Resurrection {NaNoWriMo}

Chapter 18

Alias woke up frantic, immediately stumbling to his feet and looking wildly throughout the room where he had slept. He was in his rebuilt home, in his and Alana's room, but Acacia was nowhere to be seen and again the bond had gone silent. The last memory he had of her was of her body thrashing as if she was being drowned in power, just as she had been upon the elders' test. Had they somehow found a way to reach her in the above world, so far away from Community?

But he doubted that. They would never be powerful enough to reach them at such a far distance, and what he had felt through the bond was the same flash as when she had come into contact with her divine self, and by what he had seen of his house and the neighborhood told him that she had used a large amount of her godly power. Had it harmed her? Had she been taken back?

He lurched to action, striding through the room and knocking over the same plain furniture from his old life that stood miraculously put together.

"Acacia!" He yelled, pausing for an answer, and when he received none he went further into his panicked fueled daze.

He paced out of their room and into his parents, having to stop for a short moment as he was assaulted by images of himself as a young child, running into their room for comfort in the middle of the night when he was plagued my nightmares. His dad would pull him onto their bed and his mom would envelop him in her arms, her floral scent surrounding him in comfort, and he would snuggle into her.

There was no one to comfort him now when he woke up in the middle of the night to scenes of his dead sister.

"Acacia!"

He trudged further, looking under the bed for her, in the closet. He was surprised when their clothes were not too in place. The furniture and structure stood, but it was empty, gone was the life he had once known. But that was a fact he had grown accustomed to for quite some time now.

He stomped out of the room, down the hall; heart racing as he looked to the kitchen, a hazy blur of memories from when he had showed Alana to cook swirled in his head.

He hesitated before flinging open the cupboards, wondering if she could somehow have fit into them. She was thin but tall, willowy. He doubted her long frame could fit into one of them, but he still checked, still called her name. But she wasn't in a single one, not in a single corner, and as he rummaged through the rest of the house, flinging objects throughout, he found no sign of her.

"Acacia!"

He bounded out of the house and glanced at the surrounding houses. There would be no reason for her to wander into them, but the nagging voice in the bag of his head said that he had to check every possible option. He hurtled into them, carelessly fumbling through their rooms and possessions, but there was no sign of her, no sign of life.

He ran down the stone trail that led into the ghost of a city. His body tense as he neared the building that once had been town hall and another that had been their medical center, one of the most developed sections of the town. He entered the town square, rubble and ash throughout it, and he could see his parents burning in front of them, hear their screams. Somewhere in all of the debris, there they lied.

He clasped his hands over his ears and clenched his eyes shut and ran from it all, leaping over wreckage and hurtling down the paved road. He passed the remains of the market; saw the charred remains of what once had been stands and foods and trinkets and clothes. He tripped over a pile of rocks, what once had been the fountain, and grounded out a few curses as he scraped his hands and arms. He got up to his feet again and pushed, the world tumbling out of focus as he ran and ran and ran. Farther and farther away from all of the ghosts.