1st of Summer, 518
6th bell
Martini's Apartment
6th bell
Martini's Apartment
Her shoes slapped against the dirt - faster, run faster - the only thing in her ears. The storm was indeed coming, and only those who heed the warnings would survive, and even then some would perish. Faster, faster, faster! Her lungs burned. The dirt and sand within the high winds slamming into her face as they headed to safety. Keep running, don't stop running. She was tired, exhausted and worn out.
She looked around wildly, her eyes pinpricks as she saw a mass of dirt and felt heat fly toward her. Nearly there. Her mother's hand was a sweaty vice grip that refused to let them be separated. Warmth filled her. It was hard to breath, hard to move. The heated winds roared in her face, daring her to challenge them.
She did.
A large, warm hand kept her from slowing, firm but reassuring on her back. Her father would keep them safe. They would live together after this, survive together.
Or so she thought.
The hand on her back was gone, she realized. She tried to stop, blood surging behind her ear canals. Her mother continued to pull, even as they looked back on her father as he went back towards the direction of the incoming storm.
Don't look back, he had whispered before the warmth on her back faded. And she couldn't even find herself to obey as she watched him. Where? Dad, dad don't go! She would cry, even as her lungs begged for her to stop and rest. Where was he going? Why did he leave us?
It's going to be alright Mart, her mother yelled, her voice a whisper in the gusts that tried to force them back against the storm. Down, go down. Deeper into the tunnels they fled, more people frantically fleeing before and after them into the earth. Don't let go of my hand.
Dad, dad he -
Won't come back!
Martini woke with a sharp inhale and a cold sheen on her brow. Before she could steady herself she lifted from her chair - knocking it back with a loud thud - as she paced frantically away from the desk she had fallen asleep on. Tears burned the back of her lids and her breathing became shallow.
She dropped to her knees in the corner of her space, pleading to anyone who could hear her. Father! Come back, come back, comebackcomeback. No sound left her lips, a silent whisper only the she and the gods could hear. She could feel her heartbeat, the thundering in her ears that seemed much to different with the rush of blood behind them as well.
"Haah..!" She was choking on her own air, quiet sobs leaving her lips as she came to her senses. Broken... that's how she felt. Shattered to the bone after every horrid flashback that haunted her dreams. There were so many ways she kept them at bay, mainly not sleeping.
She would work absurd hours and immerse herself in her projects. Anything to keep away the thought of rest - the feeling of fatigue. Avoiding problems was easy. Confronting them was more difficult.
She would never see the reason her father threw his life away. What could possibly be more important than living for you family? What had him making such haste back into a storm that clearly meant death? More importantly in her mind...
Why hadn't she stopped him?
She looked around wildly, her eyes pinpricks as she saw a mass of dirt and felt heat fly toward her. Nearly there. Her mother's hand was a sweaty vice grip that refused to let them be separated. Warmth filled her. It was hard to breath, hard to move. The heated winds roared in her face, daring her to challenge them.
She did.
A large, warm hand kept her from slowing, firm but reassuring on her back. Her father would keep them safe. They would live together after this, survive together.
Or so she thought.
The hand on her back was gone, she realized. She tried to stop, blood surging behind her ear canals. Her mother continued to pull, even as they looked back on her father as he went back towards the direction of the incoming storm.
Don't look back, he had whispered before the warmth on her back faded. And she couldn't even find herself to obey as she watched him. Where? Dad, dad don't go! She would cry, even as her lungs begged for her to stop and rest. Where was he going? Why did he leave us?
It's going to be alright Mart, her mother yelled, her voice a whisper in the gusts that tried to force them back against the storm. Down, go down. Deeper into the tunnels they fled, more people frantically fleeing before and after them into the earth. Don't let go of my hand.
Dad, dad he -
Won't come back!
*****
Martini woke with a sharp inhale and a cold sheen on her brow. Before she could steady herself she lifted from her chair - knocking it back with a loud thud - as she paced frantically away from the desk she had fallen asleep on. Tears burned the back of her lids and her breathing became shallow.
She dropped to her knees in the corner of her space, pleading to anyone who could hear her. Father! Come back, come back, comebackcomeback. No sound left her lips, a silent whisper only the she and the gods could hear. She could feel her heartbeat, the thundering in her ears that seemed much to different with the rush of blood behind them as well.
"Haah..!" She was choking on her own air, quiet sobs leaving her lips as she came to her senses. Broken... that's how she felt. Shattered to the bone after every horrid flashback that haunted her dreams. There were so many ways she kept them at bay, mainly not sleeping.
She would work absurd hours and immerse herself in her projects. Anything to keep away the thought of rest - the feeling of fatigue. Avoiding problems was easy. Confronting them was more difficult.
She would never see the reason her father threw his life away. What could possibly be more important than living for you family? What had him making such haste back into a storm that clearly meant death? More importantly in her mind...
Why hadn't she stopped him?