In the land of ruin
- Pronouns
- They/Them
[X] To find more about her heritage
- [X] Through meditation. If she could get more out of the Echoes of her mentor…
-----------------------------
A girl sat naked on a mountain of ashes. Her skin had already been pale, but had long since turned entirely white as the cinders bathed her. In the distance, she could see massive pillars, once glorious, falling down upon the weight of the ages to join the dust on the ground. Forgotten promises, faded memories and lost dreams. All fell down the same, no matter how big or small, to become one in desolation.
The girl herself was no exception, as it was not hair that crowned her head, but ashes too, floating down in the still air. A ceaseless motion in a world that was defined by the very end of things. Yet, for this movement above her, the girl herself was utterly still.
Her hazel eyes looked blindly in the distance. She had come here for a reason, certainly, but what had it been? There was nothing here but crumbling remnants and ashes. Ashes… The thought of ashes stayed in her mind. It was somehow important, linked to the reason she was here. Did she come to burn something, or on the contrary to sift through the desolation in the hope of finding something that hadn't been entirely consumed? Could something that wouldn't end up as cinders in the end even exist?
She stood. In the end, it mattered little what she came here to do. It wasn't by staying in place any longer that it would be achieved. Silently, she walked. Clouds of ashes formed at her every step, then her feet were once more drowned in the omnipresent ruin.
Instant and eternity intertwined and were choked under the weight of cinders. She had no idea how long she'd been walking when she stopped. In front of her stood yet another pillar. It was just as decrepit as the rest, but warmth radiated from it yet. She raised a hesitant hand and placed a palm upon it.
Ashes ran up her arm before the limb broke in pieces. The fragments then rose up under the girl's apathetic gaze to affix themselves to the pillar. Darkness filled her vision.
The road was deserted. Abandoned carts lined it up, alongside luggage that was too heavy or not that important now that one needed to go on foot. In the distance, there was a town. No doubt it had been prosperous in its time, but nowadays, the only person turning a profit had probably been the undertaker. And then, even his luck had turned.
Crows circled mass graves all around the town. Where once golden grain had grown, now the only thing rising from the earth were the restless dead.
"Stay close to me, Lirra."
A pair of travellers had arrived from the bend in the road. They were forming quite an odd pair, this old man and young girl, as their ashen hair blazed above their head.
"Do you think there will be survivors?" she asked.
"There always are," the man answered. "Doors strong enough, furniture heavy enough to block the windows, perhaps even a diamond to ward off the plague. Minds that can come back from seeing everything they knew turn like this, however..."
He left the rest unsaid as he continued walking, an old shovel helping him when his weight was on his crippled leg.
The ashen girl watched this exchange from further away. It'd only take a few steps to reach them if it hadn't all happened a year earlier. Despite her not knowing a single thing about this moment, she still knew how it was going to end.
The dead were stumbling near the gates, filling the main street up. Men, women, children, even animals were roaming the streets aimlessly. With so much death caused by the plague, there weren't any easy targets for their hunger. Some of the undead had been victims of those that died before them, but the large majority had swollen, black necks; the clear mark of a plague victim. The only life around were the many buzzing swarm of insects fly to and from their decrepit bodies, imbibing the rot of their malady to spread it even further.
Their stench was better left unsaid.
As soon as the travelers came close enough, they reacted, their heads snapping in their direction at once, before the started closing in as fast as their dessicated muscles allowed them to move. Yet, this time their targets weren't civilians running from the plague or looters with more avidity than common sense, but Keepers of Gray.
"Stay behind me."
Despite his lame leg, the older man stood tall before the tide of death that was closing in. He brought his knuckles to his lips as if to kiss them, whispered a single word and the flame on his hair and beard spread to his limbs and then his spade, before resolving in an incandescent blade. None of the dead came close to him, as he danced a ballet of death, large swathes of the horde turning to ashes as burning swipes finally gave them true rest.
From where she was, half a step away from the memory, the girl could see figures of ashes calmly walking to find their place in the embers that enveloped the Mentor. It was beautiful and happy thing, and yet sadness filled the girl, for she knew there was only one end to this scene.
There were only a few undead left now. The work of a single burning swipe, and yet, at the moment he was about to strike, the flames left the Mentor, as Lirra's hair burst in a massive flame for an instant, leaving him only with embers. The shovel bit deep in the neck of the first corpse, and its bloated neck exploded in a dark dusty cloud, covering the surprised man. Less than a second later, it burst in flames and joined the others in ashes, but it was too late. In the middle of a lake of cinders, the Mentor coughed twice, then turned to Lirra with a tired smile.
"I was almost afraid here for a moment, but it turned out alright."
