I mourned her for fifty days and fifty nights, hidden safe in the crypts of my castle where my people could not reach me. There was no purpose without her, no reason to continue. They would never listen to me. If I stayed, I would become yet another dead king, brutally slaughtered as I had done to my father. I thought I could’ve done better than him. Alas, the cruel gods shall not decree it so. I rise from her coffin-side, taking a moment to harden my heart and still my shaking breath. I could not return to the surface of my domed city, I could not once again face the people that had killed her in cold blood, that had cheered as I had killed others, that had tried to kill me. No. I had to find another way. I had to find an escape. Let my people destroy themselves, let them stage endless massacres until there are none left. That seems the safest option. They cannot leave, anyway. The city traps them, as it traps me. But not for long. I step through the swirling surface of the mirror, feeling the silver reform and solidify around me. A portal, hopefully to a world better than mine. Any world would be better than mine. I have entered a strange green land, lush and beautiful. These branching obelisks, the uneven emerald carpet- I have never seen anything like it, and it fills me with joy. A world this exquisite could not have horror, could not have guilt and fear and death. This shall be my new world, and of it, I shall not be its king.
