“Artie.....” A woman's voice called the Knight. In this dream, the Knight's eyes had opened. She is dreaming of a memory.

Her dreamscape began to form a sight. It formed a beautiful forest, with greener grasses, decorated with white bells. The blank, black surroundings turned into the golden hour. What surprised the Knight was how the beautiful white bells would only appear when she walked in the dreamscape. She walked forward.

Immediately, a motorbike appeared on her left, along with a road. The road appeared to be ruined, with rubbles and wounds from grenades filling it.

”...!” The Knight stood in surprise. This was my bike. It was given to me by Gen. Uther.

She remembered from where the details of her dreamscape came from. As she remembered more, the dreamscape began to form more details from her memories. This is....the forest.

“Wait, Andrea!” A voice blared from behind.

”...!” The knight has taken aback from the voice. That's....my voice, she murmured to herself. This is...

“A memory forgotten.....” A whisper entered her ears. *Kuh! What is this?!* The Knight thought in confusion. *“You shall remember”* the whisper continued.

What memory?! I know what this is?! The knight muttered to herself, but the whisper persisted, “You are beginning to forget. Please, remember this memory.”

The Knight fell into her fronts. The voices continue to blare in the dreamscape. As the Knight listened to the voices, she remembered this part of her memory

“Kuh...haah....why are you running? You'll break your lungs!” the voice, 'Artie', said to the other, 'Andrea'

“You said the Golden Hour is the best for my lungs”, 'Andrea' responded. Immediately, a jolt of energy rushes through the Knight that she stood right back up.

This is that time. The forest, me and Andrea., the Knight tells to herself. Right in front of her, two statues begin to form. It formed two women. One woman had the appearance of a striking, fresh-faced boyish woman with a brown bob cut. The other woman was taller, with slightly curvier appearance, with a beautiful face, wrapped in a shorter, messier hair.

The Knight saw in shock. That was me, she looked at the shorter woman, and that was Andrea, she looked at the taller woman. This was years ago. Me, Andrea, and the forest. The statues began to move, and turned into two people: Artie —– the Knight herself —— and Andrea, a woman from her past as a soldier.

“Don't run! You know how hard I tried to get the medics to cure you quickly.....” Artie said to Andrea,

“Artie, the time is short” Andrea responded. She then sat down in an open area, where a view of the hill is visible. “I didn't think it was possible to have views like this.....”

“W-well....here we are regardless.” Artie said to Andrea, while trying to regain her energy lost from all the running and motorcycle-riding.

“This is....the Golden Country, isn't it?” Andrea looked into the view, and said in awe. The air was exceptionally windy, and the sun was uncharacteristically bright in an era of suffering that is the Britannian Empire. The beautiful sight, far away from the colourless, gravelly, bombed-out Area 1 —– what was known as London in the past —– that the two women knew, was enough to heal Artie's exhausted body and heart. She sat down besides Andrea. The white bells has filled the grasses around them.

“It is....real. It's not like what I've seen in my visions....” Artie muses to Andrea. For the Knight, looking at the two women in the background, the irony of dreaming of a woman seeing what she dreamed of was not lost on her.

“This sight was what I have shown to you....” the whisper continued, “I made you come here”

The Knight looked away in confusion, what do you mean, you made me come here?, she asked to the whisper. The whisper only calmly responded with, “Witness”

“Good God, I feel like staying here forever” Andrea muses, then looks at Artie. Artie looked at Andrea.

“There's something I need to do.” Artie said, “This, might be a little strange....”, she continued.

“Nothing is ever stranger, Artie. Go ahead, there are no telescreens” Andrea responded with a smile. Then, she looked around, making sure that there weren't any surveillance devices watching them.

“There were microphones....”, the whisper said to the Knight, “But I destroyed them”. The Knight's expression shifted to an annoyed one, as she realized that there was someone who knew that they were there. What did you do? That was not good, the Knight said in annoyance.

“I....was helping you....”, the whisper responded. The Knight's face returned to a mournful face. She must continue seeing the memory.

“Your injury....I am the only one who could cure it” Artie said to Andrea, with her face blushing red. Andrea gets confused at the sight, then smiled.

Her smile made Artie jump slightly. She looked away from Andrea.

