My short rift story named Hope

I played rift for months. I have enough rift gold. I never think too much about the RIFT Power Leveling. Recently I began to write story about the background.  
He was sitting on his Throne, staring out of the nearest massive window and onto the barren wasteland that was now his home until he drew his last breath. His heavy chin was resting on his palm, and the blued steel of the gauntlet was ripping his thin, pallid skin, just as the numerous spikes, ornaments and other unnecessarily grim decorations of the Throne pierced his heavy fur-coat and pressed his heavy armor against his sickly body. Armor he was not allowed, and have long lost an urge to take off. He squinted painfully.
Desperately willing to see a living being that was not Marked, but in vain. Not a single carrion bird flew across the skies, not a single hyena crawled out of its lair, not even a moth would break the heavy silence with flapping of its brittle wings. He was alone, trapped to overseer this twisted caricature of a land from his tomb of bone, glass and steel. The only companion that would forevermore remain faithful to him was his pain.
Slowly, his mouth stretched in a wry, cruel smile, and for each fraction of an inch he had to pay with a new crack on his lips tearing itself into existence, a tiny drip of thick, black blood oozing out of each - blood that seemed somehow to be dryer than the parchment-like skin itself. Pain was his blessing and his curse. It would not let him forget that he was still alive, and just what he was. (You know rift gold can’t help this)
Behind the visor of his helmet that left only the lower third of his face to be seen, was mercilessly chafing his neck and attempted to make him bow his head - something he had vowed he would never do as long as his heart was beating - his sore, glistening eyes closed for a brief second. Though he was denied true sleep - or True, the Last Sleep, for that matter - he still had these moments when he could pretend all this was just a bad dream, and that it would come to its end sooner or later.
This was as close to joy as he could possibly get now.
The tower shivered slightly. So slightly, in fact, that a humming-bird sitting on one of its roofs would have failed to noticed how the bones, the glass and the steel rub against each other. However, what was hidden from a little feathered creature was not left unregistered by him, for the tower and the man on its Throne were one. Thus it was written, thus it would be until the skies parted. Grudgingly, he opened his eyes again. Other than that, his pose remained unchanged, and for all those unaware of what was happening inside him, he was still fully concentrated on the dull scene behind the immaculate glass.
Hope you like this story. If you have lee time online playing you can buy rift gold to help you.

Read more:A background story of Haunting in the rift playing