Julia sat upon her throne, the barren lands that were her hive with only a few survivors left. The Sad queen without a Voice could only watch in silence as her home was taken away, torn apart, crushed, and ruined, leaving it all in shambles as she tried to pick up the pieces.
In the corner by her throne was an old dusted violin with faint chains draped across it, it was worn but very well taken care of, a gift from a friend long gone, a faded and grey photo laid against it that held a photo of a younger Julia and a pony.
A howling wind caressed through the empty halls, The changeling queen walked over to it, a foreleg held her chest and thin form, starved of love as she used what magic she had to gleam love from the object that was gifted, gritting her teeth in such an act, ruining the memory of her friend just to feed.
As she felt her reserves filling up, she felt her cheeks dampening from tears rolling down her eyes that was not under her control, a thought struck her, “What is a queen with no subjects, no friends…. No control?”
She levitated the violin up and blew off the dust, cleaning it as she went to the empty balcony that overlooked the cliff of her once full lands, but now ruins left to rot in the dust with the buried that lay.
The silent queen might not be able to see her subjects, nor be able to speak, but the hivemind always carries them, always keeps the dead alive, she sat back and closed her ancient eyes, and brought the memories of her people up and close, she coughed up a bit of blood as she forced her damaged voice to work, it slightly cracked as she began to sing a wordless song, the violin creaked and started playing to life as she put it under her chin, playing it with her magic while soft green orbs of fire appeared beside her.
They started following her tune, swaying around her, leaving trails of magic in the air, her cracking and damaged voice became smoother and smoother, more natural as she strained herself, still playing in the moonlight with Luna’s moon looking down at her. Seeming to be judging her before the moonlight let itself be free, the stars twinkled in tune to the music, or at least seemed to, she sang to her fallen, to her dead, to the survivors remaining among the ruins, to show that their queen was still there, still watching over them.
She continued to play the violin as a ghostly echoing flute started joining in, harmonizing with the ruined queen. Julia kept singing even though it hurt her, and would render her speechless for a long time to come. She would be there for her remaining people and Show that no one, not even the one who hurt her, will keep her down.
The flames shone brightly, you could almost hear the small echos of a happy Foal's laughter in the soft caress of the wind and in the burning balls of fire. The Sky's black hold on the stars seemed to fade away with each streak of white across the canvas that was the sky and moon, connecting the stars in ways only imagination can see, each little line crisscrossing the next, one after another, the trails slowly etching themselves among the stars and black canvas of the sky and moon, the foal's small happy laughter in the wind seemed to attract fireflies that danced around the flames.
It started to softly rain, the wind softly blew the dew out of nearby trees while carrying the small raindrops with it, seeming to make floating stars as they reflected the moonlights embrace around the queen and the floating balls of green flames swaying in tune with her somber singing.
the full round glowing moon was like a beacon in the sky, lighting every little aspect of the night sky, a minor wind blowing past her and the fires that lit up the dark area around her, the light echoed softly, as it rained, Julia cried in silence as she sang her soul out, the rain stained her form, sliding down and hiding the tears as she wept for her lost, for the forgotten and the ones laid to rest down below.
As she sang her wordless song,
She finished her song, still softly crying, and went glided off the balcony to give the survivors hope, even if she had none remaining…
For she knew people would be there for here
"A Tale once told, among the ashes that unfold.
The white rose covered in the cold, would hopefully raise to see the sun once more
Seeing the light that only awaits for it once it grows, unsteady from the ashes covering, but ending once the light began to mold.
The Light hopes the Rose won't go, won't leave, just so the rose can see the light is just waiting, it will remain, even if the Beautiful white rose is laid to rest, the sun hopes it will regain its strength and feel its warmth once more…
Even if that means knocking on death's door and bringing the rose back
I hope you are reading this, for no matter what, I care for you
I sincerely hope you will be there when I wake, for if not, I shall break...
For not once is a goodbye good enough for if one does not see another again, a farewell does no justice amongst the broken, for when leaving you to take the shards they have given you, hoping to wake and see you still there, not saying fare thee well, nor a wave goodbye, just waiting for a hi... as they lay in the field of thorned white roses...."
"For when someone falls, we hope you return, ever so quiet yet the loudest one sitting in silence, crying alone with tears not your own, one may sing a tune for thee, but very few will capture thine heart as thou did to thee"
Author's Note
This story was for a friend who nearly lost herself in a swirl of darkness - and hopefully not a memento for someone being lost to darkness
Please don't judge too harshly
