Truth Of Commitment
⠀❛—『 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞.⠀⠀』—❜
Greetings my adorable friends,
In this page, I shall unravel the tale of the Gentian that begged to be a rose, the tale that the silver scriptures of history has disposed. It all began in an age long past, when the scourge pestilence was released, and when the Ice Goddess with the dying Gentian formed a pact.
I know not if my take on the Gentiana character would be accepted or not, but I have finally gathered the courage to share how I thought of developing this character. Since whether or not Gentiana was a random form Shiva took to communicate with man has been omitted, I have decided to portray your beloved Gentimama as her own character.
If you happen to dislike my take on Gentiana, please feel free to bully me and pull my hair. And I sincerely apologize if I ruined the character for you.
Yours in despair,
Scheherazade.
❛一〔 pink tinted cheeks and jet black lashes 〕一❜
❛一〔 fair mellow limbs and blue satin sashes 〕一❜
❛一〔 carmine lips and pearly pale teeth,
pristine countenance and dainty feet. 〕一❜
❛一〔 violet bruised cheeks and jet black lashes 〕一❜
❛一〔 broken yellow limbs and torn crimson sashes 〕一❜
❛一〔 cracked purple lips and ghastly
bloody teeth, dry countenance and bleeding feet. 〕一❜
In an age long past, we lay our scene, at a
time when the soil of Eos basked in the sun's
unearthly gleam. The predominant season of the year
was spring, where the meadow's blades descant and the dawn's
birds sing. In that beautiful yet callous world did the Gentian
live, a maiden with dark long tresses and emerald eyes that smile
and forgive. She loved children, music, poetry, and prose, and her only wish was to be a rose. The languor of her mortal flesh she fervently cursed, dusk by dusk, until the embodiment of enmity has heard her violent verse. The embodiment of enmity, that creature that bore the face of man, Incubus was his name, his declamatory words and empty promises enticed dreams of gold and raptures untold, he vowed to turn the Gentian to a rose should she play his game. Incubus offered the maiden a strange mirror the reflected no light; to persevere it at all time, he fervently did incite. Incubus spoke of a tree that drew the moon near the globe, that defined each eclipse's angle and slope. Prima materia was the substance of
the so called tree of life. He explained that this tree is not of this world, and that it belonged to the afterlife. Incubus promised that should she impale the tree's trunk with Pluto's knife then death would untangle itself from life, and the world would be free from disease and pain, free from sorrow; for none shall ever be slain.
He promised the Gentian that she would become an immortal
flower, that she will live forever and feel the centuries
pass like hours. The maiden believed his lies with
pride, Incubus' orders and instructions she devoutly complied.
The birth of the immortal flower
The Gentian did as Incubus instructed with
innocent vigour. Black foam did Pluto's blade
trigger, a mighty flock of pestilence burst from
the tree's core, devouring the light that mortals
earnestly adored. The thick miasma of death plagued
heaven's vault, ravaging the stars that saints oft
praise and exalt.
The Gentian indeed became an immortal flower,
but the centuries did not pass like pleasant hours; with this scourge it felt that an hour was a prolonged year, and all this horrible pain and menacing tithers made the Gentian wish for death to be near. Yet it could never come, her wretched self was by death shunned.
The maiden etched the remnants of her soul into the strange mirror Incubus offered, persevering whatever that is left of her in an ghastly coffer. She shattered the mirror to five shards, all of which Incubus threatened to discard, should she not impale his heart with Pluto's blade and set him free. That, she did, and Incubus dissolved into a black stream that slithered inside the Gentian.
⠀⠀⠀【│❛I offer тнєє flesh,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀A warm νєѕѕєℓ destined
⠀ to be ＣＯＬＤ.❜│】
〖│❛ In exchange of a ｓｏｕｌ. ❜│〗
❛一〔 Ｆｏｒｍｌｅｓｓ,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀yet endlessly seeking form. 〕一❜
❛一〔 With this vessel,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀I draw the lines of thy soul. 〕一❜
「 I grant thee form. 」
The Bargain
The immortal flower called forth the Goddess of Snow, and spoke to her of how her song turned to sighs and her weal to woe. She wept sorrowful fountains of mercury; for she is shunned by the realm above and by the chasms below.
Taking advantage of the love the frostbearer still harboured for mankind, the immortal flower made a request of a peculiar kind.
❛ To melt into a stream of burning mercury一 the thought of it drives me mad. O Thou, the most benevolent and forgiving of Gods, thy countenance seems neither glad nor sad. I thought the frostbearer was compassionate and benign, but even dry sympathy Thou dost not feign. I am undying, unlike the rest. I have done many wrongs but should Thou cut open my chest, Thou would find a heart of gold and a platinum crest. The frostbearer loves mankind, yes? Yet she can do naught but observe, her intense emotions she is inclined to reserve. I offer yee my flesh, thy radiance would bring this mercury death, and I shalt be free forevermore,
and Thou will be able to do more than just observe the star's
denizens whom you adore. I offer my body in exchange of
Thy soul一 Let us join and be whole. I only ask that my
name, my countenance and my pain
forever be remembered by Thee alone.❜
Thank you sincerely for taking the time to read this abomination of a page. I have omitted the purpose and whereabouts of the mirror and other things, I thought it would be for the best if I expanded on all that which I have not thoroughly explained in solos instead of shoving everything here.
I understand that what has been presented here is likely to be detestable, and for that I apologize for vexing you.
Please click on either the fish icon or the bucket knight icon to deliver justice and revenge.
