One born underneath the light of the crimson moon, a curse of an existence. An abomination to countless, murals depicting on walls, these never leaving images. Words from an Elven, forever holding them near. Her horrible years, enduring its cruelty. Refusing to remaining in silence, breaking free from her bondage. Racing in a black abyss, avoiding shadowy hands, reaching for the faintest light. These true feelings, those reflecting to the current day. Mostly putting down her arms, taking them up at times. The uncertain king, this being before him, those from the dead as well.

"Don't let yourself get consumed in rage...remain just the way I knew you..." Luna warmly smiling at him.

"Michael! Keep fighting!" Serenity encouraging.

Understanding his pain, his natural rage. One dictating the lives of others, intending to kill him. Executing his sister, a princess no more than a pawn. Constantly remaining quiet, standing on the side. Witnessing cruelty, his many jobs to his mind. These overflowing feelings, his spilling anger. Refusing to stay in silence, confronting the king. These two clashing hearts, their different stance. His dreadful gaze on those above, his sister and Luna encouraging him. Lowering his head, thinking on those words.

"Goddess...stand down..." Michael looking to her.

Blackness surrounding him, traveling within its loneliness. Enduring harsh tides, his path without light. Those diving to the depths, reaching out to him. His gratefulness to them, appreciating their action. His clearing path, his vision on his goal. The young woman lowering her weapon, Rangald's confusion. Facing the mercenary, her eyes on him. His displaying resolve, understanding his sentiments. Years from old, pushing onward herself, stepping on a plane far above her own.

"Are you certain? If I leave, I will not return." Folding her arms.

A grand one interfering, answering the cries from two. Her one of many jobs, mostly putting down her arms. Witnessing the path of others, allowing a natural order, moving beyond at times. Flowing dreams, racing after what is within. A deep desire, countless more existing. Unleashing it on her enemies, damning innumerable. That mercenary aware of his decision, requiring closure, his confident eyes on her. Recognizing his determination, accepting his direction.

"I have to settle this myself." Assuring her.

His certain vision, a reason not there for her to remain. Watching over others, seeing their outcome. Each progressing in their own way, rising to their challenges. Their great sorrow, relentlessly persisting. Understanding these emotions, those familiar feelings. Needing to fulfill her wish within, awaiting the moment to do so. Living a better life, distancing herself from battle. Her willingness to take up her weapons again at times, her soft heart. This forever true, one proceeding as herself, another individual doing the same.

"Very well then..."

Powerful sentiments, those following through on it. Feelings guiding them, their boiling rage. Wanting to see a solution to its end, wishing to do so themselves. A soul in a raging storm, tackling a risky game. An entity clashing against a repetitive cycle, creating infinite possibilities. A mercenary proceeding in his direction, allowing him to do so. Uncertainty from Luna and Serenity, this man denying assistance. That dematerializing demon, leaving the two, those with her disappearing as well.

"You are a fool, throwing away your one lifeline." Rangald's sharp voice.

A grand influence, two requesting her aid. Caring for him, concerning with him. Refusing it, choosing to proceed down his path. A conclusion without an end, his determination to craft it himself. His branding emotions, his boiling fury. That enemy in front of him, this way to gain closure. An entity understanding his decision, acknowledging it. Gazing at the king, his stern vision. His choice to go forward, his feverishly burning resolve. Opposing the reason of this one, his sounding soul.

"We will see who the fool is..."

"Indeed we shall..." Rangald agreeing.

Two opposing sides, different classes. Those living underneath the influence of another, steadily playing into their cruel game. Trying to find a place of acceptance, working towards surviving, not wishing for much. A betraying hand, lives no more than commodities. These ill sentiments, those feelings coming free. Needing to settle this conflict, a powerful foe before the mercenary. Luna and Serenity worrying, his insane decision, those wielding magic on a higher level. His powerful resolve, forcing against his opponent.

"He has chosen his path, all we can do now is watch." Cyra calmly folding her arms.

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Choosing his way, wanting to see this through to its end. His certain direction, seeing two again. Following through on what is within, his igniting soul. Refusing aid, these lingering sentiments. Guidance from them, his hatred towards one. Deplorable actions, this mercenary meeting the challenge. A king stringing along occurrences, numerous no more than pieces on a board. The chilling surroundings, ice sweeping across the floor, rushing at Michael. His blazing body, readying himself. Two wishing for his safety, their shaking visions.

"Michael..." Luna holding her hands in a praying posture.

"Brother..." Serenity's distant tone.

"What will you do, Michael...?" Cyra's interest.

