Princess Aslyn


Red flames brushed against her skin, causing her flesh to blister in the scorching heat. She rested on a bed of embers that gnawed away at her body. The room was smothered in red.

The shrill scream of her mother filled the smoke infused room.

All around her buildings were plummeting to the ground. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t get out. Her mind was flooded with thoughts of heaven and of death.

Oh how she wished that flood would wash away this room, smother the flames and ash.

The quicker the better. She thought as her fumbling hand seized the knife off the mantle. The dark blade glowed orange, sparking, resenting her touch. She straightented her arched back, submerging her head into the clouded, intoxicated air.

Her voice, raw and muted, spoke her final words, “It’s over,”

The dagger slipped into her chest, which fell for the last time.

She screamed, clinging to the linin sheets as if they were wings of an angle. Her body trimbled with exhaust, and she inhaled deeply, reassuring herself that it was only a dream.

Aslyn knew it was so much more.


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