[Flashback]The World Melts (Solo)

[Aurrealis]

Last day of Winter-1st Spring, 512 Avanthal It was supposed to be a celebration. It was never intended to be a horror story. We had been setting up for days for tomorrow's special event. Huge ice sculptures of beasts, snowflakes and Vantha history have been transported to the Windward Boardwalk as the day inches into sunset. Food has been prepared, tested, improved and set out; furnishings laid out into place and crystal wreaths hung over every canopy, doorway and arch. Sparkling icicles infused with ever-changing lights dangled amongst the park, instilling captivation, shining down on the eager faces of the townsfolk. The trees were slaughtered with stormgems, a luminous haze throughout the garden. There was an ugly, looming overcast far off into the distance, but the city of Avanthal mystified like a mirage in the desert. A gentle end-of-winter breeze surrounded the city, as frozen water swirled about, kissing everything it touched, ever so gently. The Polar Bear Guards slowly turn up, sporadically placed amongst the park, conversing with the people, awaiting the arrival of their Queen. Tomorrow is the Coming of Spring, and Queen Morwen's return to Avanthal. We hold this festival bi-annually, once at the beginning of Spring and once at the end of Fall. This festival illuminates the city for three days, bringing a welcoming return of Morwen and celebration for all. Children and adults alike prepare for this day, making and bringing all types of special dishes and decorations, Hold by Hold, family by family. I never really understood the day. It was often, to me, simply a large party-gathering, filled with food, music, dance and lights. However, last Coming of Winter I finally caught up with it's significance, and this Coming of Spring celebration, I was determined to ensure my place in Morwen's return. I would never admit it to my father, but I secretly was eagerly awaiting for tomorrow as well. The sun had nearly shattered completely into the horizon. This signaled the coming of a hazel-green, blue twilight, shimmering the skies above. I saw the lights peaking through the tall, evergreen trees and woodland canopy, slithering beneath the stars, vivid with memory. The sweet pulp aroma drifting amongst the forest filled my nostrils. I turned to the edge of the forest and saw the blinding, beautiful festival thrive with energy and waiting anticipation. Anyone to my knowledge, from any Hold, never slept the night before the Coming or Going of Winter, for it was a common fear that one might miss Morwen's magnificent arrival. I closed my journal swiftly and ran through the shadows, darting back and forth, careful not to step on the invisible, fragile thread of the universe. My father hates when I'm in the forest for too long. He fears greatly for my safety, often scolding me on irrelevant misdemeanors. I see through his voices; he sees no colour in the usage of plant research and beneficial application. He sees no life for aspiring healers, ones much like myself. If he only understood what this journal meant, not in ink or writing, but in future progress and experimentation. I dare not to venture off far into the wilderness, straying not far from the edge, only until when the stars begin to rise. Tonight was special, it was an Eve for the preparation of prolonged efforts. My father was waiting for me at the edge of the Boardwalk, clumsily hanging the last of snowflake, emblematic decorations. "Aurrealis, there you are, I've been worried sick. Did you not see the storm clouds? You should of returned earlier, everyone's retreating indoors." To my surprise, he was actually taking down the decorations instead. "We can't stay out tonight," he said with a rough voice, "that storm is rumored to be disastrous. We just got word The Spires are in chaos. Because nobody in this bloody Hold tells us anything," he continues bitterly, his eyes turning rich red, "the Eve of celebration is cancelled. Sorry bud, but we need to go." I looked around, shocked with disappointment, my eyes the color of air and ice, mixing with contorted confusion. My father had already seemed to finish packing up the rest of the fragile decor, stuffing some handmade ornaments in a basket for me to carry, quirking an eyebrow at my dumbfound expression. My head drooped as I made that long, tedious walk back to Whitevine hold, passing smaller settlements and shops hastily closing up and removing breakable, expensive decorations and hangings. When we arrived, I crawled into bed silently and closed my eyes, bundled up beneath a few Vantha knit wool quilts, dreaming of my disappointment. Just as I was slipping away out of my conscious mind, I heard the crackle of wind and snow blistering at the window. I don't remember what happened prior to me going to bed, nor did I remember that I left my cherished medical and research journal on a park bench, as it sits, alone and forgotten. ~~~~ I woke as the sun stretched out it's first morning rays onto Avanthal, as do most Vantha on common days. However, something didn't feel right. My heart beat fast, my head pounded and my entire body sweat with exhaustion. I was burning. I threw off the wool covers, finding instant relief as I began to breath easier. My throat itched and my mouth chapped with thirst. I went to the sink and gulped down large quantities of -warm- water, wiping my mouth with my sleeve and looking in the mirror on top a small step stool as mellow, earthy green eyes stared back at me; my usual normal morning colour. How odd, though. Heat exhausted in sleep and drinking nuke warm water, for it was only the start of Spring, and Avanthal stays covered in ice and snow. Just then, my father calls an east window. He stares outside, his stance tired and full of bizarre fear. "Aurrealis...come here my boy, and tell me what you see." I was expecting to have missed Morwen's return, but his frail voice suspected otherwise. I slowly turn, walking without knowing haste to the window. As I looked out into the continued storm, for wind still raved outside, water droplets dotted the window. The view of the once beautiful snow-covered street was now washed away, replaced with wet slush and water, depleting the snow as more rain came down. I have never seen such element to fall from the sky, I have heard about it, but never experienced such amazement; it was if our drinking water replaced the snow, melting the town to pieces. A great snowflake ice sculpture, once beautifully twinkling in the starry night skies, filled with intricate designs and carving, was half gone. Melted away, forever destroyed. I looked at my father, a dark blue bled from his iris as he looked out onto our beloved, dripping world.