Colorful hearts, seeking what is within. Trampling on others, many igniting souls. Opposing the other's rationality, endlessly clashing. Selfishness guiding the way, a lesson throughout time. An entity from the farthest abyss awakening once again, bringing demise in the wake of her despair. Engraving her soul, her voice eternally shaking countless. Opening infinite possibilities, this of her will. Those following along, reaching for the nigh impossible. Michael's harshly burning flames, dashing towards the king, his blade afar. Energy racing through the magic, an opportunity at hand.

"You really are a fool!" Rangald striking at the mercenary.

Their clashing weapons, this mercenary withstanding the magic. Earning his title over the years, crushing those beneath his feet. Wounds on his body, lessons forever engraving within him. Carrying ill sentiments, witness cruelty around him. Unable to do more, needing money. Living everyday with his decisions, nothing remaining. Seeing two valuable ones again, his aching heart. Wanting to bring meaning to their demise, his lingering feelings. His attention on his path, moving closer towards it, that dim light.

"A fool maybe, but at least this fool has priorities!" he retorts.

Those from differing worlds, their meeting for a moment. Breaking past boundaries, countless possibilities in their hands. Their connecting hearts, these feverish emotions. Separation coming, yearning for it again. Forcing against the reason of others, shouting their souls, these uniting points. Slowly pushing back Rangald, the mercenary's surprising strength. Breaking away from him, pursuing the king. His approaching blade, that ducking man. The weapon narrowly passing his line of vision, immediately leaping back, landing a few feet away from Michael.

"You really are a monster as they say." Rangald's begrudging voice.

Blackness within it, carrying it for a long time. Unleashing it on his enemies, his sounding spirit. Shattering rubble, flames scarring the tiles. The thick scent, the chilling wind, the two mixture of energies. The mercenary's unrelenting resolve, continuously pushing onward, opposing the king's rationality. His monstrous capabilities, two dashing towards one another. Flying sparks, circling the other. Moving parallel to each other, hatred from their eyes. Instantly clashing, their immense ferocity.

"If I am a monster, then so be it...at least I know I am not a traitor." Michael's calm tone.

His numerous experiences, choosing his way to go forward. Witnessing cruelty, losing those to his heart. Proceeding in his own way, this opponent before him. Everything in the palms of a king, a man stringing along countless. Seeing their true colors, facing against his challenge. A mercenary's great sins, that person dangling on the edge. Embracing his corruption, refusing to remain in silence.

"Perhaps I am, but to the mass. You will be seen as a man who turned his blade on their beloved king." Rangald faintly smiling.

A face behind the mask, innumerable playing along in his game. Unaware of his direction, blindly following his shadow. Steadily closing in the walls around them, living their lives in ignorance. Witnessing this over his years, these agonizing feelings. Two pushing against the other, an icy mist spreading through, unease from the mercenary. His attention on his surroundings, that certain king. Lowering the temperature, solidifying the area. This person's grand influence, a pointless effort.

"So long as you live...such corruption will continue here..." Michael's conflicting tone.

Establishing his stance, a king residing at the top. Those below no more than pieces, commodities on a board. Living through terrible conditions, working his way towards betterment. None other with him, his lingering emotions, his black path. That energy around him, its chilling force. Dashing away, his extending flames. Breaking through the cold, the violently exploding assault. A room entirely freezing over, the mercenary's mind on two. Words from a leader, thinking on his direction.

What is the point...? Even if I kill him...I still have nothing. I don't have Luna...I don't have my sister...I don't have a home, family, or friends...

Living each day with little, two siblings cherishing the other. Those wanting betterment, a brother working hard. Nearly achieving his goal, wanting to take his sister elsewhere. Meeting an innocent princess, that one shining a bit of light into his dark world. Everything slipping out of his hands, this helpless feeling. His great fury, his guiding rage. Those concerning with him, a mercenary wanting to see this conflict through to its end. A useless effort, this weight crushing down on him. Standing straight, lowering his blade, a confusing action to the king.

"You can't go blaming yourself for what your father did, that's something I would never pin on you." His confident gaze to her.

A pure individual, one shining light to his darkness. A man living through terrible experiences, unleashing his rage on his foes. Enduring his difficult ventures, accepting his challenges. Resisting horrible conditions, his fiery heart. Constantly rising, opposing the reason of others, his never dying resolve. His eyes on her, witnessing her faint smile. That innocent one taking hold of his hand, rising from the land, this surprising him.

"Come on you grouchy man, let's go have some fun for once." Brightly smiling at him.

Even if I am successful...what is the point...?