Sang e Khisht

باب پچیسواں

@Acidicperson24 I'm so sorry! I meant to update, the comment thing was a joke but I put my phone on DnD and just slept for the last 2 days.

سُننے والوں سُنو ایسا بھی ہوتا ہے
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Chapter 25 : Dastaan

It was all red. Searing hot, plainly blusterous in it's carnal red shade. The centre of the fire a cherry streak, and at it's outskirts it was a fiery orange. Vermilion like the sun's longest rays, burning claret red at the end over the soil. It had spread around in haphazard shards over the cut open crops and the water logged fields had though stopped it from spreading too far, the explosion had led to destruction. Raging tall into the heights of the sky blue sky, the fire fumed in circles.

Dust rose in the air above the fields and rounded like a whirlpool — sinking down over the shaggy dense trees. Painting the bright green leaves in a sodden grey and particles of soil. The once perfumed air had turned into an amalgamation of slashed metals. Thick and heavy the burning iron from the explosive mine and grenade, married to the fumes of blood. Above the sky had turned a shade of deep silver. Dried soil had painted the soft clouds and over the soil it was in it's whole self been painted maroon.

Blood lapped into the open potholes along the sides of the latticed fields. Flesh, bone and carnage alike — had been stolen from lives far too soon. Shards of the metal had flown into lands distant, stabbing the barks of the shadowy trees and a few sliding into the thighs of the cattle. It was a howling mess the lands that were moments ago pieced in one large sense of harmony. Farmers lay over the soil injured and the vortex. The eye of the storm continued to rage on as help seemed to have lost it's way.

Screams of pain retorted into the chilly air. Shaking the drowsy men from their beds as the sun was still not bright enough. Embers of fire smoked and fell on to the linen shalwar kameez, a tray of food lay on to the ground. The bread was muddled into the bloody ground and ants had rushed over to ravage it. The gravy and eggs had fallen inches away from the hole of the fire. Painful screams still elicited from the fainted figure as hands rose to grip her out of the fire. It still burned and found no sufficiency to end so far.

His broad body lay at a side, on top of his stomach and the deep gash on his back was free for the air to infect. Grunting, his spit dribbled down his chin and melted over his sweaty throat. A painful ache gripped the front of his forehead and teared through the sides of his mouth, stabbing the centre of his jaw. Slamming a palm along the side of his warm face he rubbed his fingers together, feeling the warmth of his blood coat the hot flesh of his limbs.

Tiny — millions of tiny stabs struck Darab's upper back where an opening had found it's way. The flesh of his mouth had dried and splinters scratched the inside of his throat. Pressing a hand helplessly into the soft ground he forced his neck upward. Groaning as the effort succumbed him to a darker abyss. Peeling his eyes open he stared at the pale face of Golnar. His vision had blurred from the sheer intensity of his own pain, the back of his hand rested against the burning hot skin. To stop it from feeling.

With a thick numbness surrounding the lower of his back, his legs no longer feeling, Darab pushed himself forward. Sweat dripping from his forehead, agony threatening to take him into a world that was not of his. Sliding his weight over his forearms he crawled over his stomach. Lowering his head as the deadly ache once more held him hostage. Reminding him of his weakness as mortal flesh. Cutting the distance between himself and his wife, the fire surrounding them like a blizzard, he pushed his toes into the ground.