Excerpt: The Night that Fell

The Night That Fell.

By Q. N. Jester.

Looking at the wanton destruction that spread out before her, the woman tried hard to remember how something so small had come so far, and caused so much chaos. She remembered it, clearly- this insignificant, miniscule starting point, so far back in months, weeks, days...
“You always look so sad, Ahdri.” The words brought her back to the present, brought her back to the here and now of her death as it looked down on her.
She was broken; she was defeated, twisted, battered, cut down. Her left arm hung uselessly at her side, her right eye swollen shut with blood. Her right ankle wobbled with the effort it took to hold her legs up, her gloves bore rips and cuts- bowstrings and knives pulled so taunt that the magical material that made her gloves had given way under the stress. Her shoulders ached; her dress fell in tatters, barely covering her form with flimsy cloth. Her voice, when it came out, was a hoarse, twisted sound, broken from combat, broken from singing and screaming and crying; a pitiful remains of what had once enchanted men she had called beloved.
“I am not a pretty thing that bows and smiles to suit your whim.”
Owl laughed, carelessly tossing another dagger at her. “No, that you are not, sweet Ahdri.”
Her body blurred as she dodged and the beginnings of pale, moonlight golden essence began to warm its way around her limbs. The beginnings of her next barrage. She looked pitiful, standing atop that hill in a tattered dress, covered in blood, dirt, sweat and smelling of death. He sat on a rock, clean, unblemished, silver tattoos glistening in the dying sunlight with shifting, beautiful moonsilver designs. Still wearing his costume that he had worn at the party, hours ago.
The party had felt like a lifetime ago for her.
“I am not a gentle thing that cleans and sings to suit your flings.” She spat, fingers of her left hand spasming in obvious agony as she brought her arm up to the position at which she would hold her bow, if it wasn’t crumpled like tissue paper on the ground, a mighty artefact, reduced to tinder before Owl’s whim.
“Ah, but you are lovely, Ahdri- I love it, that look in your eyes, it gives me the shivers. Hate me more, my love. Hate me so much that all you can think about is how much you can’t stand me. Think of your husband, think of his broken, twisted corpse as I killed him. Think of your friends, Ahdri- all those companions you couldn’t save-“
“I am not a flowery girl with bows and petals in my hair.” She whispered, quietly, almost to herself, bright blue eyes darkening as the strength of her anger rose inside her. Thin tendrils of pale gold began to rise from her body, curling in the air around her, the shape of her anima taking form before Owl. He should have been afraid. The world was beginning to go quiet, so very, very quiet now.
“Ah, little Ahdri, your power is growing so well- I am impressed, but it won’t be enough... I have waited centuries for this, beloved. You will not cause trouble now.” He moved in a blinding speed, clawed hand reaching out to knock her down, but she shifted, twisting out of his attack at the last second, her body blurring with lines of essence. Talons of a moonlight golden creature were beginning to appear around her, a giant tail lashed in the air behind her, incorporeal, but a fearsome image beginning to uncoil. Always she was hidden, always she was shielding this part of herself from the world, and now- she began to release it. The terrible, terrible silence.
“I am the forgotten one, whose secrets remain unsung.” Her cracked, pitiful voice rose in volume, her eyes imbued with the after images of the creature unfolding behind her. “I am the hidden one- whose power is yet unknown.”
They stood on the hill, overlooking the creatures and machines that warred below; the destruction of the city that stood between this man and the object he wanted. Fires raged behind them, airships crashed and exploded, cannons boomed in the distance, great behemoths roared battle cries as they tore into the walls of homes, destroying wantonly. The sickly smell of death carried on the wind and the sound of the buildings falling was like the rumbling of thunder amidst the storm.
And then the silence came. She released it around her like the fallout from a soul breaker orb. The silence spread outward, eating away the sounds of the world- bringing nothing but the silence. The silence one hears at the end of existence. The war had been loud and terrible, but there was more- in the silence, there was nothing, nothing but what she whispered.
The dragon was filled with rage, and despair and hatred. Its eyes burned with the golden fire. Its breath fogged in the silence, making no sound, uttering no voice. Great claws dug at the earth, its long tail whipped from side to side.
And as she spoke, the dragon unfurled, and it roared.
“Fear me Owl, I bring the sun.”
The silence was horrifying.

~.~