ONE CENTURY LATER:
I gasp. The sword plunges into my heart, the agony sets in, and I scream, collapsing to my knees. Tears slide down my face, as my cries are silenced by the shortness of my breath. The world spins, my vision fades, and I feel the cold embrace of the darkness.
I blink.
The wound is gone. The sword has vanished, but the agony remains. The despair still roams.
It's Elijah's death anniversary. I brought the tasteless wine to my lips and took a huge gulp. I always do this; although it never works. The wine never dulls the pain. As the years progressed, the throne got colder that now whenever I recline on it, I always wonder if it'd one day turn to ice. Through my lava-scorched black dress, I could feel the bite of it's coldness.
But I didn't mind. I was engulfed in my bit
