I sat atop my empty throne. Cold and alone. I overlooked the now desolate room where my kin used to argue, laugh and fight. Share tears and woes; all in good faith. Those now seemingly phantasmal times replay before my eyes. However such times will only ever remain a dream. As always, the perpetual march of time pulls such events with it into the ether of the past. The eventuality that I am currently faced with was an absolute inevitability. It always has been like this and probably always will be.

I feel a dull pain in my chest. It does not hurt as I long ago lost that feeling as every member of my kind: Soldier, civilian, man, women, child, the elderly, orphans, infants were all systematically tortured to death or forever lay in slumber sealed away. The day the mutilated corpse of my 7 year old daughter was brought before me I lost the ability to cry. The day my wife’s defiled remains were placed before me the sky wept in a seemingly perfect pathetic fallacy.

Some may ask how it came to this. I can only lament my own shortcomings. But, I guess that can only come about through hindsight. They invaded without warning. I don’t know how many envoys of peace I sent I lost count. Every time I sent one, they were sent back in unknown numbers of pieces if at all. We were caught off guard and could not even mount a proper resistance as the populous was decimated. When we finally got our forces together, millions lay dead never given a proper burial.

We mounted a counter offensive to push them back to the borders. It was only then made clear how terrifying they were. Children, not yet dead, buried with the mutilated corpses of their parents. It seems like a lot of the generals, including my 3 sons and eldest daughter, were subjected to scaphsim.

The anguish you would feel to see your 3 sons in that state and your beloved wife raped then slowly, bit by bit, cut to death... I was in denial at first but when the proof was laid before my eyes... I knew how it would end, but that sight would reform anyone onto a path of revenge. I didn’t just stop at their border I pushed trying to avoid civilian casualties on both sides and annex the opposing country to avoid this ever happening again and as an attempt at a final reconciliation with the opposing nation. Many of my kin agreed with my point of view. I should have known. However, we never remember from the mistakes of the past. These events have transpired an innumerable number of times under different contexts. The only thing that remains constant is the person in my position is killed or sealed forever and my kin are driven to the verge of extinction.

Fairness is nothing but a subjective fallacy for us, a flawed and faulty belief based on unsound reasoning the likes of we have yet to see. Our race has, since time immemorial, been consigned to the void.

Every time we are near to forming an empire that we can use as a final reconciliation between our two races the apostles of the end appear and massacre us indiscriminately.

It’s cold.

It hurts.

It is unfair.

Why?

Why does it have to be this way?

Are we to be constantly locked into a loop of falling to ruin on behalf of them?

Hatred, fury, anger, anguish, remorse and regret are but a drop in the ocean of pure frustration of the inability to do anything against them.

The apostles of the end are effectively an automatic defence mechanism of the kingdom itself. And every time they push our forces to the brink of destruction. No matter how many times we beg, fight run and cry the apostles will come and kill all of us. This is an absolute and unchanging constant.

I open my eyes one last time and see those vile apparitions not of this world. The ones the humans herald as a hero.

The hero in an ecstatic manner exclaims “We did it! It’s finally over we defeated the demon king!”

There are cheers heard all around of unadulterated euphoria. A maniacal cacophony of jeers signifies the end of hope for all of our kind.

I look down to see the “holy sword” pinning me, through my chest, to my, no their, throne.

My eyes close one last time as, with all my remaining strength, I squeeze out one last word hundreds in my position have yelled out.

“Why?” softly reverberates throughout the room, holding the amalgamated anguish of my entire race.

It’s cold. Too cold. My fragmented conscience collapses as I succumb to the coldness and am consigned to an infinite void of darkness.

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My first fanfic. Nothing else really to say