The Black Peacock

Part 8

He was in the forest again. The lovely green forest filled with life. He was in the circular clearing. But now, there was no peacock strutting about in the center. There was nothing. There was a hole. Suddenly, the color was sucked out of the beautiful forest. Just like before. Except this time, it was being sucked into the hole. As was everything else. The trees, the grass, the sky. And soon, he felt himself being sucked into the hole as well. Into the all-engulfing black vortex. He was falling. Gradually, color came back into sight. Random swirls and streaks of color everywhere. And then he emerged from this vortex, perfectly fine.

Where was he? He was on a sidewalk. In a city. Surrounded by tall buildings. But there was no one walking about. He looked up at the closest building. It was the Qhassara Airways building. So he was in Ezmar. But why were the streets so empty? No cars, no people…

Suddenly, he heard a loud crash. It came from above. He looked up. The Qhassara Airways building was falling. As was the building across the street from it. And the building next to it. And the building next to that. The city was collapsing.

He ran. He ran to escape the crumbling buildings that were falling into the street. It was like a tsunami of sorts. Of buildings. He kept running along the road, his heart racing, until he was stopped by a building looming in front of him. A palace. He had never seen this palace before in Ezmar…

It started to snow. Heavily. The falling snow made it impossible to see. So what could he do? He went to the palace, and opened the door. He stepped inside. Lights were on. He looked outside through the window. Already, a foot of snow had fallen on the ground.

Suddenly, the lights went off. He went over to the lamp, using the light from the reflection from the snow to see. He turned the knob. Nothing. The power had gone out. All of a sudden, he saw little flames, everywhere. Candles. They all illuminated simultaneously. Neatly scattered about the palace. Tiny flickering flames, dancing all around him. He looked outside. Completely white. The snow was above the window. He looked back at the candles. There was a shadow in the middle of the room, blocking out some of the flames. A shadow, darker than the shadows. Darker than the darkness. It was the peacock. The black peacock.

The candles all went out. Absolute darkness. A large flame lit up behind the peacock, revealing its silhouette. Oh no. Not again. He had to escape this evil bird. But the door and windows were blocked by the snow. And now, there was a wall of fire behind the peacock. He could not run past the peacock anymore.

Heat. So much heat. The fire was getting closer to him. So was the peacock. He could do nothing. Helpless.

Maybe… maybe he could somehow open the window and get the snow to put out the fire? He started to try to open the window. As soon as he touched it, he heard a loud crack. The window shattered. The other windows subsequently shattered. A symphony of shattering glass ensued. And the snow poured in. Cold, white snow. It touched the fire. But instead of melting, or dousing the fire, it ignited into flames. Cold, white flames. The scorching, orange flames and the freezing, white flames spiraling in a mesmerizingly destructive dance. He could do nothing more. And the fires devoured him, turning him into a cold, yet burning pillar of fire. The peacock disappeared, in its place leaving wispy black smoke. And with the peacock, the fire vanished as well, leaving behind no sign of the death it had just caused. Just a stone. A dark, cold black stone.