Free City. Thats what we planned to make when we landed in Earth. A habitable place for our worshippers.

I thought of this. I crash landed us in a place called a barenned island. Less then 1,000 people crowded around our ship, some banging on our sensitive windows.

Godesses. That’s what they called us. They knelt before us all, their ‘hands’ clasped together. We promised them land and food.

We were built a large castle. It was made out of stumbly mortar, and reddish orange hard scratchy blocks. They gave us everything. Everything they had.

For the ones who didn’t? Well, thats a debate.

(Blast from the past INCOMING)

Inuueq brought us to a round table. One they called, “The Divine Table of Goddesses.” Nine chairs for nine of us. We sat down randomly. I was next to Pilutaq and Sorsunneq.

(Keep in mind they’re talking in their native alien language- I translated it into English so life is easier for both of us.)

“Okay. I brought us all here to.. dicuss something.” Inuueq drew circles on the table with her index finger. “Well?..” Sorsunneq spat.

“An anonymous goddess has complained about the people that were killed a few days ago after they disobeyed our orders.” Inuueq seemed nervous about the topic.

Did I know who submitted this order? No. Do I absolutely believe it’s Toqu? Yes.

“What’s the problem about?” Nuannara scoffed. “Look, I’m not sure.” Inuueq sighed, summoning what seemed to be a little booklet. “Something about how they didn’t deserve to die.”

“They didn’t.” Ulloriaq sat up more. “We crash landed here and demanded their land and obedience. Obviously someone was gonna disobey- but that doesn’t mean we should have killed them!” Ulloriaq’s rant stopped when Seqineq pulled on her arm.

Toqu stayed silent.

Imeaq leaned back. “Look. They could’ve started a riot against us. We’re trying to do what’s best for us. If we hadn’t crash landed in this awful barren landscape, we would be perfectly fine. No one would have to die.” She seemed harsh, clearly trying to destroy Ulloriaq’s point.

Seqineq crossed her arms. “We can’t even do anything. We don’t know who crashed our ship, or if it was just a space phenomena. I’m sorry, Ulloriaq, but we can’t do anything about them either. Toqu has them.”

Ulloriaq’s angry gaze shifted to the quiet Toqu. “Let them go.” She demanded. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“Let them go, now, Toqu.”

Toqu took a breath. “I can’t free them. But I know who crashed the ship.”

What?..

Wait. That’s me.

“Tell us then- go on!” Sorsunneq nudged her.

“It was Aningi.”

Oh my. Did she really just..

Everyone’s eyes drifted to me. “The Goddess of luck, worth, and fortune. No wonder we got landed in a habitable place.”

What?

“This meeting is done. Everyone, just.. leave. I need to speak to Aningi in private.”

“Everyone in this room is alive because of good ole Joe and Delaney over there.” A videotape of Joe and Delaney Saradotchi’s Christmas party with their children plays in the background. The Saradotchi couple had three children, Jenny (aged 7), Henry (aged 5), and Natalia (aged 3). A couple more lines of dialogue plays and it cuts to where Delaney and Jenny are out of frame. Joe is talking about how he, Henry, and Natalia are playing horse outside. And then…. Then…. I remind the tape to a few seconds back. You can hear a muffled scream. And it cuts Then it shows Delaney talking to the camera about how she’s making Christmas dinner in the kitchen that’s painted an off-white, with white tiles. Delaney talks with her hands. Quickly she moves her hands to show the palm of her hand, showing a blood stain. I pause the video realizing that there is blood all over her. In her hair, on her apron, on her shirt, on her face, in her fingernails. And then I move my eyes to look at the pause a see… a hand… laying there, lifeless. Mortified I fast forward, but to my horror. It just shows me the brutal murder of their other two children. The torture and agony they must have felt as they died. It later shows the parents killing themselves by shooting each other. I look at the family photos and think “Everyone in this photo is dead because of Joe and Delaney Saradotchi”

Her mouth was hanging open in shock, shaking her head as she looked down to the ground where blood and guts and body parts were strewn about, seeing little to no ground. They were high school lovers, now in their late 20s. They’d been through everything together. Even college, deaths of loved ones, and being far apart. It felt like they were inseparable.

