The Shadow of the Fallen Titan

Part 1 : Chapter 9 | Aeolian

"Kon went to get Alara at the clinic!" Dakota roars over the wind as we trek through the streets. "He's taking her home!" My heartbeat thumps in my chest as we crouch to the board. The haze of the storm is taking over the street, and I can hardly make out the buildings in front of us. Debris still lines the road, and with two people, dodging it provides a greater challenge. We gain speed on a straight before a piece of building that is singed with electricity appears between the dust clouds. 

I gasp and pull up on the board, and Koda groans as the board lifts us above the rubble. Too late. The weight of both of us fight with the board, and the rubble shrieks against the metal base. Magenta flames spray on the impact, and I grasp at Koda's arm to steady us. The fog is so thick I just make out the next pile of rubble, this time throwing out weight to the right. As we swerve, our unhitched feet sliding towards the edge and we both scream.

Too far. I pull our bodies to the left, and the board whips back to the center of the street. My foot slides, and slides, and suddenly there is no board beneath my right foot. Searing pain shreds through my leg and I scream as my whole body is thrown to the side of the board. Koda grabs me, his body the only thing keeping me upright. He pulls me up and I catch my balance, resting my foot on the surface of my board. I don't dare put any weight on it.

"Almost there!" Koda's voice breaks through the wind. "You okay?" I nod, tears welling in my eyes as I feel my heartbeat throb in my ankle. The wind rips through my hair, and I take a deep breath as I press my left foot into the board, picking up speed as my house peeks over the sandstorm ahead.

We pull up to the decrepit bunker, the front window is sprayed in shards across the entry. I throw myself off the board, unlatching my foot and leaving Dakota strapped it. My heel screams in protest as I hobble towards the door.

"I don't know how to get this damn thing off!" Koda calls after me, but I don't turn around. I press on the door, but the wind fights against my plead for it to open.

Not the wind. Something stronger. A pressure pressing in toward the house. I dig my feet into the dirt and scream again as I push the door in, at the pain, at the fear that rips through me. The metal frame groans, and I slam my foot again into the dirt. The door gives, slamming open, and I fall into the entryway, sand covering my palms and knees on the impact. 

I bite my cry as another pulse of pain shreds through my ankle. My whimper sounds in our house, and then I notice the quiet.

So eerily quiet. 

The storm is still raging outside, and I turn my head to see our front door flung open, and gusts of wind swirling beyond the threshold. But inside, light drifts of sand trickle in from the doorway, and only a light dusting of granules coats the entryway floor. I scan the floor, the walls, the air for any sign of magic. The house, rusty and falling apart, hardly sounds under the blasting sandstorm. I tilt my ear towards the kitchen, then down the hall. 

I clench my teeth as I stand, pressing my hand to the wall as I lean on my left foot, and take small steps towards the door. I suck in a tight breath at each step, the pain twisting through my ankle and up my leg as I peer into my bedroom. 

Not a thing out of place. 

I take a few more aching steps to my mothers room and press the door open.

Her body is anchored in the center of the room—floating—and from her pulses waves of magic, as fast and bright as lightning. I gasp, as my eyes register her body hovering, the blankets draped over her, as if someone tucked her in to an invisible, floating cot. And then, I feel it—the light that ebbs through the room, through me. The echos of the pounding waves crash through me. The quiet pulls towards her.