#Writing #BloodofSilenceSeries #DanceTillOurEnd #DTOE
The sight that greeted me upon my arrival in my home town of Kynthos was one straight out of a horror novel.
It was the kind one could barely begin to imagine, even in the deepest, darkest, and loneliest of nights.
The fear, and the dread. The sorrow and despair.
These feelings described in only the most ancient of books--whose drowning embrace I now realised I'd only scratched the surface of in my many travels.
What greeted me was a sight of desolation, and though I had seen many a sight before, this one struck entirely different. There were people here. Were.
For every step I took, another dozen bodies littered the ground--each mangled and charred in entirely new ways.
The fires burned, the buildings crumbled, and the soil was drenched in blood as deep and crimson as the foreboding skies above.
Nightmarish creatures patrolled in numbers I couldn't hope to match without drawing too much attention, and so I pulled up my cowl and snaked through the shadows.
Survivors. There had to be survivors somewhere, and I was determined to find them before all else.
The further I got, however, the more hopeless it seemed, and upon arriving at my childhood home, I found myself petrified of what I might find within.
There was a cough. Gentle, and barely audible, but the first sign of life I'd heard, and so I rushed inside.
In a corner sat my mother, covered in ash, and leaning weakly against the wall as if she had not the strength left to hold herself up.
"Cynthia," she whispered, struggling to keep her eyes open. "My daughter... So good it is to see you again."
She coughed again, and I ran to her side. "Mum! Just hold on. I'll take you with me to Amaurot and--"
She shook her head gently, reaching out a feeble hand to stroke my cheek and loosen my mask. "So beautiful, that face of yours," she smiled, but it was a fleeting thing, and I felt the tears pooling in my eyes.
"Now listen to me, and listen well. No matter what happens, you mustn't let fear into your heart. They feed on it--those creatures. What few of us remain...Athens has taken them. You must find him."
"What about father? Is he with them?"
She stared down silently at the ground before shaking her head once more. "No, and I intend to join him soon enough. Hence why I elected to stay behind. We promised to return together, after all..."
It was not my place to deny her that, if it's what she truly wanted, but...
"Come now, do not give me that face. If you are to save them, you must have your most brilliant of smiles ready to greet them. And one day, when you are ready to join me, I should like to see that smile again for myself."
I couldn't help the sob that escaped as I nodded, gripping her hand as hard as I could, as if it would somehow forestall the inevitable.
There was a roar outside that jerked my head instinctively away. Time was running out.
"Go on, my little sunshine. If anyone can save them, it is you."
Tears streamed my face as I hugged her for the last time. Desperate, as if she'd disappear any moment.
Only when the light faded from her eyes--a smile on her lips--did I leave her. Determined to protect her to the last. Oh, how she would have laughed at that. At how predictable I was.
Of the three of us, my brother Athens had been the only one to stay behind, while myself and Altheia left to pursue greater things in Amaurot.
The two of them were twins--myself being the youngest of us all--though they couldn't be any more different from each other.
As always, Athens wore his blonde hair in a braid reaching just beyond his hips; much like mother had done.
He was a kind soul, drawn to children and animals as easy as breathing. Often would he find himself in Elpis, or teaching children myriad things about the world as they looked on in awe.
He was never particularly fond of Amaurot and its towering spires and endless regulations. He preferred the freedom of a simple farmers' life, with all its tediousness and traditional ways.
In his years cultivating the region's finest crops, he had become quite the vigneron as well. Many a time would us sisters find a new creation of his on our doorstep, ripe for the tasting.
Even Hades, for all his grumbling about "needless indulgences," would begrudgingly take a sip of Athens' creations. He would never admit it of course, but the slight tilt on his lips never escaped me.
That was something worth protecting. Something I had protected not so long ago, when a volcano threatened to destroy it all.
And yet, the star seemed intent on destroying it anyway.
So strange it was, I had thought. Not all that long ago had I been here, and naught had seemed amiss. Whence did the stars fall? Never had I seen a natural phenomenon such as this.
As we piled refugees upon familiars bound for Amaurot, I spied the rotting crops and withering trees. Creatures lay motionless, and the waters turned black with filth and poison.
It was as if the star itself was dying, or infected with some festering disease. It was a sight not soon forgotten; one that would haunt me for the rest of my days.
Outside that evidently small part of the star, however, all was still. All was as it had always been, as the stars glimmered in the sky, shining their gentle light on the land full of life below.
I breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever this strange phenomenon was, it seemed to be isolated.
When at last we arrived in Amaurot, it was well into the late hours of the afternoon the next day. Having been unable to employ any speed or teleportation magicks due to the condition of the passengers, we'd had no choice but to fly them there ourselves.
Some of them had family to stay with, while others required arrangements be made for lodgings. The Convocation were happy to accommodate of course.
For all their insistence made at nonintervention, the people of Amaurot had always welcomed those from near and far with open arms, no matter the circumstance.
It was the orphaned children I worried for, though Athens assured me all would be taken care of.
That night, I simply laid in bed, silent. For what was there to say? What was there to do? How could I possible begin to comprehend any of it, let alone explain?
"No sooner did you drop refugees on our doorstep than I find you conspicuously absent from the chaos. And here you are, sulking."
For once, I had no witty response, nor was I in the mood to tolerate him. And so I kept my silence.
He sighed. "It must have been quite the trip indeed to silence you of all people."
When I removed my tear-stained face from the pillow to glare at him, his lips parted in surprise.
His face hardened, along with his tone. Stern, and demanding of answers, but as much for my benefit as his. "What happened out there, Cynthia?"
I sat up properly as he came to sit by my side. Staring down at my hands, my voice was feeble and quiet. "Surely Athens would have told you already..."
"In bits and pieces, yes, but he is no Azem."
I sighed, trying to still the quivering of my lip as I struggle to find the words. "They're...they're all..."
A gentle, soothing hand came to draw calming circles on my palm. It was kind and patient as I breathed in and out, taking the moment to compose myself.
"They're dead." It was barely even a whisper, the words I uttered, yet they stilled the room all the same. "The ones we brought here... They're all that's left."
Once a remote but bustling population of around 200 people, withered down to mere dozens. Not even half remained. Such a loss of life was unprecedented.
We have always been able to predict even the most devastating of disasters, and evacuate populations months in advance to allow nature to run its course.
An event such as this had not happened in what must have been thousands upon thousands of years. Certainly preceding any of our lifetimes.
"Dead?" he muttered. "You mean..."
"Returned to the star, yes. But not of their own will."
"And your parents?"
The silence spoke for itself, and I soon found myself engulfed in his embrace. He held me as I cried, and throughout the entire night he was never far.
In the early hours of the morning, when I finally ran out of tears and drifted off out of exhaustion, he was still by my side.
For all his grumbling and acts of disinterest, you'd be hard pressed to find one more compassionate than he in times of need.
He was like a giant teddy bear covered in retractable spikes. It was one of my favourite things about him.