COF 3: The Fallen Dynasty

14 | Massacre (II)

The avalanche roared for them. Reeca cursed. "Pulrin!" She called to somewhere behind her. Cirasa was gone from the rear. "Shut the bunker!"

Wings tinkled. Screams from both the army and the shard fairies painted the dusty air. The smell of upturned roots and vines drew closer. No time. No—

A wall slammed into her. Everything went dark. No.

Her head throbbed as the feeling in her limbs went back. What happened? Darkness hugged her body even as she blinked her stinging eyes. The smell of excrement mixed with burning glass made her gag. She flexed her back and her wings wouldn't budge. Was she...

Was she stuck? Reeca exhaled, noting how thick the air was. Her magic blazed to life in her fingertips as she pressed them on a crumbly wall atop her. She screamed as she drove her weaving energy out in a desperate torrent. The darkness exploded with a hiss when light flooded in. Reeca gasped as fresh air passed through her nose. Her head poked through the hole she made but her legs were still trapped underneath mounds of mud and glass.

The dust settled. Slowly. Smoke ebbed away from Reeca's eyes with a hiss to reveal a landscape she couldn't picture to still be Rabante. The once towering trees were buried under a thick layer of what used to be the plateau's lip. Glass shards and even discernible parts of the once great mansions in Abshire stuck out from the elevated floor. Reeca's stomach turned. What happened? She remembered the plateau coming at them. She had yelled at the others to take cover then at Pulrin to seal the entrance. Why did she do that?

"Ria!" a familiar voice rang in Reeca's ears.

She whirled to find Cirasa trudging towards her. He had ditched his varichria glamour, showing off his white, Rabante robes now flecked with mud. One of his arms hung limply from its socket. His hair had turned ocher from all the soil stuck into it.

He got around Reeca and started clawing at the mud with his hands, digging her out. Reeca shrugged and helped out too. After a while, Reeca kicked her legs out of the pit with a grunt. She spread her hands and collapsed into the lumpy surface.

After a while, she drew back up and faced Cirasa. "Where is everyone?" she flicked her gaze around. Nothing except dark earth and glass. "Those who got inside, are they okay? How did you get out?"

"The bunker people are safe," Cirasa blew a breath. "They met with the noble families in the common lounge underground. I was able to sneak around and found a way to activate the entrance," his eyes softened. "I can't leave you out here without knowing if you're alive or not."

Reeca pursed her lips, waiting for Cirasa to say it. "As for those who are left," the shard fairy averted his eyes. "They're dead. All of them."

Reeca's throat constricted. "No..." she lunged forward, proceeding to claw against the ground with her fingers. "There has to be someone like me who made it out alive! I made it out alive. There's bound to be someone, anyone—"

Strong hands gripped her arms. Reeca squirmed but they didn't let go. Cirasa's voice rang in her ear. Pained. Breathy. "There's no one, Ria," he whispered. "I felt their synnavaimis go back. Their trails had moved on. I saw and I felt it all."

Reeca froze. Her breath came in shallow gasps as tears pricked her eyes. Strength left her limbs and she crashed against Cirasa who snaked his arms around her shoulders.

She cursed, running the back of her hands through her cheeks. She wouldn't cry. Not in front of a boy. Who were these people anyway? It's not like they've been part of her life. They wouldn't remember her like she wouldn't remember any of them. There was no mutual connection between them.

Then why was she crying?

She recalled the first time she stepped foot in Rabante and witnessed a live, bustling city. These people have lives. They're all trying to live. Children, women, even fairies who had a few wrinkles on their skin. They believed that they would be saved.

They could have had a future. How come she survived but they didn't?

"Hey," Cirasa's gentle voice made blood rise to her face. At the same time, she wanted to drown in it. She rested her head on his shoulder as his arms dropped to her waist.

"Don't tell anyone about this," Reeca sniffed. She pressed her face against his neck. Who was this person and why could she do this with him? "It's the one thing only you can know."

Cirasa buried his hand in her hair. "None of this is your fault, Ria."

"Rikavien," she laid her hand over his chest as she whispered.

Cirasa inclined his head down to peer at her. "What?"

"Rikavien," she said. A small smile played on her lips. "That's my name."

Cirasa chuckled. "You little liar," he breathed. "We have to make a shard fairy out of you yet."

Reeca melted into his embrace. "Promise me you'll never talk about what happens here," she whispered. "It's the least you could do."

Cirasa didn't ask. He nodded. "I promise."

Reeca blew a breath. There, in the midst of the graves of hundreds of shard fairies, she let herself cry.