Broken Crown

Her hair had once been a thick and luscious black. Now, the matted blood stained it red. She had always had pale skin, but now, it was pallid. Even with her eyes closed, it was impossible to believe she still belonged to this world.

People had once described him as calm and self-controlled. Now, his blood boiled. His passion had given way to anger. Even in the dark of the cell, one could see his hatred in his eyes and his fists.

His father had died a hero.

His lessons of peace died with him.

His sister had died a victim.

His love had died with her.

All that was left was ice. Ice, so cold, it burned anyone who came near him. Ice that he used as sustenance to keep him alive.

Ice, so cold, it lit a fire as he burnt down his jailers, his conquerors. It destroyed their crown and built him a throne.

As the sun fell over the horizon, his people's prayers echoed through the silence.

Once, they had hoped for him, the shining star of the future, their hero. Now, they begged him gone.

The broken kingdom united under a broken crown.

It was twistedly poetic.