[Aurrealis]

We stood like that for a while, silently, watching the horror as it developed right in front of our eyes. I felt no confusion, though. Nor did I feel sorrow, only curiosity. I was enlightened; it was thought provoking. I felt heartless, but I also felt calm. The icicles that resided above our window dripped and melted into water, disappearing altogether. The rain blew harder, louder, no longer mixed with sleet. It crashed against our windows, mocking our melting city. Suddenly, all at once, it stopped. The horror halted. The clouds loomed past, the skies a vivid blue. We were then aware of a high pitch scream from across the halls, realizing an avid crying above us. Another scream came from outside, a woman running through the streets in drunken confusion. She screamed for mercy and aid, her voice strained and gone. We looked at each other as we ran outside as quickly as we could, followed by many other scared, confused and crying Whitevine's. We ran to her, nearly slipping in the slush beneath our feet. "What happened! Are you alright?! Tell me what's wrong!" My father pleaded as we reached her. She was soaking wet, her eyes the colour of a bleeding dusk, infused with orange and red. "Coolwater...gone...water... everywhere! ...Death.." The woman gasped out, spitting out water, eventually fainting onto the exposed ground. A Whitevine doctor, dazed and confused, quickly attended to her as he yelled out to others, "Get to Coolwater, NOW! Grab all the medical supplies you can carry!" Countless physicians, their eyes white as snow, fled into the Hold, returning with kits upon crates full of medical equipment, spreading the word to the rest of the Hold's doctors. In record time, every last medicinal supplies were drained from the Hold; every single practitioner running to Coolwater. I started running ahead of the mob of doctors, silent and blurred, when my father grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back to reality, "Stay here. Do not move from Whitevine, do you understand me?!" His eyes were that same desperate blue. With that, he ran with the rest of the adults, leaving me alone on the watery streets. I looked around, to further comprehend what had just occurred. I need to know what happened. Was it something we could of prevented? Was there any research or prelude of this? What could be the underlying cause, and, is it elsewhere than Avanthal and The Spires? I pondered there, staring at the melted snowflake sculpture. It dripped unlike my determination to figure out this impertinent disaster. There were a couple polar bear guards across a courtyard to my right. They were morphing in considerably large, spontaneous amounts - fear in their roars and groans in their voices. I called out to them as they ran further away, trying to escape such confused sorcery, only to disappear all together among the streets. I turned to the center of the city, Morwen's castle high above the settlements into the distance, melted slowly and steadily. The tip roof was flattened from the heat, the spires thinning and shrinking, but not melting at the rate as the rest of the city. To my knowledge, Morwen hasn't come yet, but when she does, she won't be the very bit joyous with our welcoming celebration. A thin old man slowly opened his shop door behind me, following my gaze, horror stricken. His eyes, however, held an ice-blue - his expression insightful and clear. "The storm started this early morning before the sun rose, child. Can you believe that?" He continued, as he folded his frail arms, watching the melting castle. "All this destruction in such a little amount of time. The heat...in such a little time...everything's...gone." He paused, before speaking again. "The Iceglaze miners went to work early this morning, before the storm hit, for they thought it would pass when the clouds hung over Avanthal silently since dusk the night before. I don't think they realize what has happened." The man shrugged and creaked back to his shop, slowly closing the door, letting it creak into small echo. I heard a baby cry in the distance. As a moment passed, I finally stumbled upon the fortified thought; the miners, they're still down there. They're far too deep to hear of any storm, and the walls themselves are made of solid ice. My eye's widened as I sprinted to the mines; my heart galloped as fast as horses. There was this darkness that slipped into my mind. It blinded me, my voice was lost, the air was foggy and the ground turned to a blur. I passed Hold after Hold, street after street, approaching the noise of screams and desperate pleas. Nothing seemed right, my vision was in twirls, an agonizing vortex seemed to pull me into the cosmos; mentally and physically. My legs turned to water and my head pounded like a burning forge. Yet through all this, I remained determined. The screams were more prevalent now, tearing at my ear drums. I reached the hill overlooking the mines. My eyes stared down, unblinking, and motionless. I felt no horror, I felt no pain. I simply felt, tragically, enlightened. The mines had collapsed and flooded in an instant. I saw the pure, agonizing grief of the remaining Iceglaze that stood before the flood, crying at the grave of their members that swallowed them whole.

[Aurrealis]

I walked slowly back to the tattered Windward Boardwalk, my feet dragged. I had suspected the worst of Coolwater through logic and reasoning; half of the Hold had been flooded. Mirror Lake melted and drowned numerous amounts of it's members in their sleep. My father hadn't returned or called for me, he seemed to disappear among the panicked crowds. I felt nothing of sorrow. I wasn't even mad at myself for being so heartless, but I was however aware I had become so heartless. It feels like I was never once accustomed to anxiousness of loss and the tragic death of innocent lives. It's a saddening event, but...it didn't phase me. Both events... On top of the storm too? What has happened to me? Am I gone amiss? Am I now a lost cause, only to drift among the cosmos, alone? Morwen hadn't come yet, and I feel like this could be her fault. What have we done to the Gods to deserve this tragedy? I sat down on a park bench, eventually reaching the Boardwalk. I put my face in my hands, cursing my lack of heartfelt emotion. Next to me was my medical journal, soaked but yet legible. It's been sitting there, awaiting my return. I flipped the water stained pages carefully, ink blotching a couple of pages, losing some valuable research and information. I wasn't disheartened. I was enlighted; but for good reason. This was a sign. This city has little left for me, it's far too dangerous. The cities gates melted, and as I took the long way to the park, so did the prison. Everything has turned to chaos. Why stay here? There's too much death in one place; too many screams, injury far beyond my healing capability. I got up and grasped my journal. Confidence and that remaining determination surged through my blood. I walked back to Whitevine, searching the skies for answers, leaving the remnants of the destroyed celebration behind. -End-