The Fairy Tale

In a world that has forgotten the battle between good and evil there has always laid the power to mend the sides. A power so great that it couldn’t be held in a simple object or be known to the human eye unless it appealed to a human. In fact any mortal soul who came across this power would be driven mad to the point of their own suicide. “What power would do such a thing?” one may ask, but it is not the fact that it is the power. It is how it uses the power. When something so powerful corrupts the power they have, they can create chaos in themselves. Thus, creating an imbalance in their thoughts, making their pure soul humane and legendary. They lash at themselves for every wrong they’ve done. They bash their pride and console it with charity they can never really clench.


In all of this is a soul, a soul so close to human yet so immortal that it is torn between life and death. They question their creator of all the battles and bloodshed their god has allowed them spilled, but never once questioning why they themselves slaughtered so many. After every battle, and every crusade, they never once threw down their sword and lived a life with blind faith and false hope. These fighters urged by their preachers to continue their fight to their journey to paradise and glory. A paradise so lost, so broken that it can never be real. From this derived heroes are created, truths turning into false unimaginable horrors, and the fairy tale has been born.