Fragments of Ash Vol. 3 (Urban Fantasy)

Chapter Fifteen: Ada's Cry

A church. There weren't many of those left ever since the purge.

Ever since the war that killed off all the priestesses.

The death of the Seekers of the Moon.

The death of Ada's nation. Everything she cared about. All the people she loved. All the people she could've loved. The land and culture she was born to be brought up in.

A scorched land.

Abram's churches were few and far between; they were mostly decrepit, run down, or hidden in the mountains where no-one would bother looking. Most cities had long knocked them all over, but Ada had found one. One that reminded her of home.

It must have been founded by immigrants. From the torn artwork and architecture, it definitely seemed to be of Seiruun nature. But she couldn't remember. It was difficult. Still, for the moment, this was her solace. Her home. A dark, depressing little church that helped her lock away her memories.

She was starting to feel it already, what the priest had said, it was happening. Her memories were starting to fade. She didn't have a stand, nothing to remind her of who she was, or what she was. That was what made the church so ideal. She knew she used to live in a Parish. She knew her family was dead.

Her entire family.

Her mother.

That one really lingered. It really stabbed her in the heart. She knew there was some unfinished business there.

The last few months, flying around in the sky, looking down at people like they were ants to be stepped on. There was a rage inside of her, and she had gone on a rampage, almost killing hundreds of people. It was all she could do to prevent herself from going full pelt and causing serious damage. But instead she floated around, releasing her pent up rage on random buildings, stadiums, anything that reminded her of... today.

Because today meant that yesterday was gone.

Everyone who was happy today had forgotten about the sadness. They'd forgotten all that had been lost.

And what was worse, this she was sure of, what was worse, was that it was Abram's fault. They started the war. They started the hunts for the priestesses. They killed millions.

And as the rage festered Ada continued her rampage but she had been seen as some sort of a mythological figure. Her desire not to be seen probably had something to do with that. She was wallowing in her grief too much. Once she realised that she decided to go into hiding.

Weeks of wondering.

What was her purpose?

Who was she?

She'd been created with an incredible power, it must have been for a reason?

Deep inside her she knew it was for some sort of vengeance, but she wasn't sure what.

And so she stayed hidden. Crying in the remains of a ruined church, hidden between the light shining through the shattered windows and the darkness of the shadows within.

It must have been at least two months. Two months since she stopped her rampage and just hid in this little pile of bricks and mortar. Finding scraps of food in bins or stealing, like she vaguely remembered doing as a youth. What else could she do? Find a job? Beg? She was too much of a madwoman to do either.

Food was food. She didn't care how she got it. If she wanted it, she'd take it.

What was wrong with her!?