at the dawn of the night. sitting down surronded by the trees of life and love. there lays the dark rose.. darkened not by paint. nor by pain. but by the disease of those whom tried to impure it's pure soul.. there lays princess sevenyia. on a bed of flowers within her own small garden. she was supposed to be asleep by now. due to her health problems.. she grew weak. due to a failed ritual. her body was cursed with weakness by the grand angel.. as spread about her.. the soft light reflected by the moon bestowed upon her. making her already white skin shine with a beauty never seen and grace never been in a human before.. she picked up flowers gently. folded them into a boquete. that's when she noticed her knight. her protector..

"ah.. you are back. (she softly muttered) i apologize.. (she sighed) but i was too bored of this routine.."

then. she slowly got up. by the help of the stand that always was with her.. a long. thin stand. attached to it was the liquid that kept her body alive from collapsing. she waddled to you softly. not even able to walk..