《SECOND TRIAL | tk | ✓》Epilogue
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if the story of the red strings of fate is real,
jungkook and taehyungs story might be an anomaly,
for taehyungs end would have been white as a dove and jungkooks end a mangled mess of red that suffocated him.
like how life is or how destiny writes,
they danced around each other in steps one, two, three,
a one of unending tears that were shed,
a two of blood that poured out,
a three of scars so deep they reached the heart.
and finally at the end of the routine
they now stood like a miracle,
of pure red threads that mend together,
each fibre so tight, they held no wrongs,
like how it was supposed to be,
if destiny wrote the first part nicer.
but the mischief doesn't end there,
as destiny read there book backwards,
were they start from husbands and ends in lovers,
the one lover who now secretly carries a ring,
it simple and shining, designed from the remnants of the once wedding rings that laid on a chain around his neck,
it after months remain hidden behind a photobook that contains all the happy memories,
meanwhile the other dove that grew into an eagle secretly smile every time his tongue dares him to reciprocate the "i love you's" that goes unanswered,
and thats okay,
let destiny and fate itself be damned,
for they only just started living.
so both of them now dance again in a routine they created- three, two, one,
a three of family, warmth and home,
a two of happiness, smiles and care,
a one of secret love and beating hearts,
and thats all that matters,
because who knows?
maybe when finally the secret love isn't so secret anymore,
there would be flowers of purple in the aisle,
a union so simple, there is just them in white and their two little ones in matching bow ties,
also, they may need a bigger house so they can adopt two dogs,
cant forget the weekend trips to the beach,
and of course a new room of pink as their family grow bigger.
until the tiger lily isn't so lonely anymore, instead blooms nestled around the scent of a winter sweet.
thank you so much for completing this journey with me. i appreciate each of you. ily tc
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The Vitaean Chronicles - Volume I: The Sanguine Prince
NOTE: Chapters 02 - 19 are currently slated for review and rewrite following the Conclusion of Act I. Please bear this in mind! When tragedy strikes Arcturus Valoura, he is ripped from his carefree existence and thrown into a world of politics and peril, where today's friend is tomorrow's foe. Bereft of the knowledge and skills needed to survive in his new reality, he will need to find his place within a realm that mixes magic and science in impossible ways. He will need to learn the secrets of the mysterious System that allows him to guide his potential for growth even as he struggles to unlock the powers needed to keep himself alive. In the darkest, and most desolate places of an ancient land he will have to find the answers to forbidden questions, and terrible secrets long purged from the histories of mankind. And in so doing, shake the very foundations of reality itself. Release Schedule: Tuesdays (I may post on off-days if I get a lot done). Advanced Chapters available on Patreon starting May 4th 2021. Discord Community: https://discord.gg/3tHKHAx7Ye The Vitaean Chronicles are a debut LitRPG High Fantasy series written with the intent of filling a niche I've yet to see filled anywhere else. This is my first novel of this kind, so please be patient with me. Throughout this story, I will endeavour to create an evolving and expansive narrative anchored around believable characters, compelling plotlines, and a consistent and sensible magic system. The purpose of this work is to create what I believe to be a relatively unique piece of fiction, drawing inspiration from many great stories that have come before from the likes of Tolkien, Jordan, Hertbert, Goodkind, Pratchett, Martin, and several others. My goal is not to create a masterpiece, but simply to create a story that someone can read and re-read with the same joy, same frustration, and same investment each time. This story will contain violence, politics, Shakespearian drama, tongue-in-cheek references, adult content, and well-crafted relationships of both platonic and romantic natures. I will not promise you will like every choice I make. I can only guarantee that I will do my best to create a story I, and you, can be proud of. As I progress, I will have room to incorporate fan-made characters for those interested in making their mark within the tapestry of this tale (with the customary disclaimer that they do so while waiving any rights to future profit, lol). Thank you to Royal Road for giving me the platform to do that, and thank you dear readers past, present, and future for choosing to come on this journey with me. Finally, just to cover myself: This work is Copyrighted to the Author herein known as 'Hannibal Forge', and recreation, distribution, or re-release of any material herein in a commercial or public capacity absent permission from the Author can and will be prosecuted to the full extent of the Law.
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Cecily's blade swung, hitting its mark as always. The man's arm fell to the cold grass of the prison with a familiar thud. He let out a blood curdling scream. A warning to the rest. Stay away, the Hunter is here. That's the name they'd given her, the Hunter. After she cut off the man who tried to rape hers masculinity, they stayed away. She'd made it clear anyone who tried to touch her would be hunted and slaughtered. Cecily kneeled down, pushing the man's face into the dirt so she could use his back as a seat while she trifled through his belongings. "You're hurting my ears," she told him, no remorse in her voice. "Quiet down before I really do kill you."The man but his lip, well aware that she wasn't lying. Sobs shook him, making for an uncomfortable seat. She, however, didn't particularly feel the beed to kill him. It happened, not often, but it did. "Oh, hush up," she hissed, taking out a bag of rations with her metal hand, "it doesn't hurt that bad."With her good, human hand, she dropped the plastic bag of food into her own bag. She pushed up, off the man back. As she was about to walk away, bag slung over her shoulder, brushing against her autumn colored braid, she turned back to him. "Consider yourself lucky," she said, no hatred in her voice, there never was. "Consider yourself lucky that you didn't do anything stupid. And even luckier if one of the scum bagged criminals in here feel a little light in their hearts and help you. Consider yourself luckier if you die there."With that, her old black and white Nike sneakers carried her off into the brush of the huge prison.
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