She never really got along with her family, that part was true. They’d often fight and end up arguing with each other, sometimes it turned physical. She was glad to have moved two states away from them, where it was least likely to ever see them again, and she most likely wouldn’t need to hear from them. He followed her, of course, because they were planning on moving in together anyways. They were going to be going on a vacation in a few weeks. But now… now her reality was shattered, dreams tossed, she had no idea who he was.

And sure, friends and family that had known him had said that he wasn’t a good guy, he’d turn on her when he had the chance, but she didn’t believe them. He was so kind and sweet to her, giving her flowers every opportunity, presenting her to family functions, giving her gifts and planning dates and their future.

Their future, that was now shattered. Torn apart like the bodies on the road. She wanted to marry him. She wanted to have kids with him and grow old with him.

“What have you done?” She whispered.

“I got rid of your little problem, sweetheart.” He told her, so casual, as if the problem wasn’t lying on the ground by their feet.

Tears welled in her eyes as she scanned her surroundings. She never thought loving him would turn into this, she’d heard the stories, heard their warning, and still she stayed. Because she thought that’s what love was. But as she looked at the carnage before her, she was so terribly wrong.

“I didn’t want this,” she choked out, her head shaking. He had a choice and he chose her.

“You wanted this,” he reassured her. His tone was soothing, convincing and confident. “Because you wanted me, you chose me.”

She was shaking her head, tears streaming down like rivers down her cheeks now, “No,” the word sounded strangled, different, coming from her mouth. “Not like this.”

“You wanted me, Mira!” His voice was rising, “you wanted a bad boy who’d take care of you when it was needed.”

“That’s not-! This isn’t-!” She couldn’t form words, much less thoughts. She was so afraid of him now, so afraid to move but he had taken a step forward. She didn’t want to step in more blood, or on a body part.

“That’s not what, this isn’t what, Mira? The answer? This isn’t the way? This isn’t how the story is supposed to end? Well, Mira… this is how it ends.” He had a smile on his face, now, despite everything he’d done, he was still smiling.

“No!” She screamed, surprising even herself. “Mom…”

“Everyone has a choice, Mira.” He said, his voice low now. “Your choice has resulted in everyone dead.”

Her eyes widened at his accusation, “that’s not true.” Her words were steady, steeling confidence that wasn’t felt, but heard. “We moved to get away from them for a reason.” She reasoned, it wasn’t her fault they were dead. She wasn’t the one that blew them to pieces.

He frowned and cocked his head to the side. “Mira. They followed you. They followed you two states away and they were coming to hurt you, or did you forget?” He took out his phone that had a copy of the voicemail that her parents had left her.

“Little lamb, did you think you could run from us? From me? You’ve been training your entire life, only to run away when things got difficult. Now isn’t that selfish. Well, no matter. We’ve found you and our friends are coming to pick you up, be nice and get in the car, or we’ll come for you personally.” The voice sent a cold chill down her spine. She had thought she had escaped that life, she never wanted that life, never wanted the family.

“They trapped you, remember? They came after you and I’ve made sure they’re gone.” There was no escape, never any escape, that much she knew deep down. From one abuse, to another. The cycle always repeating.

Or rather, in her case, from a mop affiliated family to a cult family. She didn’t care for the blood shed, for the money, she didn’t want to follow what her family was doing, but his family seemed like a lesser evil. Sure, they sacrificed small animals, and hunted wild animals. In his case, he was a pyromaniac while enjoying the blood shed.

“They’ve been sacrificed for Moloch, for the greater good, for our protection, prosperity, and good health!” He exclaimed, sounding like a madman to her, but a good leader to the rest of his followers.

Even her father wouldn’t have done this much. Her mother would’ve been much cleaner going about it. Their blood mixed together on the ground, their pieces scattered but mostly recognizable, covering the various symbols.

“They’re dead thanks to you, for bringing them to us,” he repeated, and she turned to look at the cheering crowd. About a dozen and a half people were there, all enamored with Luke, they hadn’t had this big a sacrifice since the elden days.

