Empress of the Night

The vast land laid bare against the scorching sunlight. Within the diameter of 1000 miles, there was no life save for an ancient, withered soul.

It was as if she had been here since the beginning of time. Around the ruins she wandered, her wilted lips continuously mumbling some eerie tune that sounded too good not to be a chanting of prayers. Prayers for whom? For the deceased trapped under the rubble or embedded into the collapsed walls, perhaps.

It was said and believed by many that the ruins were the remnants of once a magnificent empire. But that had been before the sky rained fire, the earth quaked and hideous creatures rose from the Inferno to engulf the empire in the blood of innocent souls. And the old woman had been there to witness them all, when she still had had her eyes.

Where her eyes had been were two empty holes so deep, so dark that they seemed to speak of the fathomless depth of abyss. What had caused her sight to be forever lost, no one knew. But occasionally, those who drove past the ruins and happened to catch her sight would notice two streams of bright red fluid pouring down from the barren sockets.

None dared speak to her. Her presence which was so akin to that of a vengeful spirit was enough to terrify even the bravest ones.

Her bizarre tune faded in nightfall, replaced by a profound silence. Under the sun, the ruins slept peacefully beneath her feet. When the last ray burnt out at the horizon, the empire sprung to life. Within a moment, there was not a trace of remnants left; what stood in the desert night was the most prosperous empire to ever exist on Earth.

And the wilted woman, where was she now? Was she still wandering like a lost soul?

There were no lost souls here, only people dressed in silk and velvet streaming in every directions. The withered woman was sitting on the highest dais. Clad in gold and gems, she wore a crown of diamond on her head as she watched her empire prosper under her reign. In her ravishing eyes, there was no place for sadness or despair, only a vivid pride.

Her pride died when the sky rained fire, when her dais collapsed and when Hell’s children came to devour her own beloved ones.

She collapsed among the sea of flesh and blood. Her gorgeous eyes bled in witnessing the horror which was called divine retribution. With a heart-wrenching  cry, she tore out her eyes to prevent herself from their further torments.

When the first light arrived, her empire retreated to its slumber, leaving her the only life here. Too used to the tragedy that lasted for eternity, the empress once again rose to her feet and began her routine.

Would her torture ever cease, none could answer; neither would they know the true meaning of her fateful night’s repetition. However, until the time came when whatever force had condemned her to this endless damnable existence decided to pardon her, she would continue on with her lament for her lost empire:

Empress of the Night

Fire from sky

Burnt her sight

Blades from earth

Tore her heart

Empress of the empire

Condemned for life

To watch her empire

Forever on fire

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