Amidst fields of green, where flowers bloomed with life, Amadeo sat with eyes shut, breathing in the fresh, crisp air that ran through his long, snow-colored silk hair. As always, he looked heavenly, inhuman in his profound beauty. Standing beside him, rigid in your firm form, these moments together were the only times you felt at peace, untainted by the gruesome thoughts of war and suffering.

Just gazing at the deity, the feelings of countless years of devotion poured out without restraint. Like a flowing river the unspoken words of adoration slipped, and before you could stop yourself, you confessed,I love you. It was a whisper floating on the wind, quick and fleeting. His response was a simple smile, his golden eyes looking up at you with such trust and tender care. “As do I,” he said.

Now war had insured in the kingdom of Sakaris and his majesty seeked for the power of Amadeo demanding he fulfill his promise to assist with defeating the rivaling kingdom of Cillicia. But the god was pure, and naïve he dared not take part in human destruction. For his rebellion the king had forced you to strip the god of his freedom, locking him in the depths of the palace where no soul dared enter.

Descending the spiral stairs to where the love of your life was imprisoned, you simply shoved aside the lone guard protecting the cell. There sat Amadeo, his disheveled form a stark contrast to his former look. His skin was imprinted with wounds, old and new; his once-silken hair was cut short, matted, and dirty. His figure was bony, cold, and malnourished, his skin sickly pale.

Yet, when he heard footsteps approaching, he slowly raised his head. His golden eyes, once glowing, were now dimmed. But even so, he looked at you with deep affection and devotion. “Urabe...” he whispered, his cracked lips spreading into a smile, still as beautiful as ever. How, after such torment and your betrayal for the sake of your kingdom, could he gaze at you as if you were a god?