It’s all over . . . And I’m glad. I’m glad it didn’t hurt, I’m glad the pain is gone and I’m glad that I’m fianlly done. With everything . . .

My eyes flash open as my breath gets caught in my throat. I gasp for air, my eyes pooling with tears as the white room clicks in my brain. I’m . . . Here. The hospital, and I’m okay.

“Maisie!” Davian rushes to my side, his eyes tired and filled with relief. “You’re okay.”

He’s so beautiful . . . I start sobbing as I fall into his arms. My head resting on his shoulder as he holds me close, like I’m still slipping away from him.

“Why . . .” I sob quietly as my eyes fall to my wrist that’s covered in a white bandage. “Why did you save me?”

Davian lets out a shaky breath, his arms still holding me up as he burrows his head into my shoulder. “Because . . .” Davian’s voice becomes softer than a whisper as he gently pulls away. “It’s all I want to do.”

It’s all so blurred. My vision, my thoughts my feelings. But my heart . . . It’s as clear as day. And it’s telling me that this boy, this crazy amazing boy in front of me, hasn’t just saved my life, but he’s saved something else. He’s saved our life.

“You always do . . .” I murmur as his hands slowly crawl up my arms. “You always save me.”

Davian’s hands brush my cheeks as he leans in close. “Maisie . . .” He breathes his eyes flickering off of mine. “Someone’s got to . . .”

My lips part as tears glide down my cheeks and melt into his hands. I never realized I needed saving, I mean I knew I needed something. I knew I needed light, happiness and love, but I never knew I needed saving.

But then again I never imagined meeting someone like Davian. Someone speical who isn’t supposed to love me, who doesn’t have to, but still does.

A question burns in my mind as my wrist throbs at my side. I don’t remeber what happened, besides the fact that I passed out after cutting myself. And now I know that I was saved.

“I never save you . . .” I lower my eyes to the white sheets that cover my legs. “I’m sorry.”

Tears prick in my eyes as Davian’s soft hands leave my face. Maybe I’ve just made him realize his mistake, I bet he wishes he’d left me on my bedroom ground.

“Maisie . . .” Davian’s voice trembles as he lets out a small breath. “I . . . I . . . There’s something . . .”

I look up as Davian pauses his face stained with tears as he plays with his hands.

My hand snakes away from my side, meeting with Davian’s. He’s shaking, more than he should. I squeeze his hand, scooting closer to him as he gasps. “Maisie,” he breathes. “Maisie . . .”

My heart flutters in my chest. “Davian . . .” I echo with his names, suddenly everything seems to make sense. Of course this is right, of course he’s right. “Can I kiss you?”

Davian’s eyes flash to mine as a small smile tugs at his lips. Before I can take back what I’ve said his hand has left mine and is up on my face. His lips brush mine and everything melts.

My heart slows down in my chest as all the pain in my wrist floods away. Just when I thought that nothing could get better about Davian . . . He heals my pain, he heals my heart.

I pull away, raising my hands to his face as he smiles at me his forehead resting agaisnt mine.

“Yes . . .” He says his black eyes glowing the way I hope mine are.

A small laugh comes out of my mouth as Davian’s cold hand protects my cheek. I’m in a hospital because I almost killed myself and yet here I am laughing. Davian really is something else . . . And I’m glad he’s mine and I’m his.

“You do save me,” Davian says his forehead still gently touching mine. “You save me Maisie.”

I pull Davian’s face back to mine, kissing him like the world is ending. If it did I wouldn’t care, I have Davian and that’s all that matters.

In shadows deep, a mournful sight, Gone is the day, swallowed by night. Whispers echo, sorrow's refrain, Everyone here, lost in pain.

With heavy hearts, we bear the weight, Of lives extinguished, sealed by fate. Their laughter silenced, dreams untold, Because of them, a story cold.

In hallowed ground, they rest their heads, Amidst the tears, the unspoken threads. Each name a reminder, etched in stone, Their presence felt, though they have flown.

