Grip twice

I stare at the moon

My fist clenches, I remember it looking at us that starry night on which I was born, I remember it watching us as we sang and danced and quested below the ground, I remember it watching us as we drifted through the night.

I would take what I was owed from that eye, I took my first steps, the air held me, as things should be, it was one of my most recent conquests. He whispered a name I had been called many times before, many times when I ground countries down and made desperate limping victories, the word “tyrant” tickled where my ears once were and bounced around in my mind. Was I? The people once cheered as my armies marched into their city but now there are no more cities to take, am I a tyrant now?

As I leave the planet below there becomes less air to support me but there is less gravity to hold me down. Expel magic for thrust… I move towards the moon, closer and closer to finality. I hang in the sky on an invisible string.

I stare down.

All of this land is mine? Those cities? Those people? Those mountains and irradiated deserts and seas? He speaks “Thank you, thank you for all you have done, but your madness has to have limits.”

“It’s our only option.”

“We could-”

“Other options would cause more people to die, I am doing you and them a favor.”

“If only you did the same for your wives.”

I regret answering him. Fused skin itches, plating hurts, remaining bones ache, stone eyes always so cold, iron heart hums forever songs. I remember songs sung about me

‘Defiant to doubt

He had his hate and let it out

And so now under his heel

All will kneel! All will Kneel! All will kneel!’

He never wanted all of this, he wanted a quiet life, a life filled with golden days. But that life would have the 3 marks of shame, those being weakness, inaction, and foolishness. Just like back then and such a tragedy happened and so many other tragedies followed. He speaks again “I wish the world didn’t die.”

I am indifferent, the ended world allowed me to get a better grasp of power and Him, He should be thanking Perrik, He would have been forgotten once He died, but now I speak on the nature of this planet.

“Death is not the end.”

He heard my piece and remained silent as I continued my journey. Nothing can change my mind, I didn’t end the world, I was just making it unquestionable that a new age had arrived. That eye stared at me as I clenched my fists and I punched the moon.

The Moon shattered.

Who knew that was how the world would end? Not with the descent of the gods, not with something beyond the control of man but with something thoroughly within it. The first step of the world’s end was not the screaming of extinguished souls, but with the cries of a newborn child. He was normal for a while, he had his mother, father, sisters and brothers whom he all loved very much.

The world was in turmoil and the first to go was his father, that man fell from the sky and was not trusted by the superstitious people of the town he fell into, but he didn’t leave, it all felt too familiar to him, them and their god. Eventually he gained enough trust to marry one of the daughters of one of the town leaders. He went missing hunting down a mythic beast that killed many people from the town.

The loss of a father is never easy, but at that point his sons were grown enough to support the family, made easier due to the goodwill earned by their father. David learned the ancient arts of the village, they were a tough group of people who once stood against things that should not have been stood against and survived things that would be considered genocide, and they all did it with a smile. No wonder their father found another home with them.

Wollum was the one most similar to his father, both were never ones to settle for peace. For his father it was fighting greater and greater foes, for him it was hunts, he wanted to become ultimate. Swords, spears, shields, pikes, pole arms, bows, firearms, and even a little magic, he all wanted to be the best he could at them. Whatever the world threw at him he wanted to be ready, and be able to fight it on an equal playing ground.

Nate left for a large city, men with great knowledge of the way the world worked fell into theirs just like their father. Technology and magic along with it advanced at a rapid pace, disrupting what was there before. Cities were the centers of these innovations and Nate sought to learn as much as he could, he had to know, there were so many beautiful mysteries to the world.

What now attacked the old walls of the city he lived in could not be called beautiful. A walking wailing fortress, more wide than long, it walked through houses trampling the dwellings of hundreds. Thankfully it attacked from the opposite direction than from where Nathan lived. Everyone knew where it came from, shortly after the sky burned yesterday, and in the summer heat that blew over the wintered land they knew that tomorrow’s worry had been replaced with one today.

Evacuations to the center of the city were called, him and his roommate evacuated like everyone else into various public buildings. They were in the basement of a courthouse, it was a magewrought stone building. He heard the thumping of artillery going off, there was a cry. Was it a child? Was it the Wolenaught? There were more thumping booms, and there was a scream like tearing metal. There were more sounds like burning wind, more artillery booms, and at last silence.

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He returned to his house and started packing, if Wolenaughts were here then his village would soon face them if they hadn’t already. There would be survivors, Wollum’s presence kept mythic beasts from their village, David was knowledgeable he would know what to do, they would take care of his mother and sisters. Nathan was certain that at least some of them would come to Relnakel if he didn’t see them, at that moment he didn’t know in what way he would be right.

That evening he ran through the streets as he rushed to get the first tickets he could to his village. Newspapers had already started printing what was known about the Wolenaught giving rundowns of what was known about them, promising tomorrow’s copy would have more information.

The clerk at the train station informed Nate that tickets to the station near his home town were not available due to the Wolenaughts. He argued with the clerk, he needed to get home and help his family, the clerk kept holding his piece though. He could not control the trains. There were trains for a week later though, like that provided any consolation. Nate now had two options, walk there or wait, if he walked there it might take a week or more, then again the train might be delayed.

