What springs on madness? What is madness? Is it the screams filling someone’s ears to the point where their mind snaps open; baring all the horrors of their nightmares into their conscious? There was something bittersweet about the notion of falling to one’s knees and giving up; staring into the face of polished death as it comes crashing down onto a tired skull. Maybe that is what insanity is, forsaking the ideology of survival instinct and giving up the struggle to live. The absence of emotion ties to anything, sapping away any remaining strength to fight against the ticking sands of time threatening to consume everyone.

Perhaps it is the lack of empathy towards another that sparks madness within a person’s soul, the dull lifeless reflection of a victim’s suffocating glazed over vision staring into the pits of emptiness of their attacker as they scratch and gag for mercy. A quick flex of strong fingers snapping their neck and watching them drop to the ground without a glimmer of remorse.

She wasn’t sure what she was doing anymore nor who the real enemies had become, all she knew was the beckoning call for her aid and the now lifeless form of the bandit under her boot. The battle had long been secured in her favour but the previous cries still rang in her blood soaked ears; drumming in beat with a thumping heart. Was the straggled man even one of the others that roamed across the farmlands; raping and pillaging everything in sight or was he simple male that reminded her so much of a force that has impacted her life so harshly that anything that even resembled the man she harboured a deep hatred for deserved to die?
This thought is what carried her piercing gaze over the foul smelling mangled bodies of everything she has killed in a single sweep of power. Were any of them so wrong they belonged rotting away in the dirt? Her own worth could be measured up and deemed it fitting for her to join their ranks in the land of the dead.

Countless battles have worn this once proud creature into nothing more than an embodiment of destruction, she remembered the first time she was accepted into the ranks of the Scions and how everyone referred to her as a being of purity and hope, now twisted into fear and distant trust whenever evil steps forth onto this land. This must be what it is like to be a beacon for salvation, something where dread and distaste can be battled against without any sympathy for the mind combating it.
This is what it must mean to truly be a warrior of light.

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Character name: Alice Madhatter
World: Zodiark
Prize : Chocobo Noble Barding