A QUEST OF DEATH : Dawning Darkness

00 | Lived Too Long (edited)

In the hushed embrace of night, the silver moon emerged from its celestial slumber, casting its radiant glow upon the tapestry of the sky. Its luminescence spilled across the heavens, bestowing an otherworldly glow upon the realm below.

Bathed in the moon's celestial light, the earthly world took on an eerie beauty. Shadows danced and swayed, their forms elongated and distorted, hiding secrets of the night. The air carried a delicate chill, and the nature itself seemed to be holding its breath, aware of an impending twist of fate.

Through the moonlit alleyway strolled a woman, wrapped in a verdant leather coat, returning home after surviving yet another day in a world where her remaining time was swiftly waning. Clutched in her long, manicured nails was a translucent plastic bag, carrying essential items for a baby. It dangled loosely, like her life dangled from the edge of the mortal plains.

Upon reaching her doorstep, she fell into her usual routine—turning the lock with a deft twist of her wrist, a faint, almost imperceptible shimmer of greenish light accompanying the motion, and crossing the threshold into the familiar darkness.

As expected, the soft sounds of licks and slurps greeted her—a chorus that had accompanied her for the past few weeks. Though she should have grown accustomed to it by now, the sound still served as a relentless reminder that time was slipping away. Her lover needed to do something about it fast.

She turned to face the figure seated at her dining table, who seemed to be busy savouring the last packet of her favourite cinnamon tea as he sat content in the enveloping darkness he preferred.

"Hello there. You look quite exhausted today," he greeted, setting down his cup.

Ignoring him, she walked past the table, releasing the plastic bag onto the counter in a not so elegant manner. Instead of turning on the lights just like any ordinary person would do, she approached the sole window facing the stove and opened it.

Drawing back the curtains, she let in the same moon rays that had guided her through the alleyway, to permeate her surroundings. It revealed the man sitting at the table, her white porcelain teacup, and a few baby rusks scattered upon the surface. Even from the side, she could discern familiar features on his youthful face, features she had once cared for.

"Only three more days remain. I am here to ensure you haven't lost count," the young man under her scrutiny remarked.

"I need more time," she sighed, leaning against the windowsill, her leather coat creasing against the wooden frame.

"I understand your yearning, but we are bound by rules. I granted you an extension at your request, allowing you to prepare for little Alid and Masa before your departure. However, it seems you have been too consumed by life to truly care," he continued, sipping from his cup.

"That's not true. The time given to me is simply not enough. It's not as easy as you think," she snapped, oblivious to the weight her words carried in his presence.

It made him finally turn towards her, shifting on his chair trying to get comfortable on the hard cushion under him. With calm composure, he fixed his dull grey eyes firmly upon her delicate form. His face impassive yet somehow hinting at impending danger.

Realisation dawned upon her as to what she had just done, prompting her to hastily add, "I couldn't save you. Let me at least save them." Her voice, devoid of genuine concern or worry, reached his ears and he let out a sigh.

"If only you were this concerned about me, Mom..."

"That's not the point, Samuel. They are still young and alive, unlike you. How can a mother abandon her infants like this?" She protested.