"Like a whisper to the dusk
An oath against the shadows, denying the dark
fight fight fight 'til the break of dawn
Like a prayer unto the dawn
In arms against the shadows, destroying the dark
fight fight fight 'til the break of dawn"
-From the song 'Honor', by Ateryu
It was beyond agonizing when Irriari saw the damage and the carefully executed brutality that had taken the once beautiful human body in front of her and turned it into a disfigured mess. Sevrai's eyes, that had been vibrant and sparkling only hours before as she spoke of the mischievous days of her youth, were blackened. Blood seeped from the corners of her swollen eyelids onto the dirt ground of the colony floor where it had been pooling for some time. Shallow lacerations covered her face, while deeper gouges and cuts marred the beauty of her flat stomach and legs. No one cut was severe or overly life threatening, but together, the wounds would have bleed her out, with no small amount of pain in the process.
Irriari had ran to her side, oblivious of the signs that would have spoken so loudly to anyone else. Sevrai, her beautiful slave and love, had been butchered, and was far beyond the realm of the living. Quickly, Irriari moved the blood and tear soaked hair away from the girls face, knowing that she had always hated to have hair clouding her vision. How many times had Sevrai complained, but worn her hair down, simply because Irriari had asked it?
“It's okay, darling, I swear, you won't have to wear your hair down... just move. Move for me, please. Come on!”
Irriari, knowing nothing of medicine, tried covering the puncture wound to the girls abdomen with a blanket that laid a few feet away. If she could stop some of the bleeding, Sevrai would be fine eventually. The begging continued as her hands and eyes surveyed the damage and tried to make sense of it all.
“Sevrai!”
Irriari's sentences lost their structure in a matter of minutes, and she repeated the girls name over and over incoherently. Blood was no longer flowing from the wounds, and Sevrai's corpse had began to stiffen. If she would have looked harder, past the flowing brown hair that adorned the girls head, Irriari would have seen the cause of death- a crushing blow to the skull. It was if a cat had played with her, and then after a period of fun had decided that the game was too boring, and that it had to end. Violent didn't describe this game. Had a zith from Din come to destroy her life and love? No one in the colony was ever this violent, even with their best akalak kills.
Slowly, the knowledge dawned on her, as Irriari held onto Sevrai's delicate hand. Often, they had found themselves in the den holding hands in the noontime hours while the rest of the colony slept. Sevrai's hands had been warm and soft them, but every part of them destroyed now. Her wrist had been snapped and fell to an odd angle. The palms of her hands were entirely brown and caked with dirt and small rocks that covered even more wounds. A few pebbles trickled between Irriari's fingers as she sat in the dark, too quiet room. Tears flowed freely from her eyes as she clutched Sevrai's hands tightly. Snap. The girls small finger broke, and Irriari keened while throwing Sevrai's hand away from her own.
Why hadn't she been there to save the girl? She would have hurt, and cried, begged and prayed that Irriari would save her and she hadn't. It was supposed to be a short trip into the tunnels, and it had been. Only two bells had passed since she had left the girl.
After 30 chimes, Irriari slowly stood and covered Sevrai's body with the thick wool blanket that she had loved so much. Some of us don't have fur, Sevrai would say, and then bury herself underneath the blanket. But she was always quick to retreat from the warmth whenever Irriari needed anything at all. Tears continued to run from her eyes as she carefully folded the corners underneath the girls feet. Shaking, she began the prepare for dinner, sure that Sevrai's killer would be among those attending the feast.
Irriari had ran to her side, oblivious of the signs that would have spoken so loudly to anyone else. Sevrai, her beautiful slave and love, had been butchered, and was far beyond the realm of the living. Quickly, Irriari moved the blood and tear soaked hair away from the girls face, knowing that she had always hated to have hair clouding her vision. How many times had Sevrai complained, but worn her hair down, simply because Irriari had asked it?
“It's okay, darling, I swear, you won't have to wear your hair down... just move. Move for me, please. Come on!”
Irriari, knowing nothing of medicine, tried covering the puncture wound to the girls abdomen with a blanket that laid a few feet away. If she could stop some of the bleeding, Sevrai would be fine eventually. The begging continued as her hands and eyes surveyed the damage and tried to make sense of it all.
“Sevrai!”
Irriari's sentences lost their structure in a matter of minutes, and she repeated the girls name over and over incoherently. Blood was no longer flowing from the wounds, and Sevrai's corpse had began to stiffen. If she would have looked harder, past the flowing brown hair that adorned the girls head, Irriari would have seen the cause of death- a crushing blow to the skull. It was if a cat had played with her, and then after a period of fun had decided that the game was too boring, and that it had to end. Violent didn't describe this game. Had a zith from Din come to destroy her life and love? No one in the colony was ever this violent, even with their best akalak kills.
Slowly, the knowledge dawned on her, as Irriari held onto Sevrai's delicate hand. Often, they had found themselves in the den holding hands in the noontime hours while the rest of the colony slept. Sevrai's hands had been warm and soft them, but every part of them destroyed now. Her wrist had been snapped and fell to an odd angle. The palms of her hands were entirely brown and caked with dirt and small rocks that covered even more wounds. A few pebbles trickled between Irriari's fingers as she sat in the dark, too quiet room. Tears flowed freely from her eyes as she clutched Sevrai's hands tightly. Snap. The girls small finger broke, and Irriari keened while throwing Sevrai's hand away from her own.
Why hadn't she been there to save the girl? She would have hurt, and cried, begged and prayed that Irriari would save her and she hadn't. It was supposed to be a short trip into the tunnels, and it had been. Only two bells had passed since she had left the girl.
After 30 chimes, Irriari slowly stood and covered Sevrai's body with the thick wool blanket that she had loved so much. Some of us don't have fur, Sevrai would say, and then bury herself underneath the blanket. But she was always quick to retreat from the warmth whenever Irriari needed anything at all. Tears continued to run from her eyes as she carefully folded the corners underneath the girls feet. Shaking, she began the prepare for dinner, sure that Sevrai's killer would be among those attending the feast.