Further in the ashes, the girl knew he was wrong.
It was a few weeks later, in an abandoned cabin in the woods. The sun had been shining, the girl remembered. The birds had been singing. The plague was over and the people rejoiced. She had hated them oh so much. Had wished upon them yet more death and suffering. She'd cursed their smiles and their pearls of laughter.
Lirra cried. She cried and cried and cursed the world. She cried and tried to put on a brave face as day after day, she tended in vain to her dying Mentor. She'd seen enough victims of the plague to know what these blots on his necks meant. The only thing she could do now was try and make his last few moments as comfortable as possible, for there was no cure, no way to save him.
He couldn't even talk now, even as he tried to console his daughter. He'd known for a while that his days were numbered, that his long, miserable life was soon to come to an end. After all, the same had happened to the one before him; a Gravedigger's power came into its own after their first Pyre, and there could ever only be one in a single line.
He'd just hoped it could have been longer. Lirra wasn't ready to be alone yet. She didn't deserve to be left alone.
And yet, instead of telling her that, telling her that she was and would always be loved, he only sputtered and gurgled as the illness gnawed at his lungs, and with that, the flame of his life faded into nothing.
He'd said it before: there always were survivors. He only hoped her body didn't just outlive her heart.
As he was Pyred, the girl - Lirra - fell down to her knees and wept in the ashen wastes.
Her hands gripped at the cinders on the ground and she punched it again and again. It did nothing. Not even a sound, not even a sting. Ashes swallowed everything. Forgotten promises, faded memories and lost dreams.
And yet, she felt arms around her shoulder and she could bury her face in a familiar chest.
"Father!" she wept. "I miss you! I miss you so much!"
The ashen figure didn't answer and simply kept on holding her, gently patting her back.
"Why did you leave me? Why did you have to die? Why did you go into these towns knowing you would die!?"
"It is our duty, Lirra," the voice came, gentle and sad. "Our duty and the punishment for our crime."
"What crime? Coming to life?!"
The Mentor didn't answer and simply continued hugging the crying girl.
And yet, she could sense there was a way to know. A way to fall deeper down into these ashen wastes, perhaps even drown until she touched the very bottom of these ruins, until she found the first of these crumbling pillars.
She would just need to leave more of her behind.
She felt her Mentor's arms holding her, keeping her safe.
She would just need to leave the comfort of the only family she ever had.
--------------------------------
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- [X] Through meditation. If she could get more out of the Echoes of her mentor…
-----------------------------
A girl sat naked on a mountain of ashes. Her skin had already been pale, but had long since turned entirely white as the cinders bathed her. In the distance, she could see massive pillars, once glorious, falling down upon the weight of the ages to join the dust on the ground. Forgotten promises, faded memories and lost dreams. All fell down the same, no matter how big or small, to become one in desolation.
The girl herself was no exception, as it was not hair that crowned her head, but ashes too, floating down in the still air. A ceaseless motion in a world that was defined by the very end of things. Yet, for this movement above her, the girl herself was utterly still.
Her hazel eyes looked blindly in the distance. She had come here for a reason, certainly, but what had it been? There was nothing here but crumbling remnants and ashes. Ashes… The thought of ashes stayed in her mind. It was somehow important, linked to the reason she was here. Did she come to burn something, or on the contrary to sift through the desolation in the hope of finding something that hadn't been entirely consumed? Could something that wouldn't end up as cinders in the end even exist?
She stood. In the end, it mattered little what she came here to do. It wasn't by staying in place any longer that it would be achieved. Silently, she walked. Clouds of ashes formed at her every step, then her feet were once more drowned in the omnipresent ruin.
Instant and eternity intertwined and were choked under the weight of cinders. She had no idea how long she'd been walking when she stopped. In front of her stood yet another pillar. It was just as decrepit as the rest, but warmth radiated from it yet. She raised a hesitant hand and placed a palm upon it.
Ashes ran up her arm before the limb broke in pieces. The fragments then rose up under the girl's apathetic gaze to affix themselves to the pillar. Darkness filled her vision.
The road was deserted. Abandoned carts lined it up, alongside luggage that was too heavy or not that important now that one needed to go on foot. In the distance, there was a town. No doubt it had been prosperous in its time, but nowadays, the only person turning a profit had probably been the undertaker. And then, even his luck had turned.
Crows circled mass graves all around the town. Where once golden grain had grown, now the only thing rising from the earth were the restless dead.
"Stay close to me, Lirra."
A pair of travellers had arrived from the bend in the road. They were forming quite an odd pair, this old man and young girl, as their ashen hair blazed above their head.
"Do you think there will be survivors?" she asked.
