Pray For Your Mourners
Pray for Your Mourners
An excerpt from Ascension: The Lightning Children
“Fuck the heavens,” he muttered and gave me a deadly glare. I scoffed and turn my gaze to the rising sun. I didn’t bother to glimpse his painful stares boring into my bloody face or look at the bodies lying on the floor. It’s too bloody out here… too bloody to even stare at the sun… but I did, I have to.
It has been a week since the war broke out, again. Everyone has armed themselves with everything they have, and some were unlucky to live to lose some limbs. I wipe the red liquid pouring in my face from the forehead. My fingers swipe the metallic blood away from my vision redirecting it to my lips. I taste some of my own but I never had the luxury to keep on tasting my own wound. I am no wolf, nor cheetah to do those.
“We need to find a healer.” I heard him say, but I didn’t bother to look at him. I simply nod at his statement and continued to look at the rising sun. some smokes were forming on the horizon… a signal. A new battle has started in the east. I just hope it’s not as bloody as this. But war is war. Many will fall, many will die.
“We need to move, Athena,” he said again. This time his voice is filled with authority. Just like how kingly he is before. He’s been a palace for all of his life that even looking at war disgust him. Unlike his brothers, he is caged in this palace to rot with this throne and crown on his head. But even his haven can’t be safe, not in this era, not in this war.
“You go ahead,” I said, greeting my teeth. The wind blows to from the west, the smell of corpses and blood perfumed on the air… maybe the king of death is here to collect those poor souls now. Drake grabbed my arms, forcing me to look at his worn-out eyes and his blood-stained face.
“We need to go.”
“I can’t leave them here.”
My eyes glance at the corpse whose head was separated from his body, pouring red blood on the marbled floor all the way to our booted feet. I touched my face again, feeling my cheeks if there are any tears flowing. But there was none… only the blood from my forehead dripping towards the floor, mixing it with his blood, their blood.
“They’re dead,” he gasps. Glancing at those nameless faces for our enemy. But not for us, not for me. They are heroes, comrades. Men who sacrificed their lives to avenge those people who want to ruin us, our future, our children… our hope. “You’re a healer, a warrior, you can’t bring him back.”
“Don’t remind me about that,” I snarled, removing my body from his grasp. I bent my knees to take a closer look at the corpse in front of me. Memorizing his poor body is everything I can do. I picked up his head that rolled near the enemy’s body; few feet away from his own. His brown eyes were in a state of shock, his mouth is still open, perhaps he wants to tell me to run, leave him behind. Never look back. I cradled his head in my arms. Memorizing his features one last time before running my fingers to his eyelids… closing his eyes for good.
I then lay his head on beside his body, fixing it whole, like how he fixed me before. It’s like a puzzle, very complicated and challenging. He is a puzzle… but never to be complete again.
“I am sorry,” I sobbed.
“Vhiorne.” The man behind me whispered. He called his name for the first time. They have sworn enemies, not in ranks nor country but in belief and love. Brothers by blood, enemies by heart. Never to reunite never to make any more glares and dark desire to rip each other out.
“He’s never coming back, Drake,” I whispered, my mouth then pursed, trying to contain the sobs. I felt his palm on my shoulder gently patting it. A little comfort for my wounded heart and mind.
“I know,” he said and forced me to stand up. His rough and sturdy arms embraced me from behind as I cry to my heart’s content. Mourning for a lover I have and son to my parents. I can feel my energy weakens as I stood still beside his corpse… memorizing everything right now. Few memories washed in me even his voice lingers. His I love you nor his promises were never kept, and there was no way it will ever be kept, again.
“I will protect you from them, Tina.” His voice trembled as he embraces me tightly seconds before we got caught up fighting for our lives. I was down on killing every Vorsians who gets in my way. Just like how is down on killing anyone who tries to harm me. I closed my eyes as the painful memory washed through my system, in bedding in my heart.
“Athena!” He called as he rushed behind me. Arms on my waist pushing me forward to stumble as bullets rain from behind. He was caught up in to fight and surrounded by piercing metals to even call his fellow blood reapers to help him kill the handlers with their own blood. He is deadly but not as deadly as his executioners who are trying their best to leave him dry and holed.
