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scribblings
a bunch of bullshit written by a bullshit teenager with a bullshit hobby. tho it's not like I update that often
Prologue (( 0/? ))
a//n: ok so it's like 11:40 and Im going to be dead tomorrow so I only got like halfway proofing this it'll be more presentable by my next entry so pls hold on desu

aka LILY SHOULDN'T WRITE LATE AT NIGBT BUT HER MUSE IS A FCKING POECE OF s**t :3 c

--


Happy endings are for heroes.

Maybe, you think, that is why you and your brother failed so spectacularly. The thought comes to you when you should be thinking about something else, like checking the bodies around you to see if they still have lives that can be saved.

It sticks to your brain as you're shoved awake, even the flash of anger of not being left to sleep dull under a heavy mind.

You look around at the blood seeping into the ground, wondering dully for a moment if the crying you're hearing is a companion or a baby.

You wonder how your brother is doing. You hear the mass of somebody -- you're not really sure at this point who they are -- muttering something next to you.

"It's because happy endings are for heroes." You explain in a hoarse mutter you are only mildly surprised to find is your voice. They turn to give you a look, but you find you are too tired to explain further their exclusiveness to heroes and how logically, you cant't say they are for pairs of siblings. (Who are anything but heroes.)

Your name is Jun and ever since you were twelve years old you have known all of this. It was a revelation that you had when you were staring at your older brother's disappearing -- departing, leaving, going-on-a quest back. The dull feeling in your chest (it's loss, you think) goes along nicely with the uneasy shiver you give as you hear the village erupting into cheers.

When he leaves to become a hero, Nathan doesn't look back. When he leaves to become a hero, Nathan doesn't tell his little sister goodbye.

He's fourteen and the biggest jerk in your world.

---


On rare occasion do you and your brother ever get along. Such an occasion is usually when he is telling you a bedtime story.

Your favorite one is about the Old King, the one that ruled the land when it was old and there were things other than humans around, when magic wasn't a no-no word.

It starts off simple enough, with a little boy and a thirsty magical being. Nathan tells you, in all his fourteen year old rebellion, that it was a demon -- you learn that everyone else just calls it a 'magical being'.

"Like all magical beings ar-were the same," Nathan adds in with a huff before you snap at him and order him to move it along.

It's silly, really -- the poor little skinny boy gives the demon the water he had so painstakingly gotten from the well, and the demon gives him an immense power. "A bit much for a little drink." You comment offhandedly.

He ignores you but you can tell he agrees, because Nathan is the type of jerk who not only messes with the village crop lands but also voices his disagreements as loudly as possible.

The boy becomes the prince, and then he becomes the king. The people are happy, until the King gets greedy. Greedy enough to go insane, greedy enough that he constructs a group of seven generals and creates pacts with all of them -- pacts that make them practically immortal, and unpractically powerful.

They ruin the lands, run the different -- 'magical beings', Nathan croons mockingly -- extinct. The people rot and the king prospers. It is like that for a painful amount of time, until the people start a revolution.

They are lead by The Oracle -- the seven heroes, the seven leaders who reign during the present as the mysterious robed children who wear masks and show no skin. The last remaining Ancients that live in the kingdom and have been ruling since the Old King's fall.

"The ones that made magic illegal -- though really only the people that live near the capital care about that now. They're the ones that everyone has to pretend to like and revere because they're the only ones that /know/ enough magic that they can rule the land. They rule everyone by ignorance, not by wiseness or just-ness or whatever they say at the church." Nathan explains after making sure their grandmother isn't around to overhear him and whack him.

"You seem okay with saying what you want about them." You point out. He flashes excited grey eyes at you, this familiar mischievous grin spreading on his face.

"It's because we live so far out that they don't care about us, Jun. They don't think we're a threat."

"Why not?" You snap, rather indignant. As the serious little sister, you hate being underestimated. "They should be the most scared of us! All of them! The creepy old guys and the crazy oracle-butt-kisser church and the nobles that don't even /do/ anything!"

Nathan's eyes twinkle and it's one of the few moments that you think he's proud of you.

It's only when he's gone back to his own room that you realize he never gave you the ending. You pad across the small wooden house to reach your grandmother's room, recognizing it by the orange light seeping out through the crack of the doorway.

She's sewing, a surprisingly feminine task for a tough old woman who is teaching your brother how to fight. However when you crawl into her lap her hands are kind, and she strokes your hair as she explains the rest of the story to you, rocking back and forth.

The Oracle wins, your grandmother tells you. The king is banished under the ground and The Oracle begins to clean up his evil reign and begin their era of prosperity, starting off with the ban of magic and the deletion of most texts relating to it.

"The end." She whispers, hands slowing and beginning to still as you nod off.

Your only thought -- influenced by your brother, as most else is -- is how your grandmother said that only The Oracle won. What about the people? You want to ask, (because that is what your brother would have asked) but it is too late. You fall asleep. Peacefully.

You wake up and find it in yourself to complain to him about it the next morning, after your grandmother has ran you both into panting messes. He gives you a dry look, the kind that makes you think he thinks you're an idiot.

"That's because there isn't one," He wheezes out before you both jump at the sound of your grandmother's approaching footsteps.

Siyaahi
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