He considered the options, he had his own responsibilities here in Relnakel, he would wait, inform relevant people and take the train. The week passed in a blur, as he left the city he saw the broken corpse of the Wolenaught, its cannons were bent and broken, its armor was breached, its fire had gone out, and its mask frozen into an expression of joy. Local lords and other groups had sent forces to see what the Wolenaughts had wrought. The papers said that they were some of the only things that survived from the Tsar’s capital, the seeming origination point of whatever turned winter into summer.

He cursed the Tzar, his experiments caused this, his hubris had melted a once fertile land into a burning sea of glass. Nate prayed for the first time in a long time to the village god, that somehow everyone in the village survived.

The journey from the nearest train station was a couple day’s journey. He remembered walking it when he first left home with Wollum, he remembered where to camp, where to find water, where to find food, but he also brought preserved rations along with him. As he approached his village his anxiety grew. ‘Would they be worried I am there’ He thought. ‘They’ll probably ask what I’m doing.’ if he could be asked these questions he would consider himself lucky.

But no, there was only broken beams, melted obsidian walls and sterile ash-dirt where once stood homes. Nate walked through what once was a street whispering under his breath the names of the houses. Nate remembered playing with one of the Tolodan children when he was still a child. He remembered when the Brefson’s were building a new home, and him and the other boys of the village came to help. He remembered the major mage family in the town the Queldans, they were quite odd and not the nicest of people, at first they didn’t really want to teach David, but they did, and when worst came to worst such as with the Beskor, they fought how they could, they tracked it and with that knowledge, Nate’s father disappeared along with the monster. They were all gone now, he felt like he was going to vomit.

There weren’t any bodies, where were they? Nate checked the center of the town, a park with something that was a mix of tomb and monument. Somehow it escaped destruction, trees still stood and it appeared untouched. The trees were planted in a shrine circle as a sort of living palisade. Nate remembered David came here frequently to study, the air inside was musty, the stone construction of the building had few cracks, in fact it was surprisingly smooth. He entered one of the rooms within the tomb filled to the brim with books, many of them being the Records of the townsfolk and he gingerly took one of the non-Record books off of the shelf, and opened it to a random page, he noticed his arm was shaking. It had diagrams overlaid upon a human body and writing in some script he couldn’t understand. Nate placed the book back and went deeper into the tomb to where the village founder was laid to rest.

He saw the odd coffin of the founder, the wood was thin, it looked as if it could be closed and opened with the strength of only one person. There were latches on the corners of it, they were closed locking the coffin’s lid on. There was a chest in the back of the room. Something was in there with him, Nate whirled around and saw a skeleton, it looked as if the meat was picked clean off of it.

‘Who the hell is this? Is this a villager or an outsider? If this is the founder, why would it be picked clean and outside of the coffin?’

Nate stared into the empty eye sockets, trying to remember if anyone he knew had that height and shape of face. After staring for a while he couldn’t recognize them as someone he once knew.

‘They need a proper burial’

Nate found a shovel in one of the broken houses and started to dig a grave outside for the skeleton. After a couple hours of work, the grave seemed ready. Nate placed the bones of the dead person within the grave in the proper order, and said a prayer to the village’s god, Zoyalo. As assumedly an insider, the skeleton would have wanted to have the prayer said. Nate continued looking around. Few valuables were left in the homes, and Nate debated whether to take what was left of them with him.

‘They did leave them behind, so I should wait for them to return, but they might not.’ In the end he decided to try and find the tracks of everyone. Did they die? Did they leave? Where were they?

He searched the town and the roads leading in and out of the village. It was just a bit over a week ago in the middle of winter and it hadn’t rained since. There luckily was something! The tracks of heavy animals led into the half trampled half burned woods and Nate followed them.

He never expected to find what he did. Near the road that one would arrive to the clearing though, there was a rectangle of stone, investigating the rectangle, it turned out to be a box, inside there was a hand bound book with “For Nate” on the cover. Flipping it open to the first page was a letter from David.

Nate, I am sorry for what lies before you. Me and the other villages trusted in

Zoyalo and the pact he made with us to protect us. I know you aren’t much

of a believer, but we made this choice ourselves. We will return one day so

keep an eye out brother, I will rise again, and I’d have made our father proud.

Please leave everything in the village, when we arise we will need everything we

can get our hands on, valuables, armor, and especially knowledge. If you

could, please write down what you know about the outside world.

Thank you brother, I am sorry I couldn’t do more for us all but I won’t regret

diving under the waves. -David

In the same book there were other letters, all from different people from the village. His mother wished him well and wished he could somehow live a normal life, she regretted not being awake for when her husband would return. Wollum decided to go along with their crazy plan, they would need protection wherever they went. There were also other letters from other townspeople, one of the now grown Tolodan children reminisced on the times that once were and have long since passed, the Queldans asked if Nate could please hold onto the village traditions. Other villagers wished Nate well.

Nate closed the book and he lay down where he stood. He gazed into the distance with glazed eyes, everyone he grew up with was dead, every last one of them. All because they trusted in their god. He got up, he had to get closure, he didn’t want to be left hanging like with his father again.

In a very large clearing on the side of the road there were all of them, he saw places for everyone in the village. Everyone was sleeping in eternity’s earthen beds. Everyone, the men, the women, the children, and the animals. Every last living thing in the village had a space and an unmarked grave.

He was prepared mentally for it but… there was just so much, all of them, all of them, ALL OF THEM DIED BECAUSE OF THEIR FAITH IN AN UNCARING GOD.