| Subject: Push |
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Date Posted: 11/ 7/04 11:27:47am Sun
Evening fell as a shroud over the city. It came slowly, dragged on as the city was cleansed of the corpses that lined the streets. An amassing pile of bodies was gathered outside the city, outside the forest. It was brought to beside the lake, human and Forgotten corpses piled over a small crate of kindling. There was no distinction over the bodies, nothing uncommon as they rested, and then were burned all the same. Funeral pyres lined the lake, lighting the sky with their light and filling the clear sky with their smoke. The lake, surrounded in a circle of fire, too many to count beyond the masses of bodies.
Aphrodite circled the lake, watching the fires. She was bandaged, wrapped in linens that would be taken off in a few days when she was fully healed. She didn't have the healing rate of her parent, but at least she wasn't as vulnerable as a true creature of nature. She'd experienced her first battle, and for her first, her tactics had been sloppy but effective. So she learned what did, and did not work, and how to make her actions faster, tighter, and more effective. Yet she feared the next test to this, and hoped it would not be for a long, long time. Her eyes strayed to the center of the lake, to the figure standing on the water.
Where his paws met the surface of the water, ice formed, creating solid steps on an unstable surface. Wyrd looked around, minding the safety of those here that paid their respects to the dead. The smell of cooking flesh filled the air and continually stirred him for more battle. But there was no foe to fight now, only the enemy of the unknown. Crimson eyes slowly closed, and the gold ones opened, seeing the world newly. His battle lust faded, and all he cared for at the moment was this peace, this unsteady, wary peace that filled the sky with red light. Flutes played along the night air, singing a song to honor the dead, and to mourn for them.
To this, Emi awoke. The gentle breath of music stirred her from the sleep her uncle had set her under, and she was unnoticing to all in the room as she made her way to the window. The flickering red light of fires barely passed the hem of the roof of trees. Over their tops she could see the lake, and the small points of light that emanated from them. They looked like fireflies from where she stood, and she was aware that something had happened while she had been sleeping. Then she turned, her uncle standing guard by the door, as well as Tyrsis. Her younger self still clung to her uncle's leg. They couldn't possibly be there just for her, and her eyes shifted toward the bed.
There lay Zenra, still unconscious; never have moved from where she had been lain. Darkness caked her beautiful hair, and Emi knew, without words, something had happened. The want for despair threatened to take hold of her again, and make all the work that Dawnsfire had done for naught. But as she stared at where her mother rested, she felt something akin to fire, albeit a small one, kindle within her. Against all odds her mother had fought, and her efforts brought her here, where she lay not dead, but still alive. She'd come here after fighting for something, and for something was what Emi would fight for too. Wallowing in this mess of selfish pity wasn't making anyone happy, or safe, and it wasn't making her feel any better. There was a small light of fire in her eyes as she tore her gaze from her mother toward Tyrsis and Seraph.
"Who did this?"
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