The Firmament Saga: Book II: The Rivers of Blood

Chapter 4: Rain of Death

Chapter 4: Rain of Death (Van)

Waxday, Week 10, Month Duos, Year of God 489

Van chewed his last measly piece of doughy mossbread, sighing as he massaged his roiling stomach. The hunk of bitter, green bread was stale and moldy, but he forced himself to choke it down. It tasted disguisting and sat even worse in his stomach, but he had to keep it down. It was the last of the food in his hiding spot.

On that horrible day a month ago, the Wind Caste had murdered thousands of the denizens of Urbs Sacer. The heartless warriors had flown into the air and rained fiery destruction on the assembled crowds. Van had been knocked out when someone had fallen into him and slammed his head against the cobblestones. He had awoken into Hell itself.

The rain had poured down onto the ground, creating a sickly, smoky, yet bitter scent as it washed over the lines of charred corpses. Around half of the entire city had been killed in that first attack alone. He had stood up, clutching at his buzzing head. Many of the other cityfolk had laid down in an attempt to play dead, and his mother Marlindah was one of them. He had gotten her up, and raced away from the terrifying scene. He had ran back to his apartment, and barricaded himself in there with his mother for a couple weeks.

The situation got even worse once they had ran out of the scant food in their larder. While Marlindah ran a noodle shop just below their apartment, she stored the food in a warehouse across the street. It had a cooling facility that enabled food to remain cold for extended periods of time, an incredibly bulky and impractical technology for personal use. After some deliberation, Van had decided to get food from the warehouse.

He was just beginning to put on his boots when the Wind Caste swooped down. A stranger had been scurrying down Green Rat Street, taking great care to stay next to the buildings. Their face and body had been obscured by a hooded cloak that was colored a similar dark grey to that of the cobblestones. Unfortunately, a small battalion of Wind Castemen had noticed him and swooped down. They skewered the ill-fated traveler with their lances, killing them almost instantly by piercing their head. The falling rains had quickly washed away the blood that spilled from the person's wounds, leaving a misshapen grey lump just lying on the street.

Van had decided to not take his chances, and had scoured his family's apartment for more food. To his delight, he had found five large loaves of old mossbread in a chest in the guest bedroom. It was moldy and stale, but when he had cut the mold off, there was still a decent amount left to eat. The first loaf had lasted for five or six days, but it was hardly enough food and the pangs of hunger had grown only worse with each passing day. Nonetheless, Van and Marlindah subsisted on those loaves for several more weeks. A few more hapless wanderers fell to the swooping soldiers during this time.

Now, over a month after that day of destruction, they were out of food. Van swallowed that last moldy bite of mossbread, stood up from his chair, and looked around the room. They had holed up in the general-purpose chamber on the ground floor of their apartment, and had barricaded all of the windows and doors. The only light came from a single candle placed on the table in the center of the room. Dust and dirt covered the walls of the room, but the floor had been cleaned due to the frequent pacing about of him and Marlindah.

"We're out of food, mom," Van sighed. "I guess this is it."

Marlindah, who was sitting hunched over in a corner of the room, looked up. "So we are," she said listlessly.

Van sighed and sat back down. "What are we gonna do?"

Marlindah stood up. She looked haggard and emaciated. She had elected to give the last loaf to Van, and she hadn't eaten for eight or nine days. Her eyes were sunken and beginning to give up the last vestiges of hope. "Die, I guess."