"There always are," the man answered. "Doors strong enough, furniture heavy enough to block the windows, perhaps even a diamond to ward off the plague. Minds that can come back from seeing everything they knew turn like this, however..."
He left the rest unsaid as he continued walking, an old shovel helping him when his weight was on his crippled leg.
The ashen girl watched this exchange from further away. It'd only take a few steps to reach them if it hadn't all happened a year earlier. Despite her not knowing a single thing about this moment, she still knew how it was going to end.
The dead were stumbling near the gates, filling the main street up. Men, women, children, even animals were roaming the streets aimlessly. With so much death caused by the plague, there weren't any easy targets for their hunger. Some of the undead had been victims of those that died before them, but the large majority had swollen, black necks; the clear mark of a plague victim. The only life around were the many buzzing swarm of insects fly to and from their decrepit bodies, imbibing the rot of their malady to spread it even further.
Their stench was better left unsaid.
As soon as the travelers came close enough, they reacted, their heads snapping in their direction at once, before the started closing in as fast as their dessicated muscles allowed them to move. Yet, this time their targets weren't civilians running from the plague or looters with more avidity than common sense, but Keepers of Gray.
"Stay behind me."
Despite his lame leg, the older man stood tall before the tide of death that was closing in. He brought his knuckles to his lips as if to kiss them, whispered a single word and the flame on his hair and beard spread to his limbs and then his spade, before resolving in an incandescent blade. None of the dead came close to him, as he danced a ballet of death, large swathes of the horde turning to ashes as burning swipes finally gave them true rest.
From where she was, half a step away from the memory, the girl could see figures of ashes calmly walking to find their place in the embers that enveloped the Mentor. It was beautiful and happy thing, and yet sadness filled the girl, for she knew there was only one end to this scene.
There were only a few undead left now. The work of a single burning swipe, and yet, at the moment he was about to strike, the flames left the Mentor, as Lirra's hair burst in a massive flame for an instant, leaving him only with embers. The shovel bit deep in the neck of the first corpse, and its bloated neck exploded in a dark dusty cloud, covering the surprised man. Less than a second later, it burst in flames and joined the others in ashes, but it was too late. In the middle of a lake of cinders, the Mentor coughed twice, then turned to Lirra with a tired smile.
"I was almost afraid here for a moment, but it turned out alright."
Further in the ashes, the girl knew he was wrong.
It was a few weeks later, in an abandoned cabin in the woods. The sun had been shining, the girl remembered. The birds had been singing. The plague was over and the people rejoiced. She had hated them oh so much. Had wished upon them yet more death and suffering. She'd cursed their smiles and their pearls of laughter.
Lirra cried. She cried and cried and cursed the world. She cried and tried to put on a brave face as day after day, she tended in vain to her dying Mentor. She'd seen enough victims of the plague to know what these blots on his necks meant. The only thing she could do now was try and make his last few moments as comfortable as possible, for there was no cure, no way to save him.
He couldn't even talk now, even as he tried to console his daughter. He'd known for a while that his days were numbered, that his long, miserable life was soon to come to an end. After all, the same had happened to the one before him; a Gravedigger's power came into its own after their first Pyre, and there could ever only be one in a single line.
He'd just hoped it could have been longer. Lirra wasn't ready to be alone yet. She didn't deserve to be left alone.
And yet, instead of telling her that, telling her that she was and would always be loved, he only sputtered and gurgled as the illness gnawed at his lungs, and with that, the flame of his life faded into nothing.
He'd said it before: there always were survivors. He only hoped her body didn't just outlive her heart.
As he was Pyred, the girl - Lirra - fell down to her knees and wept in the ashen wastes.
Her hands gripped at the cinders on the ground and she punched it again and again. It did nothing. Not even a sound, not even a sting. Ashes swallowed everything. Forgotten promises, faded memories and lost dreams.
And yet, she felt arms around her shoulder and she could bury her face in a familiar chest.
"Father!" she wept. "I miss you! I miss you so much!"
The ashen figure didn't answer and simply kept on holding her, gently patting her back.
"Why did you leave me? Why did you have to die? Why did you go into these towns knowing you would die!?"
"It is our duty, Lirra," the voice came, gentle and sad. "Our duty and the punishment for our crime."
"What crime? Coming to life?!"
The Mentor didn't answer and simply continued hugging the crying girl.
And yet, she could sense there was a way to know. A way to fall deeper down into these ashen wastes, perhaps even drown until she touched the very bottom of these ruins, until she found the first of these crumbling pillars.
She would just need to leave more of her behind.
She felt her Mentor's arms holding her, keeping her safe.
She would just need to leave the comfort of the only family she ever had.
--------------------------------
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