❝ You still have kept your promise. ❞

[vogelbauer]

[Elisabeth had least expected to have seen him before her soul passed on: Märchen von Friedhof, the conductor of revenge. Or should she say März von Ludowing, her childhood love that had been tragically torn away from her what with his unfortunate and sudden murder. Despite the fact that her beloved was no longer present with her during her time on earth, her loyalty to him remained true and pure, and notwithstanding her flesh and impulses, she found herself staying committed to him, never allowing another to take the place of März. This had been the ultimate factor of her death; her brother, rather her self-proclaimed 'father', had been irate with her refusal to marry and ordered her execution by crucifixion. That was when she met him, proposing to her the chance for revenge, to which she refused. Seeing he fulfilled his promise... seeing his face, though obviously different from what she last recalled but yet still the same, was enough to make her happy to move on.

And so, she did. After embracing him for the last time, Elisabeth von Wettin, the crucified saint, had died.

When her eyes had reopened, she found herself in a brightly-lit place, presumably heaven. Or perhaps it was a purgatory of some sort so that she could atone for betraying providence. Needless to say, she wasn't exactly sure where she was, but she knew that she was no longer alive and on earth. Her spirit had passed on to this new realm where she would remain until she was allowed into heaven. Though, it was lonesome, to say the least. She could see no others present with her, almost as if she had been forced into solitude as punishment.

However, that's fine. The fond memories of her childhood with März replay freshly in her mind. She wonders if he's recalled them yet, if he finally remembers her and the relationship they shared together.

A question that she would most likely never receive an answer to.]

Comments

[marchenderdammerung]

[He hadn't know anything before the darkness, before he'd awoken in a well in the middle of the night, holding a doll in his arms. He couldn't remember why he was a conductor of revenge -- indeed, if there had even been a reason in the first place -- but through the years these questions, which had never been terribly important to him in the first place. Yet, there had always been a strange sensation of nostalgia troubling him, a vague memory that he simply couldn't grasp. Elise had told him to forget about it, many times, so he did. But that didn't mean it had ever gone away.

And then he met her. Elisabeth von Wettin, the crucified saint.

He'd felt something in him then, a tug of that painful nostalgia that had always haunted him, but he hadn't quite... Recognised her, not yet. But then she rejected his offer of revenge. She told him she had waited for him, that he had kept a promise that he could not even remember. But she had been happy, and held him before she died, a warm, loving embrace that he knew he'd felt before.

He did not remember everything, but he knew now. He knew her. He knew his mother. And shortly after that, he too, died.

When he next awoke, he was still stained in black, but he felt different, lighter somehow. This place was warm. It was bright. He did not know where he was, but he did not feel as burdened as he had when he had walked upon the earth. With Elise's broken remains cradled carefully in his arms, he walked.

And walked. And walked. And after walking for so long without a destination, he saw her.]

E... Elisa... beth...?

[vogelbauer]

[As soon as she hears someone address her, Elisabeth turns her head around to glimpse at them. It appeared she wasn't the only one here after all. Though, as soon as she sees exactly who it was that had called her, her eyes widen in surprise, and she slowly turns the rest of her body around so that she's facing the other directly.]

M... März...

[That's all she can bring herself to say apparently as she's stunned with disbelief by the fact that he's here. With her. At her side once more. Had she not known any better, she would have thought that this was a dream — though, was the dead even allowed to dream? Elisabeth shakes her head to break herself of her reverie as she takes a few steps towards him, her features expressionless as she simply stares at him. She stops right in front of him, that same deadpan expression still intact before it softens slightly when she speaks again.]

Y-You... Do you...

[She's unable to finish proposing her question, but it's obvious what she wishes to say: 'Do you remember?' Her gaze briefly lowers down to the mangled remnants of his doll companion that are cradled within his arms before rising up to meet Märchen's eyes once more.]