Work Text:
In a field in the high mountains, dandelions and daisies bloomed from the ground. Bees making themselves ever present as the constant sound of soft buzzing can be heard through fast winds and soft breezes.
Trees rustling as the wind rushed through them. Leaves parting from their roots and slowly drifting to the ground. The sun shined its golden rays, shade forming where it couldn’t hit beneath the clusters of leaves.
In the field were two brothers. One who wore jewels and a crown as if he were the ruler of a kingdom, and not a god who individuals feared. Red stained his dress shirt, matching the cape that hung on his frame.
The other brother who lie limp in the God's embrace. Blonde
hair stained with red, the same red mirrored on his face, his neck, his shirt, his stomach, his whimpering brother's hands. A small smile was painted on his face, devoid of the pain and the suffering and the loss that wars had brought. No longer needing to suffer the consequences of losing to the enemy that could not be beat.
Two brothers sat on the field. One still and content, forever grateful for the escape death was. Oblivious to the sorrow it had brought to others.
The other shivered, sobs racking his body. Forever mourning the loss of a brother he loved dearly.
Theatrical Masks are what one would compare them to.
Whilst one dies smiling, the other lived crying.