“Hey....come on, we came this far. Do what you gotta do”, Andrea reassures Artie that things will be fine, and not awkward. Artie slowly looked back into Andrea's face.

Andrea...., the Knight gazed into her, by walking towards past Artie. The Knight kneeled down, and gazed into Andrea's eyes. Of course, this being a projection of memory, Andrea won't be able to notice her.

Artie then looked down, “P-please unbutton your shirt....” she said to Andrea. Surprisingly, Andrea happily obliged. “O-only the first two buttons!” Artie bashfully shouted. Andrea could only gave her a happy sigh.

On her chest, Artie could see a marking, branded seamlessly. Her face turned into a fearful look. “Not good.....”

“Hm?” Andrea looked at her chest in confusion. “Is this a bad thing? I didn't feel any pain...”

Artie's face becomes mortified, “No...no....”. But Andrea's face stayed confused, “What is it?”. Artie then sighed, then explained to Andrea that the marking was a dangerous, life-threatening marking. The Knight then stepped back as she remembered this memory in detail.

That was a stigmata. she said to herself, But it was a stolen technique from Lilith that it could kill anyone marked with it at random. Andrea could've suddenly died that day

“But you were besotted with the soul of the King of Knights” the whisper continued, “You were the only one who could cure her”, it continued, “Your magia was made for this”

I was the only one.....so that was why you led us to the country, the Knight finally understood everything. I....wanted to say thank you, she thanked to the whisper, I don't know who you might be, but, please, I want you to have my gratitude, she continued with a single tear, shed down into a white bell.

“She was your trusted partner....you were her ki——”, the whisper continued, but it was cut off in the middle. The Knight becomes shocked, then she looked around to find the whisper. Hey, where are you, she shouted.

Nothing comes up. The whisper was gone completely from the dreamscape. All what's left is her memory playing out in front of her.

“This might hurt, I apologise”, Artie said as she begun her technique. As she chanted in an old language, she closes her eyes, and put her palm into Andrea's chest.

“HAAARGH.....” Andrea exclaimed as the palm touches her chest. Her face is telling Artie to stop. The Knight's face becomes even more terrified and tearful as she witnessed the pain that Andrea had gone through.

I'm sorry...I'm sorry.... the Knight tearfully apologized, knowing that Andrea couldn't hear her.

A long time had gone by. How was she able to deal with this pain?!, the Knight said to herself. But then, it was made apparent that past Artie knew how painful the process was, because the first thing the Knight saw was Artie blacking out as the stigmata in Andrea's chest had disappeared.

“This....is....my gratitude”, Artie said to Andrea as she fell into Andrea's lap. Andrea began to hold Artie in her arms, “T-thank you....for....standing up....for me....that...day” Artie continued as she begun to black out, while she attempts to hold Andrea's cheek.

Andrea grabbed her hand, “Yes, Artie. I know. Thank you”, she said with a smile, “Hey, close your eyes”, Andrea continued.

Artie smiled, then closes her eyes as she shifted into a sleep. Andrea smiled, then lied down on the grass, positioning herself so Artie's face is comfortably lapped onto her shoulder. Andrea then gazed at Artie's face in a sight that signified a pitying, protective feeling.

But there was another feeling in Andrea's eyes. As Artie dozed off in her sleep, Andrea strokes her hair gently. “Hey, the sight is beautiful....I hope you're seeing it in your sleep.”

The Knight was taken aback as she realized that this moment was the beginning of their unity.

But then, the Knight remembered something. This moment was the start of darkness.

All the darkness that tried to break their unity, it all started here. As the two of them formed real love, in a world where love is twisted for eternal victory.

The Knight shed a single tear. Then, everything shattered into ashes.

The entire dreamscape fell apart. It turned into ashes, and the sky turned black.

Everything went black. It was time to wake up.

In a dark throne room full of blood, skeletons, and telescreens, the boy in the throne felt sadness. The boy was sleeping. He shouldn't have dreamed of anything.

But he did. And the dream brought tears into his eyes

The sight of a woman, witnessing a loving moment she had, broke the boy into sadness. He remembered appearing in the reality of the woman's dream, leading her into that loving moment. But the boy did not know how much it meant for her.

“The King of Knights.....thank you.....”

