At long last, she stood before the throne forged of agony and hollow madness. Its form curved like the grand designs of fate, its surface etched with the serenity found only at death's crossroads.
It sang—a beautiful hymn that veiled its madness in a deceptive elegance, a beauty it should never have possessed.
It had no end, yet it seemed to fit her perfectly. At first, she had thought it was built for giants that dwarfed the skies, but now it felt no different from the star she had seen upon arriving, looming yet no greater than a singular dot, a paradox of existence that made her mind reeling in all things delirious. Speaking of the star—it was gone. Its looming presence had vanished, leaving behind a canvas of crimson darkness.
The land barren and cracked with bone ashes as the first layer of earth. She looked at the stretch of land before her and she seemed to her naïve self, stand where she had at the beginning, looking out at the field of bones and memories.
