way to a hand, it was soft, so small that he could cover it whole with his own.
He came into contact with a cold metal, a band that had been wrapped around the person's finger.
His darling wife’s finger.
“—Ah! No, this— this is a warning- a vision, it's a farce!”
Not bothering to stop the blood from pouring down his chin, it fell atop of the bloodied woman.
Her eyes remained closed, the middle of her person laid into a deep maroon color.
As best as the weakened knight could, the woman was pulled towards him. She rested upon his lap like a deity.
Her head was angled towards him, it sagged into the man’s chest instantly.
He smelled the apples— the Elder flowers that clung onto her stilled skin.
There was no denying, it was his love that lay crumpled in his arms like a wilted lily.
Only his cries were heard through the chamber, bouncing off the walls with ease as his wails got louder and louder.
The cries were wet, uneven hiccups accompanied the tears.
As if nature mourned her loss; thunder boomed, rain seeped down to drench the land and the wind howled beneath the winking stars.
The man’s shoulders shook, he howled— it was too much, too far beneath the golden rays he was promised.
Burying his head into her neck the man refused to move.
His kin could walk through the gates now— with a cure for his blindness yet he would say put.
For his protective reign is over.
Now that his purpose lay still and quiet.
His grip tightened, wide knuckles turned white with pressure.
“Thy will bury it all in flame,”
His voice but a whisper among the pelting rain.
“I will offer it all; and join thee with the heads of the filthy accusers, who dare put thy to rest.”
Biting down on his cheeks, more crimson seeped down with unwanted reign.
“Rest, my wife,” his forehead met with hers, the surface sticky and wet.
“My love will hold me here—“
“—nnnghh,”
Thin red brows raised, with his mouth agape he let out a noise like no other.
“Darling, love, please!” He didn’t know what he was begging for, but it came out in unseen repetition
Her mind was foggy, vision even more so as her arm raised above her being.
It felt as if daggers pierced through her chest, and needles laid about her arms like unseen birthmarks.
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