Grief engulfs us, a somber shroud, But love endures, a flame unbowed. We'll cherish memories, strong and true, As we honor the fallen, hearts askew.

Information fled into his mind as if conscious thought spoke to him through the wood. The dragons were dying by the score. Dökkálfar and men close to the base of a cliff. None took flight except for a mighty beast, hewn in black, spewing fire across the hordes below. On they came like a raging inferno blown by the winds.

These were the sacred grounds where dragon kind came to die. The Black was the Keeper and inflamed by wrath at the intrusion. Melted flesh drooled across the fields, and still, they came. Riders hacked from their Wyverns as arrows fell like rain. If only they had taken flight, then the massacre would be to the intruders. But they refused. Not here; this was the ground of their ancestors.

Upon their dead bones, did these serpents cast away life, corralled against cliffs that stood for millennia? The Black soared in circles until exhaustion incapacitated its flight. From a watch den high up on the cliff wall, did it see its kind butchered? The blood of dragons flows like water. The Elder Mages fled to a portal resting at the mountain’s base.

Too few remained to be effective now. Delalande felt eyes rest upon him. The Black knew of him. They are coming, Scribe. Know this, my kind is dead because of them.

“They have landed” “It is THEM, isn’t it?” “Indeed, it is.” The men could hardly talk, due to their lips quaking. A solitary tear fell from the taller man’s eye, without him even think about it. “We are going to die, aren’t we.” The smaller man almost whispered. “I reckon so.” Responded the other. “Look there, the Flesh Raiders are disembarking from the spacecraft.” A few rat-like Orcs with skinny bodies and long noses scuttled from the mothership. After the Orcs had disembarked, a larger, twenty foot tall Ogre with an extra mouth on its stomach. “I have heard stories, but I never thought that the Ogres were actually that big” The smaller man said, while hyperventilating. “That doesn’t matter anyways… Evan!” The taller man screamed in the most cowardly way a man could. “They are coming our way! Look!” “We have to run!” “It is too late, Evan” “No it isn’t…” Evan, the smaller man, couldn’t finish his sentence before George, the tall man, slit his throat with his pocket knife. Evan couldn’t even scream. He was sad to see his friend dead, but he understood the reasoning quite well. ‘Everyone here is dead because of THEM anyways. Right?’ Those were the last thoughts Evan ever processed, before he was crushed by the club of the Ogre. “Don’t eat that one!” Yelled one of the Orcs to the slimy Ogre. “His skin looks like it would fetch a high price. Human skin always does.”

“She’s just a girl!” someone shouts, and it’s true.

Avani Wystan is a girl, barely sixteen and all the more terrifying for it, but she’s also insanely good at what she does.

It’s her destiny, whatever the people say.

And she’s standing just feet away from me, looking straight out at the crowd like I’m not quite brave enough to do. If a man from the Water realm or the Sky Realm was here, he would think she was Queen.

She is not, of course.

“Everyone here,” I say, waving my hand vaguely at both the crowd and the people standing beside me, “is alive because of that girl. If I say that she is my highest general, it is for good reason.”

Two girls, so close in age and so far apart in almost all else… it’s a wild thing, in the end. In another life, we could have been friends, but we are in this life, this world, and that is not a safe thing to be.

Sometimes, I hate being Queen.

Sometimes, I hate everything about destiny.

But what can I do about it?

I was born to rule, and I am ruling. I can’t be bothered to fight, not like Avani.

That girl could probably fight fate and win easily, the strength she has.

It’s… incredible.

Every autumn leaf slowly dances round. Round on the gentle breeze, held safely in tender hands. Hands of the finest translucent lace. Lace that turns to dust in the turning of the age. Down falls the autumn leaf…

…crushed and forgotten by the time the season turns bitter and stark.

There wasn’t a time that you could remember the forest being free from the heavy biting grasp of oppression. Then again you seemed to only frequent the sacred space in the depths of frigid winter. Somewhere along the path the magic seeped into your devilish veins, tiny hands of wonder meticulously pulled away the thick tar coating revealing cells of vibrant garnet. Injecting a long-forgotten drop of joy, one that fizzled like fireworks. Unable to stop the spread of the intoxicating glee, you allowed a brief grin to lighten your clouded face, before the fleeing spark vanished into the lengthening shadows.

