the world had ended. not by a deafening explosion but by long, slowly cooling sighs.
"Hey, do you think I will be free one day""
asked Philla, a girl swinging her legs against the current on the water, one of them—the girls who would become sword fragments, who are only allowed to have feelings
I just stood there, slicing the apple and letting the circular skin fall onto the dusty wooden floor, There, under the gray sky, the monsters roared, roaring not from hunger but to warn the humans what their small existence meant.
"if i'm free do you want to go to the waterfall together"
The question that squeezes my heart, I know that there will be no day of freedom for those whose souls have been sold to the 'ancient sacred anvil', weapons must be sharp, they don't need waterfalls, sharp to smash to pieces,
In the afternoon when the smell of jasmine tea and sweet bread is refreshing, I prefer to lie.
"Of course, if you want I will find the fastest, highest waterfall so you can fly with your wings."
(chuckles) "you promised"
I know I'll deny it, she'll know if I deny it, but in this broken world a small lie is sometimes more valuable than a cold, frozen truth.