~Part XII Verse 2: ~ Reenactment of Knighthood ~
~Lost Pages 317 : Diablo ~
“Pain is but an eternal cycle, a spiral of immortality…Who can save one from it?”
-Saga-
17th December, Year of the 11th Twilight Sky.
It was the beginning of the descent…
It was the beginning…to everything.
Our despair, our pains, our loss, our suffering, our darkness…even our hope.
It all began on that night.
Night of the Vergessenheit.
~Saga/Tiara~
A stampede of emotions and conflict born from bloodshed… That was what it was.
Countless knights from both sides, some as young as 10…some peaking even the 60s… woman, children, elders… people who should not be fighting… amidst the clash of power, born from the strength of a thousand knights, and the sound of clashing blades and shields…
A pitch of hardness, from the first clash of metallic sounds of the rushing stampede of spears and shields, amidst the thousands, almost simultaneous, like the first melody of the night.
“Hold your defenses! Balance the offensive and defensive fronts within 3 layers! Don’t let the enemy break through!”
Life never looked so small, and fragile.
Another sound, this time…low as the grounds crackle in anticipation…a sound of focused strength...a low, peaceful sound of weight being applied, a melody of 2 kinds…and with a fleeting second, the sound turned mellow with a sharp tune, as the skies are covered with a barrage of countless magical arrows, it’d almost cover the moon…
Accompanying was the fellow sound of cracks, and breaks… as shields, each individually small, and seemingly powerless, as a whole covers the entire earth from beyond what eyes can see, protecting the knights from the barrage of arrows…
A temporary silence following the ensuing exchange… Both sides were patient, pushing their games. Now…it was a test of true endurance.
“Load Cartridge!”
Under my orders, my knights, and similarly, the enemy’s as in a symphony of a march, without a split-second’s doubt, all boosted their weapons, with cartridges loaded as magical triangles scatter throughout the battlefield, almost a rainbow of colors on the night’s illuminated earth… The sound of it… the low sound of boosted cartridges, the falling sound of the metal core…and the blaze of thunderous clash that follows after…
A blaze of white… a multitude clash of energies fill the battlefield, it’s almost blinding.
In a way… this battle almost feels like an symphony… A musical symphony that honors the fallen of this war.
“Can all of you hear this, the knights who had passed on?”
It was uncharacteristic of me… but I feel that it’s only right to address it. Countless had died to see the end of the war, and here we are…at the beginning of it’s end.
Can you hear this?
This is the requiem by your fellow comrades.
A requiem to show to all of you… We are here now, at the pinnacle of the end.
Your deaths will not be in vain. Because today, it will end.