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--- readable:saga:servant.of.death:i [2025/10/18 15:16] – external edit 127.0.0.1
+++ readable:saga:servant.of.death:i [2025/10/27 20:19] (current) – [1-5] anadmin
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 ====== I. Twirling in Fallen Bloom ======
+----
 ==== 1-1 ====
+I see a sword that grants death,\\
+A shackle of destiny,
+Next to the silver-haired girl,\\
+Worshiped at the demise's hallow.
+The sword stained with unknown blood, lying shattered and snapped.\\
+The shackle chained pale wrists, dotted in thickening rust.
+The priest asks with a shaking voice —\\
+//<color #efe4B0>Upon whose fingertips will the butterfly perch?</color>//
+The girl never answers,\\
+Like <color #993333>death</color> itself, wreathed in silent solemnity.
 ----
 ==== 1-2 ====
+{{ :readable:saga:servant.of.death:castorice1-2.png?200|}}
+People often say that,\\
+Dying is to meet the palm of the Hand of Shadow,\\
+And dreaming is to be brushed by their fingers a little.
+In the mirages when the girl petted death,\\
+She sees black waterfalls foaming and bellow.
+Pouring down from a chasm in the sky,\\
+Where a solitary tower withstands torrents sallow.
+When she wakes, she can still feel the water's freezing touch,\\
+And the cacophony's billow —
+Like the wail of the dead, the howl of beasts,\\
+In confusion, delirium, and clamors hollow.
 ----
 ==== 1-3 ====
+{{ :readable:saga:servant.of.death:castorice1-3a.png?200|}}
+The girl's embrace is not meant for the living.\\
+Thousands have entered the eternal sleep in her arms,\\
+Granting to the dead solace and dignity.
+She mentions a ferocious warrior, feared in battle...\\
+//<color #993333>"She did not go with a smile, but to me, she cursed —"</color>//
+//<color #993333>"O, life's end! How ugly you are! How despicable!"</color>//[(Spoken by Castorice.)]
+{{ :readable:saga:servant.of.death:castorice1-3b.png?200|}}
+And from that day on, she adorned herself.\\
+Her dress, white as a radiant moon,\\
+Became always dotted with flowery petals.
+//<color #993333>"For if death cannot be avoided..."</color>//\\
+So says the girl,\\
+//<color #993333>"I wish it could contain beauty more plentiful."</color>//
 ----
 ==== 1-4 ====
+Among the thousand ceremonies in life and death,\\
+The ones she knows with most intimacy are funerals.
+One burial after another she presided over,\\
+From the angelic visage of a babe passed in the cradle,\\
+To the despairing eyes of the mother drowning in sorrow.
+From the scars on a war-battered general's torso,\\
+To the unending tears pouring from his bereft widow.
+Yet she remembers not a single living human she had seen,\\
+Even in the mirror, she thinks her own face strange, with an alien glow.
+In the countless words buried in forgetfulness,\\
+The only thing she manages to gleam is a mockery to fate, a sarcastic whistle —
+//<color #993333>"Stay alive."</color>//
 ----
 ==== 1-5 ====
+{{ :readable:saga:servant.of.death:castorice1-5.png?200|}}
+When she cast aside the shackles and stepped beyond Aidonia,\\
+a déjà vu most violent seizes her whole.\\
+Did she, perchance, conduct some previous escape?
+Illusions dance across her eyes —
+She had once drifted in an endless river,\\
+Then drove her single boat out of the deluge.
+She had wandered in the battlefield covered in corpses,\\
+Then recovered the path back to life.
+Why must she escape? Over and over again?\\
+She now knows the answer and quivers, for it is a ludicrous surmise —
+The woman embodying death walks this world,\\
+Only because she knows she <color #993333>must stay alive</color>.
+But alas —\\
+At the time, she knows not,
+That death is not the end.\\
+It is only a butterfly landing on a withered branch.\\
+<color #993333>Utterly meaningless. Profoundly trite.</color>