“Vhiorne!” I called him. All he did was glance in my direction. Blood was in my hands… his own, my own, our enemies, our comrades. I clenched my fist and snatched the gun from our unit forger, Sandy.
“It’s not yet finished, A,” I heard her shout but I became deaf in an instant. My entire focus was on Vhiorne. Only to him, to his safety, to his enemy who’s mercilessly shooting him. A deep sighed escapes from my mouth as I pull the trigger with all my might, sending shards of Yxonian Glass towards the enemy. A cried as I make them fall back, killing them in an instant with just an aim.
The number decreases as I make no remorse on our enemy. But before I can completely kill them, a stonebone reached his place. A sword bathed with my comrades’ blood was in his clenched fist, I shivered as I remember their whimpers and scream before he decapitates them on the first floor. My blood pumps rapidly against my chest. Chills were sent on my spine. With a shift of afoot, I aim towards his, but I was a fool to believe that he can be killed with such a machine.
“Run!” I screamed to Vhiorne as I try to kill the beast that is more focused on his blood lust rather than his almost pierced skin. Fucking stonebone.
Suddenly… the world stopped when the stonebone grabbed his wounded legs. He tried limping against his sturdy arms. But the fucking executioner used his ability to crush those with his other hand.
“I love you,” he muttered, eyes on mine as a single tear left his eye.
“Vhiorne!” I screamed again. This time, everything is more painful, more emotions. I felt my throat scratched with the highest-pitched and the loudest scream I ever did. His eyes froze on me as his head rolls a dozen times before reaching the tip of another man’s boots. It stopped, froze in tracks. Times slows down and all I can see is red.
“You’re still thinking about him.”
“How could I ever forget him?” I say, clicking my tongue to stop a scowl threatening to burst out from my mouth as I converse with him. An heir to the throne we ought to kill, to slay, to a country we will slaughter for ages. He is a Santiago an enemy to the kingdom I protect, an insurgent, yet here he is, fighting against his own blood and soldiers just to win my father’s approval.
“He is a soldier, Athena,” he explained as slow as the time. He is careful with each word, trying his best to comfort me rather than sink the wrecked ship of my heart. Every word tastes bitter in his mouth just as how the blood of my enemies tastes like.
“Yet, he is also your brother, Drake,” I gasp, feeling every word on my tongue. Unlike Vhiorne, I am not careful with my words. Even the kings and lords of our land know me, and how my tongue works, neither of them reacts violently, neither of them opposes my tongue that was suppose to be cut by my father.
“I don’t accept any bastards,” he growled. Eyes focused on me. His golden eyes look at me with rage. He almost burns me even with his stare, he’s a true flamethrower, no doubt to that.
“I don’t need you here,” I answered. You know the prize you must pay with your actions.”
“Then leave, you don’t deserve me,” I argued, giving him a spit. It landed squared to his well-polished shoes that were cleaned hours ago after we left Little Lake, a castle in the western Rhadien, ruled by the Riskov, graveyard of my fellow Northerners, a death row of Vhiorne.
“Vhiorne,” I whispered. Tears are about to swell on my tears again. I glanced at the corpse lying on the floor at the farthest corner of the cart, where we chose to occupy. The sounds of the machine chugging on against the rails, keep things inaudible for most living cargo whose distance with each and everyone was about 6 feet away. It is a good indication of privacy and division of our blood, status, and houses.
“He’s never coming back,” Drake muttered, but it was enough to let me hear. His eyes traced the white linen that was covering his corpse too.
“He will be buried with my sister and my mother,” I say to no one. I am a general of my father’s will. A pawn and a knight to his board. A song ought to be forgotten if not played on the radio, and perhaps a film rotting in someone’s abandoned basement. But despite my low status, I was able to climb and be worthy of the crown. A crown I must wear, whether they want it or not.
Only Vhiorne loves me for what I am and for my ambition, but I guess even those died with him. My only goal now is to avenge his death and rise to the throne… be worthy of the crown forge by my forefathers for my mother that’s now gone. A throne, for his life and the life of many. A throne that will save my children and my people for what we all believe. Hail Tephra.
Vhox Iorale Nessus
brother and lover
warrior and savior
never to be forgotten… again
