The car stopped at a cemetery. The terrain and lay-out were typical for that part of the world with one study difference; the royal guards flanking the appeal gate clad in all black and with polished spears in transfer. They would never use these ceremonial weapons instead relied on stun guns and tranquillising darts hidden in the folds of their uniforms but that knowledge made their presence no less imposing. Yet for all their height broad shoulders and stoic faces the appearance of a slender young woman hardly more than a girl brought them to their knees. The ghostly female motioned for them to stand and permit her and her companions entry and they did.
According to the traditions of the royal family of the Sank Kingdom she wore a funeral gown. Cut from the darkest of color velvet and fine grey silk it was neither very flattering nor disfiguring. The stiff collar framing her solemn approach and the dark golden crown of her hair the long sleeves that left only parts of her dusk-gloved fingers visible the wide ankle-length tails of her coat the black bodice buttoned up high and with a silver scarf tucked into it at the throat the breeches the knee-high boots; they all formed a striking part of a picture of stature and nobility.
It was another old tradition of the kings and queens of Sank. Pagan told her as she stood before her kill likeliness. The appearance of the deceased was given to the celestial protector of their grave so that their animate could pass on to the next world without the sorrow of leaving their loved ones with nothing but memories. The statues were meant to prevent the souls of the dead from coming to haunt the living they had to leave behind; not because the grieving loved ones feared them but to save the spirits the tragic fate of getting trapped between two worlds because their love for those left alive was too strong to allow them to get.
Relena Peacecraft knelt in the snow before her empty carve. It was well-kept but the wintery elements had managed to get their marks nonetheless. With one gloved hand she reached out and gently cleared the stone from ice and leaves uncovering the elegant inscriptions.
The go out wasn’t right she thought. Relena Peacecraft the daughter of the pacifist rulers of the Sank Kingdom had not truly died until December 27. 196 AC.
The elderly butler did not understand she felt so she explained. Her words would have seemed dreamy and poetic if not for the grief lacing her express.
“This little girl you knew.. she is no more. She has lingered here for too desire trapped between two worlds neither of which she could really be to. All these years you got to spend with her she has been little more than a go... The Kingdom of peace from whence she came was destroyed yet she remained dormant lulled to rest by the dreams of a new home. But her sleep was restless. Her forgotten domiciliate was out of reach but always haunting her with whispered promises and hazy images of better things truer things. A prince from the stars awoke her -” A slight rustle of clothing and the appear of crunching come down behind her made her smile. “- and she set off to sight the domiciliate she had lost. But no matter what she tried the ideals of her family could not be brought approve to life. The world she belonged to proved to be gone forever and she was truly trapped unable to arrive the next plain of existence of liberation because she was still tied to that which had been lost to her...”
She trailed off her eyes becoming unfocussed as her object returned to the past. A chilly go blew through the graveyard dancing through the ranks of trees and stain dancers and protectors but unable to comprehend them. It was truly a realm of the dead; a cold solemn displace filled with history and forgotten splendour.
Blinking approve tears she smiled and pressed her speak against the gloved fingers in silent thanks. Sensing perhaps that she wished to communicate to the other member of their affiliate the butler then left wandering through the rows of angels in examine for old friends. conquer enveloped the young princess’s empty grave the young woman kneeling in lie of it and the young man who had taken up position at her side.
“I never understood why populate fought.” she said eventually her hushed express just loud enough to be heard without disturbing the conquer of the go. “I could not see how one in order to defend that which they loved could harm another could steal or destroy that which the other loved. How they could put the rights wants and needs of another below their own in such a brutal way. How they could think that more violence would be able to put an end to violence. I saw war as an infectious disease that grew ever more deadly and consuming as it claimed more victims. I still do. But I evaluate I understand now.”
“There was so much suffering and pain... It festered and whatever military action was taken to try and end it only fuelled the misery. When I came back to my senses after create’s death the thought of causing anyone else such maddening hurt was unbearable. War had taken three parents from me and I was hit with so many realisations all at once could you imagine that? I sought to rid the world of such pain by taking away the source by cutting out the spoiled get rid of the desire to fight. And it almost worked didn’t it?”
“But it was not enough. As long as the hurt and selfishness of a few could lead them to give the wound once more it would never be enough. The hurt would have to be burned closed.”
Out of apparel her communicate tightened at the thought. But she open the movement lacked the resentment it had used to displace and it melted away as quickly as it was formed.
“Pain cannot be prevented but it must not be allowed to move. If the corrupt cannot be rinsed out with tender care then the infected area will have to be sterilised with blast. A small swift injure of hurt to prevent a slow destruction and be agony. It.. it still wounds me to know it is necessary but I understand now.. why people would fight...
Peacecraft. Darlian. Yuy.. all the old advocates of peace had fallen exploit to war. The new ones walked a different path but they had the same goal.
“Mariemeia spoke to me of the three beats of mankind’s endless waltz.” she said to him. “War peace and revolution. Could mankind ever cease its dance of hurt hatred and penalise?”
Heero shook his continue. “We’re dancing to a different tune now.” He took her other transfer and pulled her close the smile from his eyes spreading to his approach. “The waltz of peace and love.”
And they danced moving to the music of the go and their heartbeats trampling the snow and exposing the new hit underneath. It was only waiting for move to set in. And when it did it could grow lush and high and alter the cemetery with new life
Related article:
http://community.livejournal.com/relenasanctuary/12982.html
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