Ashes to Ashes
The stone was cold beneath her bare feet, and her green dress was a shocking splash of color against a cold grey background. The air was hazy and smelled like smoke, as it often did these days, and the sun shown weakly through the blanket of smog and soot. Forget about clouds, fat and heavy with precipitation, they had all fled in fear when the destruction started.
She had been here once when she was just a girl. The sun had been shining brightly that day, and if she thought hard she was positive there had been birds then. The grass had been springy and green, much more pleasant than the rough stone beneath her feet now. This place had been beautiful, affording a view of the entire valley, lush and teeming with life.
A hot breeze ruffled the dress around her ankles and the red hair hanging over her shoulders, and blew ash over the tops of her feet. The only thing she could see through the haze was the glow of fires, and the scorched sides of the mountain. She imagined she could hear people screaming and crying, but she knew that was an illusion. There was no one left living anymore.
She sensed a presence behind her and felt callused hands run down her arms, to settle gently around her wrists. She smiled and linked their fingers, bringing their joined hands to her mouth so she could brush her cool dry lips across his knuckles.
“Such a pretty sight, isn’t it?” Micah whispered, sounding almost reverent.
She only nodded, knowing he would be satisfied to accept that as her answer. She wasn’t afraid to speak in his presence, as so many others were, she just didn’t want to break the soft spell of false peace that had settled over the place. She’s not sure what it had been once, she hadn’t even known when she was a girl. Now, though, it was just a place of ruin. Crumbling walls, crumbling statues, crumbling stone. Crumbling, crumbling, crumbling everywhere.
She saw lightning flash in the distance, and a moment later heard the deep rumble of thunder, feeling as if it had originated from the mountain itself. She knew there would be no rain, and the fires below would go unchecked, consuming everything there was left, which wasn’t much.
“Do you like the view from your castle?” Micah’s voice asked, still soft.
“Is that what this is?” she asked, quirking her lips and sounding amused.
“It’s anything we want it to be, dear. This place is ours now.”
“This place is nothing. Ash, fire, dust, and ruin.” She paused for a moment, and then added in a wistful tone, “It used to be so pretty.”
Micah disentangled their hands and walked in front of her, his back to her. He crossed his arms over his chest and surveyed the vista. He stood like a conqueror over lands that he had claimed by force, and she knew he could not see the same thing she did. He didn’t see the way this place had once been green, or the laughing children she had known. He only saw land to be taken and blackened. “There are other pretty places. Prettier than this one,” he said.
Nothing could be prettier than this place once was, it was home. She didn’t dare say her thoughts aloud, though, and instead said, “Other places that you’ll do the same thing to. Even if I tell you no.”
“You’ve never told me no, pet.” It was true, she hadn’t. And he wouldn’t have been able to do anything if she had. This was her world to command, but she was his, and any thoughts of rebellion were wispy and fleeting. She didn’t like to think about it for long. She knew she could have stopped this before it had even started, but she realized that she didn’t want to. That thought was huge and scary, and best buried under the rubble of the valley and her home, along with the little girl that had once visited this place. She thought she heard the laughter of a girl, but she knew that was only her imagination, as well.