persistence

Grave

A jagged white line traced across the burnt red sky and lingered.

The girl watched, twirling a needle between her fingers. Her hair, the only thing close to moonlight in this place, streamed in a gust of wind.

At her feet, a skull sighed. The girl bent and knocked upon its crown. “Hello,” she said. “I would hear your story.”

The skull’s eyes opened, one green, the other brown. “Oh, it’s you again,” it said, rising, regaining its flesh. “My story is a long one.”

The girl stuck the needle into her hair. “That’s okay. We have the time.”

raven

Ganthis had seen many return to their bloody, broken bodies, but he had yet to require the brief slumber himself.

For centuries he’d wandered the rusted wastes, overcoming whatever lumbered into his path, trying to find a goal. Now he sat on the edge of a split in the land. If he jumped, he knew, he would only awaken at the bottom.

One of the black birds landed on his shoulder and twisted its head. The others circled above. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe he was the only thing here that still smelled alive.

His heart quickened as he watched the birds. For the first time in this place he removed his mask, bits of flesh peeling with it. The air, if that’s what it was, burned his lungs.

Perhaps there was a way to end it. Or come back as something new.

Spreading his arms wide, he lay back in the rust. The birds landed and began tearing at the fresh wounds on his face.

Many gods and beasts wander Lumen Marcia.