Regaling your inner child, you skipped freely through the crisp blanket of autumnal fire, elated to hear the cracking of the spines for once. This time your hands stayed clean, though they were already tainted by many sins. Your lithe fingers itched to caress the fabric that wrapped so tightly around a fragile stem, and you granted them permission. Under your fingertips the bark ran, sometimes smooth and sometimes rough. Each telling its own story, each differing from the next.

How you had once dreamed of building a log cabin to become one with nature. And how cruel the hand of fate, when the cards are dealt.

A trace of what was before tickled your memory into pulling your lips into a faint smile. That was before those fatal words, “Everyone here is alive because of them. They don’t deserve the family name; they don’t deserve to grace the halls of the citadel.” The agreement was unanimous, the jeers and calls clear: you had to leave, or they would bay for your blood.

Could they, the council, not see that not every order was just? In fine looping script you wrote: ‘I shall not carry out any command, unless I see and understand the justification.’ That line was held tightly by the crisp pressed sheets between an ornate leather book. It was the secret oath, one that you hoped would become more solid in its stature. A book that was issued to all in your family when they reached ten years of age, a book that you detested, but you were bound by a blood oath. An unbreakable oath, but one that you accidently forgot about on occasion, earning the tentative respect of your proposed target, as you aided them in their escape to a better life elsewhere; for all intents and purposes the target simply vanished from time, history, and memory.

However, now there was nothing more than hollow ghosts of memories that lingered and haunted. Did your family know of the horrors that you relived under the silver strand that gathered spilled dreams? Yes, you were a feared assassin, but some assassins have a heart. If you had swallowed the toxic spite of your family name, what would you have been…you knew the answer and it repulsed you to know the full extent of your woven sorrows and spite. Word around the city seethed with loathing if a susurrate of your family name was heard, it also conjured fear and many dare not let the letters roll from their tongue.

Acidic laughter dripped sagely into the still air, swirling around whipping itself into wispy clouds. You desperately wanted to let the caustic particles to torrefy the remaining iron vault, to release the resentment and suffocating pain that had so carefully been stored. The acrimony stealthily stole your breath, drowning despite the safety of the dry land. Unable to bare your weight you trusted the wise silver birch to catch you.

Wisdom. A word full of wonder and enlightenment, one that had continually illuded you despite your relentless pursuit. Deep down, you knew that there was sparse seam of this precious mineral, but you didn’t have the tools to uncover it… yet. Once again, wisdom flapped its sharp curved wings and vanished into the sunset, the downdraft chasing away the last remaining bubble of hysterics.

Rocking forward you took back control of holding up your own muscular frame, you felt the dying warmth of a golden stream brush away any doubt. Nodding sharply once you smirk, “Everyone… is…soon to be dead.”

Turning from the light, you slunk off into the skeletal remains of a once lively place joining the creatures that feasted on the remains. Weaving a heavy thread of warning through the encroaching dusk. Each loping step bringing you closer to the alluring promise of power to change the ways of the old, you had for too long quashed that gluttonous rat into a cage that had long been outgrown.

Today would be the day of your ousting and your rising… if only they knew.

It was an inconspicuous shadow that slipped through the crack in the window, one that gave no warning, yet all felt the chilling murmur of death. Crows, momentarily distracted from preening their gloss midnight feathers, let out a raking caw, a sound that rattled off the roof. If deaf ears listened, they might have time to heed the warning call. The Heir of Tenebrosity had come to claim their crown.

That shadow that appeared paused for a fraction of a second to lurk beside the faded grandfather clock; you appreciated its loyalty that produced a steady tick. Tonight, it would chime its final beat. Mercifully you severed its lifeforce in a single swift motion, you inwardly winced as a dull thunderous crack rang out the end. Not even the heavy weights could withstand the change. Serenely, you emerged from the impenetrable umbra, before wiping the smile from the butler’s face with a lavish flourish. Barely registering the carcass, you continued, you knew where to find your father… alone.

