The Lament Of The Priestess

The Priestess was sitting on the cold ground of the dimly lit room. The window to the outside showed beautiful scenery, yet she could not see — not anymore. She lost her sight a long time ago. Those eyes that once admired nature in a carefree manner were now forced to never see anything else other than darkness. She was singing a quiet melody in a soft but weakened tone as she was tending to decaying flowers that adorned the ground and the walls. Despite her inability to see, she knew and remembered their forms. The beautiful form of roses is delicate and majestic. She heard the sound of faint steps approaching her with uncertainty before coming to a stop. The individual was right behind her, and she knew very well who it was.
"Why do you continue singing? Your lullaby will not piece back together what was lost. It is utterly irrational for you to continue." Their voice was cold and piercing, a shadow of what it once was. The whispers were now replaced by empty words.
The Priestess lowered her head while hearing them speak. "I sing not because I have hope. I sing to lament about what I have lost. Those who were corrupted, those who were hurt, and the betrayal that broke everything that we knew. I sing as the pain swallows me whole. You were one of those that I lost to these terrible events." Her tone drops. Pain begins to accumulate in her chest because of the memories and because of who was standing in front of her. Her once beloved, now unrecognisable version of them, lost themselves.
"Your weakness and inability to move on from the events will get you killed one day. You won't ever achieve strength if you mourn for each loss. You have to forget about what was in the past, forget about what you once felt, forget about what you once had. That is the way to achieve numbness and freedom from pain." The spectral creature of mist and knowledge was now a mere centimeters away. She felt their cold aura and their distanced breath, the palms of their hands covering her useless eyes.
"I cannot forget what I have lost. I cannot forget what happened to Y'liad, I cannot forget the cruelty and manipulation of Hubris that fooled The Keymaster...it was right there, and I couldn't do anything. If I was more careful I could have prevented this. Not even my healing powers could fix what was broken, not even my words were useful. I was like a mere decoration observing as everything spiraled, being utterly helpless. I couldn't protect anyone..."
The figure stood in place, merely caressing her face with their palm, a subtle hint of what was left of them before it was all gone once again. The cold but reassuring touch was gone. "There was nothing you could have done because you are not an all-knowing being. Once the future has been decided, there is no way to modify it. You will always live in regret, always live with the knowledge that you could not save a single soul, and that is the end of it. You were never strong enough to forget, and you will never be. You are weak, Priestess. A weak dove that must remain in its cage to preserve itself. A weak dove that sings about its broken wings until it dies miserably. So continue singing, little dove, Mourn, and shed your tears. Perhaps those you cherish will come to you and tend to you. Or perhaps one day, you will lose them too, and you will remain utterly alone."
The Priestess closed her eyes. Her warm tears were dripping on her hands, yet she remained silent. There was nothing she could say that could make her beloved return back to normal, and perhaps they were right. She would continue her pitiful lament, as she is unable to stop the pain. 
Why did everything have to collapse? Why did things turn out this way? She only desired to return to those simple times, where every court member was together in harmony, where she would play her harp for the others to listen to.
Y'liad would stay behind the trees, not wanting to be seen out of fear to frighten others, yet she would always invite him to stay. 
Claudius would cross his arms and lean against a nearby wall, yet she could always tell that the songs were soothing him.
The Keymaster would perhaps roll his eyes, or make a sly comment about her playful act, yet seeing him quietly listen always made her feel more confident and ready.
Nunca then would join in with his tricks and playful attitude, giving the Priestess the reassurance and support she needed through laughter. Everyone would end up laughing.
Even if most of the others preferred to watch from afar, it was perfect for her, and she was happy. She was happy because she had no worries, she was safe and carefree.
There were times when everyone stayed in a beautiful garden of flowers, where the Priestess would pick all the petals of each one, and then she would make a crown out of those she liked the most.
----
The more the Priestess remembered those peaceful times, the more she would be haunted by the painful guilt. The tarnished Crown, the battle against Hubris, the loss of many she cared for, the corruption that took away those she cherished the most...and the inability to free herself from those chains that dragged her back to her regret. She embraced herself, and as the room darkened, the only noise present was the sound of her pitiful weeping. Her tears fell on the ground, and she could only mutter apologies and suffer.
The dove will continue to sing in the cage fabricated by its tears and pain, singing until it may become exhausted, only to sing once more in what could be an infinite cycle.
The dove did not forget about its broken wings. It is simply unable to do anything else but sing because a dove is too weak to forget.
The Lament of the Priestess continues like an infinite song.
Category:Tales
Category:The Royal Court
Category:Philia