In the Pursuit of Death| ONC 2024

6| Little Sun

Eight years into the Ruin

*

A SOFT HAND held beneath a warm sun. Brown fingers dancing along curled petals. Forty-four moons had passed since the sky was blue and grass drank the morning dew, and nature blossomed. But Eris and her daughter strolled through a field of wildflowers.

Five paces ahead of them, an insect landed on a daisy the color of the sun. "Mama!" Daya said, squirming free of Eris's hand. "A bug!"

She scampered over, all skinny knees and long arms, her hair frizzing from its braids.

Eris sighed before joining her. She gave a cursory glance at the bug. Stripped yellow and black with wings like frosted glass. It looked like the bees of her world ought to look like. Just like the daisy looked like a daisy, and the field a field. But all of it had been pilfered from Greenworld's coffers, gifted to them by Akul, who would see to it his bride and daughter lived in a thriving world.

"It's a honeybee."

Daya's dark eyes widened as though beholding the bee in a new, fascinating light.

"You can capture it if you're fast enough."

"Really?" Daya's nose scrunched, and it was then, when the smoothness of her youth wrinkled, that Eris saw the angles she had inherited from Akul. A sharp chin, prominent cheekbones. A wide, flat nose. She had Eris's eyes, save for the gold that rimmed her irises, and her skin. Her hair was a combination of them both - long and black like Akul's, temperamental like Eris's. It was not so easily kept in place, and it frizzed when Daya grew too excited, or impatient.

Eris nodded. "Go on. But be gentle."

Daya nodded, dipping her head so she was level with the bee. She blew out her cheeks. The bee flew from one end of the daisy to the other, hovering mid-air, sampling the nectar, finding where it was sweetest. When it stopped to rest, that's when Daya's fingers curled around it.

The gold around her irises thickened, as Daya brought her hand to her ear. "It's buzzing."

She held up her cupped hand for Eris to inspect. Eris leaned forward, soft buzzing hitting her ears, strong and alive.

Daya chuckled. "It tickles."

"I think it's time to set it free, wouldn't you agree?"

The little girl's eyes darted to her enclosed hand before she gave a reluctant nod. "Guess so," she mumbled, shoulders slumping.

Eris ruffled Daya's hair. "You'll see it again. Bees love flowers."

"Like Papa?"

"Yes." Eris pressed a finger to the tip of Daya's nose. "Like Papa."

The frown receded on Daya's face, and she opened her hand. The bee took a few seconds to recognize its freedom, but once it had, it took to the air. It dipped and circled in front of both their faces before flying off toward the horizon. Perhaps it knew it hadn't belonged there. That no matter how green their corner of the world was, no matter how fragrant the air was with flowers, it couldn't mask the death and decay. Beyond Akul's protection, the world was a withered husk, and without sunlight and water and caring hands, it would never grow again.

Eris reached for Daya's hand, craving the warmth of her skin, the strength hidden within those tiny fingers.

"Mama!" Daya moved away, jogging a few paces ahead, the wildflowers a blur of purples, blues and yellows at her waist. "I think there's a rabbit!"

"Daya, don't go too far," Eris chided, her chest squeezing. What lay beyond the hill was sour dirt, dead trees and a valley of corpses.

Daya ignored her, running and giggling, her hair flapping behind her. She was out of sight before Eris could follow.