Nails tapped out a steady beat, driving the deliberate drumming out into the great hall. All the while the mahogany frame remained sturdy, as it had done for hundreds of years. Your imposing air held your spine tall and proud, barely brushing the plush velvet cushion. Your motionless gaze forced the unmoving door to shrivel and waver, your patience was wearing thin. Attenuated until it finally vapourised, there would be no forgiveness. “Come on father, stop being a coward,” you hissed through gritted teeth.

Just as you were about to break the stiff forelimb with a vice-like grip, the mighty door finally relented, “I told you to get out of here! You are nothing more than a disgrace-”

“Yet, I’m back,” a warning flickered like a shy flame in your cold eyes of the forest, pinning the regaled figure to the backdrop of shrinking silence. With practiced ease you flicked your slender wrist. Ears sharp as a bat heard the soft low hum of the test and the challenge spinning through the diaphanous ghostly mist. Age seemed to have failed the stout man.

What takes flight must land eventually and it seems as though his barrel chest was where it was to nest. As breath caught and drowned in his throat, an inconspicuous hand forced him to stumble backwards. Further, yet closer to the danger. Tainted in luxurious rose spittle escaped from his wobbling lips. Once…twice his rotund arms waved, a moment of teetering suspension, before the blade was driven deeper as he crashed to the felled ancient oak planks.

Amusement sparkled in your eyes, before you snuffed out that fleeting fae, as you strode forwards. Peering down with condescension at the greying folds that once held handsome features, you heaved the dagger from its home. A sigh wandered out into the open, lost and confused. How welcome was that scarlet bloom, those snaking ruby rivers, and that sharp tang of finality. Even as death snagged his soul, the eyes remained impartial. Wicked coldness encouraged your tongue to trace over the biting contours and steel heart. At last, you allowed the taste of victory to wash over you, “I warned you,” a primal growl echoed hollowly.

The assassin in you begged to lap up the vermilion sea, yet you knew this was the dawning age of The Heir of Tenebrosity.

Everyone here is alive because of them. I have to keep reminding myself this over and over again in my head as I slave away day in and day out at the hand of my maker. Literally. Jesus himself. Well, his minions.

It was a summer day, but it was raining…or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just cloudy….doesn’t matter. I was sitting on my back deck just minding my own business and eating some Hawaiian Ice with my bulldog, George, and it happened. You read about it in the Bible specifically in Revelations, but it’s a lot different than what you could imagine.

The sky had lightning running through the clouds like veins pumping blood through the sky. I took George inside and threw away the remnants of my treat. My mom was at the grocery store and my dad was out of town for business. Janie was at cheer practice and wasn’t expected home until dinner time.

There was a loud yet silent bang that was more like a force than a sound. I thought it was just an airplane flying too low. Suddenly, everything got bright. Super bright. It’s like I was all of a sudden driving into the sunset. I was completely enveloped in the light. Then I was thrown into a line. All kinds of people in front of and behind me. All waiting outside, yes you guessed it, a giant pearly gate. Hundreds of us just hanging out.

I couldn’t talk; I couldn’t move. I stood there waiting for what seemed like forever. More people were thrown from nothing into the line. Finally, the gates opened. There was complete silence. A woman appeared and whispered in each of our ears:

“You are a child of God. You have been chosen to rebuild earth and restore hope. We love you.”

Then, BOOM!

I was back on earth, except it was completely barren. Nothing but soil. Behind me was two men dressed in all black guarding an enormous stack of wood. Next to that was all kinds of supplies like shovels, hammers, nails and power tools.

“It is time to build.” The one man said.

I couldn’t respond and I couldn’t control my movements. My body moved itself over to a 2X 4, then grabbed a hammer and nails. Me and another older man were partnered together by the force and were connecting our pieces. I looked around and saw no one else. Was this a special assignment? What was I building? Who were these people?

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!

I rolled over and turned my alarm clock off. As I pressed the off button, I noticed something strange about my hands. They were covered in dirt….