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You hum to the melody you have in your head since you’ve found the crystal stones in the painted black hall.
It’s something you never told anyone, never considered showing but to one person, who turned out already knew quite well how legends lines goes.
It’s alright, he didn’t know it all. You never could have told it to someone that would rise so fast and have them believe you in the end, not when every single wish of his was coming to the surface and taking form in everyone’s eyes at such a fast pace.
But the song in your head, the luminous ways of the black hall you found so carelessly and the amount of crystals you had in your possession could never quite leave you.
Your younger brother loved the melody and it made a good lullaby song when nights got too cold, the wind too loud and the aggressiveness of their life would come back.
You didn’t really mind, when you were honest with yourself you could admit it, you liked that a part no one knew of you could soothe such a precious being your sibling was
growing to be.
In your head, having the whole realm hate you was alright and never crossed you to have it twisted differently, have the words call out to you and change the pace everything was going.
You were fine. Your people were fine. Your brother was growing strong, never having faced poverty, hunger or lack of safety and care. He was so well loved you could only gather enough power on yourself to make sure that nothing would ever cross his way and break his spirit as they have attempted to break yours so many times and, without knowing, had taken more than they could think possible and never be made aware — for everyone's safety sake.
It would have driven you mad if they were to have you on the pedestal they had him now. You had once considered that having him go mad would be fun.
The worth of the throne, the weight of a crown. The lives you free for the imprisonment of your own. Madness at its purest form.
You are selfish. No one would deny it, no matter how many reboots you’ve heard of some under you calling you kind.
You saved a few that were under the injustice of many and almost started a war. You were totally fine on winning over the heads, lives, and wealth of so many.
You rejoiced on making so many people fear you and have you left alone along with whom would really stand by you, but no rejoice you found on him up there, on a place he could fit so well but also so wrongly; feeling so small on a sit made too big, having too much and feeling more out of himself than ever. So afloat but too grounded to be nothing more than a puppet under strings held too tight.
He would survive, when you definitely couldn’t.
You would have toppled everything, started anew with a slate no more clean than of the ones you would’ve eradicated but you would have prospered for long.
It just wasn’t worth it, was it?
It wasn’t.
You have your own kind now. Your own family, that follows, fights and embraces you as one of them, because you are, and you would destroy the whole world for them, for him, if they so asked — they don’t. They are less selfish than you and, more importantly, they have more kindness than the so-called righteous ones had for them.
Never mind you can draw the power of the crystals, that you can cross the blackness and you can call upon the ones you wish protections never seen before.
They chose who they wanted you to be and for that they have waves of the tasteless wine they groomed from fruits not enough watered, the food not that good on the tongue and cold that bites and crawls upon their skins that doesn’t have warm enough clothes to cover their entire beings.
The hunters found themselves being the prey in their own wild game and that's a good enough price to pay for survival, if you say so yourself.