The boy's tears cracked open the skeletons on his nearest position. It all shattered into ashes, eaten by pools of blood in the throne room.

The dream made the boy feel again. And his thoughts on rebellion was fueled even more.

#writetober #writing #OCs #utopianism #edentrius

The boy in the throne stared in silence on the sight of suffering as the black void on the screen engulfs the right side of the screen.

Projected on the small telescreen in front of him are images of unlife. The man, begging for his life, torn to shreds by the nondescript, beastly black void. The woman, begging for the man’s life, on her knees. Her tears have stopped flowing.

“....” The boy stares in silence. No expression was made, with his eyes gazing into the floor. And then the boy gazed onto the screen once again as he notices that the woman had stopped begging and crying.

“I pray to Great Father to absolve the sins of mine, and the sins of my husband….In Heaven we trust, In Him we serve our lives to. For Great Father. Hail Britannia”

Crunch. The sound of flesh, dismembered, blared from the telescreen. And yet, the boy felt nothing. The boy glared down to his bare feet, standing on the bloodied throne. The throne room is full of blood, dead bodies, cables, and telescreens. It is a throne room for him and only* him*.

For “The Eye” is what the boy is. Always watching, always reporting. He is the omniscient watching eyes of the Empire of Britannia. *Do not let dissidents go. *That is the only purpose for his life. The Boy closed his eyes.

“ARGH!” —– he exclaimed in pain.

The electric jolt was stronger than usual. The Boy sighed, then shouted one more time. The electric jolt gets worse. This is what his life consists of. Eyes wide open, for the rest of his life, while keeping it wide shut at the sight of monstrosity. Showing emotion is a form of punishable disagreement, or worse, dissent. All the boy could do is to stare down.

“...!” The Boy returned to an upright position in his throne. Someone is coming.

The door at the end of the hallway opened. A priestly man, clad in black, with his long, overflowing blond hair walked towards his throne. All that the boy focuses on is the Priest’s flowing long hair sweeping all the blood in the floor.

“My hair? No need to worry.” The priest reassured the boy, which was followed by the priest flipping his hair around, now clean from blood, “Magia. What a wonderful miracle”

“....” The Boy remained quiet.

“Your Little Brothers were on duty, I figured”

“....!” The Boy looked at the priest in shock. Is this a mistake? Am I going to receive worse punishments? The Boy thought in fear. And at the same time, the dead bodies begins to move.

*“I am a priest. I do not have an interest in one’s emotions. Only sins” *The Priest says as he immobilizes the dead bodies, “O Young Krishna, how painful this sight looks to me”

“...” The Boy switched his expression to a disproving one.

“You have gained a sin. It is one you can cleanse yourself from” The Priest elaborated as he looked onto the telescreen showing the woman’s death. “Say, I do not remember seeing a woman on that screen. Did you will her into existence?”

The boy’s expression turned into a confused one.

“Curious, this one little sheep is. You erased an existence”

The boy’s expression now becomes one that demands an explanation.

“Curious, these Little Brothers of yours. You made them. It devoured the woman to void”

The boy now understood what the Priest meant. He manifested an abnormality. An abnormality to end existences. I destroyed the woman’s existence, he thought.

Wait, wasn’t there a man besides that woman? No, there was never a man. The boy had realized that the man never existed. And his memories of the woman are fading. Both of these people were never here.

“It seems that you have understood what you have brought into this world” The Priest followed. “I am here to warn you —— Great Father does not like this”

The boy shivered. A disagreement from Great Father meant that a worse punishment was incoming. His mind is now in shambles, with pools of blood in the throne room boiling. I must erase everything.

Everything is wrong. Everything must not exist.

“You must repent. You have the means to repent.” The Priest ordered the boy. But the boy knew what The Priest meant. Not bending to Great Father.

My Sin was not for erasing her existence. My Sin was to let my Little Brothers kill indiscriminately.

“Great Father has sinned. He must be cleansed”

It was the last word from The Priest to the boy. It had an air of dissent. The Boy now fears The Priest’s life, and it fuels his soul now. The pools of blood had stopped boiling, and the boy could feel black voids forming in the corners of Britannia. Repent.

And the void starts to devour.

#writetober #writing #OCs #utopianism #edentrius