Fireflies in Moonlight [boyxboy]

Chapter I

"I'll cling to the hope that one day, after such a strenuous wait, I shall hold you in my arms and whisper against your lips, 'My dearest, you were worth every second.'" - Caroline George, Dearest Josephine. 

~Thursday 27th October 2011~           -Kija-

If there was anything to truly despise about the Deadlands, it had to be the silence. It wasn't tender, nor gentle. It was crushing. An infinite weight that could barely be shifted. There were times here and there, throughout the days, mostly in the evenings, when sound would drift through the winding tunnels, yet it was nothing more than that. There was no ambience, no absent sound, no natural melody. What Kija wouldn't give for simple birdsong, for the creaking of trees in the wind, the crackle of leaves under his feet.

Instead, his footsteps echoed. In the hush of the caves, footsteps were thunderous, a storm ravaging through the calm. Ears pricked at the first sound of movement, metres away, lost in the shadows of the caves. Kija couldn't go anywhere without an audience. There was no slipping away, no disappearing between conversations. Eyes would follow, trail behind him until he turned a corner out of sight. Sometimes it was a comfort, knowing one could never be alone in the Deadlands - there was nowhere to hide.

"Please..." Other times, Kija loathed the quiet, "let me go..." That day was as still as any other. Kija's footsteps echoed in the same monotonous melody, his boots clattering with heavy thuds through each step. And, yet, there was punctuation to his movement too. The harsh drag of cloth against the ground, skittering stone against stone, nails clawing pitifully against the sleek obsidian. Those caves could be called a beauty, a wonder; comprised of obsidian with veins of pulsing blue crystal that illuminated man-made pathways. Kija would prefer them to stay that way, untouched and unsullied by those unworthy.

He stopped in his tracks, jostling the man tossed over his shoulder, adjusting from where he had already slipped into a less convenient position to carry. Deadweight was hardly comfortable, however, it didn't bother Kija beyond the subtle intrusion into his day. Even with the man being relatively large, a decent two hundred pounds of muscle, Kija barely registered the heft of his prey. He preferred those that ran off in front of him, struggled against bindings and walked their final steps with their own two feet. It was atypical that Kija had to physically haul his feed back through the caves.

"I won't tell anyone..." quiet disrupted again, Kija peered over his right shoulder, unobstructed as his eyes met with the pretty blue pair staring up at him fearfully. The gaze was glassy, disoriented. One swift knock to the skull had done that, Kija pondered whether to repeat the process in the vain hopes that it might draw back the silence that he somehow missed in those moments. More tears ran from the corners of the woman's eyes, Kija decided against further violence. Sympathy wasn't the cause.

Rearranging his grip on the woman's ankle, Kija continued through the tunnel. He considered lifting her over his other shoulder rather than dragging her along the ground, however, that would just take up time he didn't have that day. It was only a few more turns. Kija kept his eyes set forward, flickering over the jagged cuts in each wall of the tunnel, following the pathway he had carved out for himself. Reminders were necessary in the beginning, when the maze of tunnels was so disorienting. After three centuries, Kija could walk those hallways blind.

The Deadlands were their damnation. The sanction his people faced in penance of their queen's sins. Resentment didn't begin to describe the quilted hatred Kija felt from those he protected. From a race of millions, rulers of an earth they had crafted to their very wills; down to hundreds, huddled in the inky caves of the in between. Kija was beyond indignation. He had a purpose, a reason to exist beyond the futile hope of escape. The same couldn't be said for his people.