The Burning Heavens

Heya guys! What's up??

Anyways, this was written for a contest on Inkpop, where we had to take a historical event and put an element of fiction in it. So here's what I entered. I didn't win... but who cares about that? I really love it, and my new little characters as well, so I decided since I've been forsaking (yes, I just said that) you for too long, I would put this up to appease you a bit :) 

It's only a short story (about 10 pages on word), but I hope you enjoy! :)

(Oh and P.S.: Look, I know you all want me to write a sequel to TMH or at least an epilogue, but if even ONE of you tells me I should have been writing that instead of spending my time on this.... ARGH.... Yeah, that really annoys me.... so ENJOY! :D)

(P.P.S. And if you DO write that, then I will know that you haven't read this awesome top bit. Hehe :P)

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The Burning Heavens

            Troy was burning.

            I stood frozen at my window, watching pillars topple and battements fall. Screams tore through the night, tearing the heavens apart. The black sky, now tinged with red, was weeping as each star went out one by one, smothered by the rolling smoke.

            “Zandra,” my mother whispered from across the room, her voice cracking with the effort. “Come here, child.”

            Tearing my eyes away from the flames, I went to go kneel by her bedside, clutching her frail hand. While mine trembled, her’s was cold and still.

            She smiled weakly, her brown eyes, so like mine, starting to shimmer with tears. “Zandra, you must listen very carefully to me.” She gripped my hand tighter. “Troy is falling, and the Greeks have won. They will slaughter every Trojan they find.” Her eyes closed. “You must run.”

            My shaking grew into rattling tremors as her words set in. She meant for me to leave her here. I started to shake my head frantically even as the faint smell of smoke started to reach my nose.

            “No, I won’t leave you-”

            Her smile became affectionate, and her free hand reached up to touch my face. “I am sick, Zandra. But you still have your whole life before you. Run, child. Run and live, please.”

            Tears came now, falling fast and thick. “Mother, I can’t. I don’t know where to go-”

            Thud. Thud. A battering on the door started, beating like a drum to the harmony of hysterical screams outside. I jumped to my feet and faced the door, spreading my arms to protect my mother. More smoke drifted in from the open window, filling the room with a grey mist.

            The wooden panels I had secured over the opening splintered, my last measures of defense crashing to the floor. I crouched as jagged pieces of wood went flying through the house, a strangled scream coming from deep inside my throat.

            This is it, I thought to myself as a dark figure marched through the doorway, a sword gleaming at his side. My last moments of being alive. Oh, gods and goddesses, have mercy on the innocent souls-

            “Zandra!”

            My heart stopped. “Phelix?” I whispered, holding my breath as his face materialized through the mist. Dirty streaks covered his skin, and there was already a shallow cut on the side of his throat. He wore no helmet, allowing his fierce blue eyes to find mine.