The dark cloud devoured the sky as the woman moved through the forest. Her robes clung to her slender frame. Once was white but now dark brown in the color of old blood. Her clothes were torn and soaked. How was the maiden left in such a state? Nobody knows.
The rain poured without care to the world. It drummed against branches and stone as sound itself blurred into a single note. The air that was once was thick with smells of copper. Now washed away, dulled and spread thin leaving only a petrichor earthy scent.
Dragging behind her, a boy whose face was hidden beneath wet strands of his hair. Feeling a great pain at the side of her abdomen, she leaned forward and winced as she walked.
"Almost there…," she whispered.
Hearing a faint whisper the boy opened his eyes. What had greeted him instead of a tranquil and peaceful warmth of his bed. He was met with sharp pain all over his body and the cold element of the weather.
The forest opened around them. What awaited them was an old ruin made of pale stone and many broken pillars.
Moss crept over a faded carving, and murky water that ran down through the cracks of the wall. At its center was an altar made of fine marble. Slick with rain, glowing faintly whenever lightning crawled across the sky.
She stumbled at the threshold and fell to her knees. The boy slipped from her grasp: with a dull sound, his body struck the stone.
He felt the pain, wanting to speak out but he could not muster up a single word as if a great weight was pressing down on his chest.
She forced herself upright and pulled him closer to the altar. But action cost her.
With blood dripping at her side of abdomen, her breath came ragged against the cold air.
"Please," she murmured. "Just a little more." She reached out, pulling him to the altar and laid him down.
Her skin was cold and nearly translucent. The stillness of her barely moving chest can be seen. As if taking another breath can cause her to collapse.
For a moment she looked at him as if she was trying to burn images of him into her memories.
He too looked at her, wanting to figure out her intention.
But all he could see was only a small delicate curve of her lips. It was a smile. A ridiculous smile—out of place for such an occasion.
He wanted to know who she was and ask "Why? Why is she doing all of this?" But again, no words came out.
"You weren't made for this cruel world," the woman spoke.
"So… let another take you."
He felt a sharp throbbing pain on his palm as the woman sliced the knife across his hand. She then placed his hand on the faintly glowing runes.
It hurt. It really does. But there was a greater pain in his chest. As if he's losing something important.
The ruin listened and a low vibration moved beneath the marble.
The carved lines in the floor started shimmering, and soon a thread of light began weaving itself and spilled outward from where his blood had touched the stone.
She placed her hand on his chest. "This is all I can do for you, my dear." She spoke softly with a smile on her face.
Looking at the warmth smiles, he wanted to speak out and say something to her.
But again, his voice failed him.
There was a soft radiance surrounding the altar. The wind began to blow around them. Through the cracks and into the storm outside, the radiant light engulfed the area. The scent of rain and metal began to fade away as the light that spilled outward began to move toward them.
By my order.
"May the old world grant a new fate to you."
"That is kinder," she whispered.
Her breath grew weaker, but she held her palm steady against him. Soon the glow of rune within the altar climbed to his arm, reaching his shoulder, and finally began wrapping him whole into a fragile cocoon of white light.
"Live," she breathed, her voice breaking. "Even if you forget who you are."
This is my promise to you.
"My Hope."
"My Dawn."
The world beyond the light swallowed him whole. Only the woman remained.
She slumped down next to the altar, her drenched veil falling onto the wet floor as her hand outstretched toward the empty space.
After a brief stillness the droplet fell across her face, the rain returned—heavy and unrelenting but after a while it steadied down as the world itself seemed to have forgiven the woman. She opened her mouth half-heartedly, wanting to say one more word, but not a single impression of it came.
Silence was the only thing that remained.
A thin rain fell, hesitant… almost kind.
It washed the blood from her and from the stone.
She lay beside the altar, her body drawn in upon itself.
A quiet smile lingered as her eyes slowly dimmed.
In lieu of the boy,
she claimed the end meant for him.
___________________________________________________________________________
The light vanished.
The altar was gone.
The forest.
The rain.
Even the woman's voice.
When Arinia opened his eyes, he felt the moisture in his eyes followed with a warmth sliding down the side of his face.
Tears.
His vision was blurred. He wanted to recall the memories, but it quickly began to fade away.
For a moment he did not understand why.
His trembling hand moves toward his face, confused.
"What…?" he murmured in confusion.
But the dream was already gone.
All of it dissolved like mist beneath the morning sun.