GA Writing Prompts - 6. # 10 Eschaton (Prologue)

Eschaton

Prologue

Under a canopy of fluorescing stars that were all too quick to fade, they stood looking out on the burned and devastated land. The final battle was beaten and the war was over. It would take years, however, to reestablish peace and rebuild the devastated land.

Falael raised his eyes and looked at the nightly sky. He looked at it in almost awe and wonder. Never had he seen the beauty of the night. A chilly breeze touched Falael’s skin. The air was still filled with the smell of a thousand fires. This smell was familiar to Falael. For the first time in his life, however, he did not react to the smell and did not instinctively watch out for immediate danger or their ever so powerful enemies.

Falael sensed his comrades by his side. They, too, stood in silence and watched the sky. The stars faded and a faint light illuminated the horizon. The birds had started to sing. Falael listened to their song that was welcoming dawn and the new sun rising. Never had he heard so beautiful a song.

The song of the birds faded away. The gray of the sky was replaced by red, a color vivid and filled with life. For the first time in his life, Falael acknowledged the beauty of the reddened sky. So far, he had associated the color only with blood.

Falael felt a shiver running through his body. The sensation was new and almost disturbing. He focused on it. It was not the familiar rush of adrenaline. The sensation was soft and warm and almost tender. The sensation built up and was accompanied by a feeling that Falael had no name for, although it was not entirely unknown to him. The feeling reminded him of his long-dead mother. Falael had felt like this when she had placed her arms around him.

Falael swallowed and his lips shivered slightly. His mother had been killed when he had been a very young boy. Falael had almost forgotten about her. He had not given his mother a thought for twenty-five long and horribly wasting years. It was just an image that his mind had created. But the face of his mother touched him deeply. The woman looked young and beautiful and happy. Falael’s mother smiled at him.

Falael lifted his chin as if in resistance. But it was in vain. Falael surrendered. He gave in to his emotions. The rising sun shed a warm and welcoming light. And for the first time in twenty-five years, Falael’s eyes filled with tears. For the first time in twenty-five years, Falael, life-long soldier and sworn warrior of Tyrnea, closed his eyes and cried.

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