by SkieNight » Wed Feb 22, 2017 2:39 am
It was unclear what James was hoping for when the liger bounded towards them. There had been that small part that believed they were survivors surveying the damages. It was the voice of his father who always spoke for hope and leaned towards the good, a quality James strived for in a world that was slowly crumbling to despair day by day. But that voice was crushed as was James’s belief in any survivors when the liger stopped in its tracks and slumped visibly upon seeing James and Ciess up close. And whatever lightness in Jame’s chest shattered like one his mother’s glass cups. The kind that’s always dropped at family dinners because someone is laughing or yelling and doesn’t notice where their hand is until it's too late.
The brake, or course, was quiet in the snow. Silent like the air around him. Ciess searched her fellow liger’s face, and then the older man for anything that she could consider as answers. She found herself searching the eyes of a broken man, just as lost and just as confused as she and James were. Zlabia and her keeper may have been at the sight longer, but they knew just as much as Ciess and James did. That is to say, very little. Ciess looked over the wreckage again. The rubble, burnt and broken, looked to be both very young and very old. Bathed in the light of the twin moons, it was like something she and James would explore while on their travels. And yet it looked fresh as well, though perhaps that was because the last picture in her or her keepers mind was that of a powerful temple at the top of the mountain, looking down on the land, imposing, impenetrable, a symbol of eternal knowledge and wisdom.
Ciess turned to her keeper, unsure of what to do, where to look, and James, in turn, looked to the older man. He had been her long, both at the ruins and in Eldemore. Surely he had read more books than James had, seen more sights, heard more stories. Surely he knew what to do. But when his words came, it only shattered the glass more, one last stomp on something already fragmented, and James gripped the cloth until his knuckles turned white and he couldn’t tell if his hand was shaking from the cold night air or from the deep emotions that ran through him.
For a moment everything was still, and that silence that James loved so much and craved so deeply was suddenly too wide. Too cold. Even with another before him James felt alone. The silence was overpowering. His normally calm mind turned fast and faster, looking for anything explanation any way to process what had happened, what was happing. How they might be the last two keepers in Eldemore. His thoughts were cut short by Ayal extending a hand, a small piece of something lying across his palm. Carefully, James picked it up and studied the shape, using silvery light to inspect and gather information. It was soft, yet rough to the touch. Light, though it once belonged the something heavy. It was binding of a book, something old. And it made the gap in James’s chest only feel larger.
With a pain expression and brows knit together, James passed back the binding and slipped his own piece of fabric into his bag, listening as the older man gave instructions. Looking from his area of instruction to the damage Ayal wished to investigate himself, James almost opened his mouth, almost argued. But what was there to say? Should his fear of what might be lying beneath the beams and rocks be something to make the decisions of others? Besides, there was bound to be horrors everywhere. It was only a matter of time before the true extent of the disaster be reveled. “I shall let you know if I find anything of interest,” James said softly. Nodding, he looked to the other ligress. “Please, lead the way.” He watched her go and was about the follow but paused thinking that Ayal would speak again. The man only shrugged, and James started off after Zlabia with a final nod because that was all he could manage.
Once at the area of interest, James placed his pack on a larger rock, out of the way, and scanned the area. Upon first glance, it was just snow and rubble. No movement aside from Ciess, who had gone on ahead. The ligress moved about the rocks, peering into cracks and pushing aside small pieces. In the darkness, with only the light of the moons, it looked more like white swirls and patterns were scanning the ruins as opposed to a feline large enough to carry a man.
With a breath of hot air, James let his gaze drift from Ciess to the rubble before him. He began to move the pieces one by one, pushing them to the side. The snow should have been cold against his fingers, and it probably was, but James was so numb he didn’t even take the cold into consideration. He continues to brush snow aside, pulling out bits of parchment and leather, blackened with old ash from a seemingly ancient fire. As he piled bits of books and maps to the side, James tried to find a pattern. Everything was burned and ripped and crumbled. They way the rubble lay it almost looked like a disaster from both the outside and the inside, but it was impossible to tell what.
With the help of Ciess, who was by her keeper’s side in a thought, James pushed aside one of the large boulders in order to create more space to move about in and look in. He turned to the empty hole and stopped. Ciess was staring at it too, dull purple beads, most cracked and chipped, and covered in frost and ash and dust shimmered almost indigo in the moonlight. James only knew the beads were purple because he could picture them against an old friend’s neck and could see her smiling over them. “Start a pile over there,” James instructed Ciess, his own voice breaking under the pressure of his chest and his head. The liger scooped up the beads with a low grunt and started towards an open space where there was little debris.
James watched her go then looked over the rubble. With another breath he let his hands slide down his face, then bent down, and turned over another rock.
Hiding under sheets with the news on repeat
'Cause the screams and cries are hard to delete
While I'm trying to sleep, oh how could I sleep?
Laying in bed, trying to empty my head
All these acts of violence ripping this world to shreds
While I'm trying to sleep, oh how could I sleep?
Wish there were words to say to make a change
Oh, the words to sing to end this suffering
Let's start a revolution where we all stand as one
Cause we need to make a change for a new day
We need to be the generation that’ll awaken a solution
Cause we need to make a change
Make a change, make a change for a new day
~MisterWives
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