"A question for my King...tell me. What was it like seeing me for the first time. Was I everything you ever wanted from the start or were you unhappy with what was presented. Do you remember the moment I was born?"
♞— " Yo creí que ma había desviado en un sueño... " I thought I had strayed into a dream. He would whisper in a tongue long forgotten, from a land ravaged by the Blight. Long the years have passed since and the King did not have the burdens he carried now.
For the life of him he could not remember the very moment when the Dark Blade had pressed upon his tender breast. The memory of it is clouded full of mists. Only the feeling of indescribable agony he recalled, as his soul was shattered and split in twain. The sweet holy dagger had sliced not only his mortal flesh and bone, but also sundered the core of his very soul.
Then what next came was the feeling of white hot bliss, as a vision descends to him from the Valhalla, enveloped in the purest form of aether. He had held out his arms to receive it, cradling this new form his heart has taken.
Skin as soft as porcelain, pale powerful limbs that shall run light on the green earth beneath the sky. Fair hair like the pale moonlight, and lips like bows of petals. He knew of this face from eons past. Sculpted out of his deep subconscious. When those amethyst eyes had fluttered open to meet his stormy gaze, he saw starlight within the deep wells of their depths in twilight.
Then he was graced with a smile... and he felt himself drown. To what gods and saints would he owe his faith, to be bestowed with such a blessing? Should the earth shatter and crumble beneath his feet, and should the sky fall, he would care naught, so long as he is not parted from this gift evermore.
From that moment on, all he had ever felt was LOVE.
"...From the moment you were born to me, I had never known pure happiness. No other kind of bliss I had felt the very moment my eyes laid upon you." He would confess, as the back of his finger would caress upon that smooth temple to brush away the hair from those eyes. His liege would then guide his hand to press upon the scar that was left. "You are all I had wanted and more... You are worth the ache I bare upon my breast. Worth the sacrifice I had endured... A true gift you are to me. Never see yourself as anything less."
