Chapter Text
The heroes of the world be scorned, their trust be betrayed, and their deeds and efforts be trampled on.
Such things were said not, even the ruler of evil hath not such bravery, but some had not the bravery for words but possessed the audacity for actions.
As the Vagrant stood, lonely, on the battlefield of his own demons, the windless wasteland of his own creation, he realized that, indeed, rarely do the upright escape the clutches of hateful schemes intact.
Or perhaps, it is bravery that's the hero's original sin, and the heaven's gaze looks not favourably upon a savior interrupting their divine justice.
It had been hours, or even days, since he razed this city to the ground, and yet the dust clings to the air, floating, swirling and shivering under the harsh lights, and he stood there, staring, he couldn't help but feel like one with the dust, afloat, clinging to ruins that will never come back to life.
All of Solaris, its buildings, machinery, and its people, reduced to gaping ruins and whining ghosts, all presented a sacrifice to mourn the Knight of Boreas, the hero whom they sent to damnation with their own hands.
They had to, it was only fair that they gave their all to the Knight they betrayed and doomed to the beyond of death, their lives, their existence, their guilty and their innocent, it was what he deserved.
Through the gloomy night sky that lost its moons, under no more scrutiny, no more light, and no more life, he sat, without bother to the scarlet rivers adorning every corner, and pondered.
How does one go to the beyond of death?
He, whom he dares not call beloved again, is waiting there.
He must be brought back.