Goddess Of Ashes and Sun

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT (Titus)

My throat was burning.

I couldn't breathe.

Panic was swelling in my chest, threatening to burst.

I tried to move, but something was hindering me from doing so. I pushed harder and whatever it was rolled off me.

I tried to rub the dirt out of my eyes, but everything was covered in it.

I was suffocating. I sat up straight, trying to remain calm and I waited for my vision to clear.

"Hello?" I tried to call but my voice was nothing more than a broken rasp.

Then my eyes adjusted and I saw the horrors before me.

It wasn't dirt. It was ash. It was like I was in a completely different place. There was nothing but rubble and ashes. Panic took a hold of me and I stumbled forward, frantically searching.

"Grey? Clyde? Amond? List? Pharaoh?!"

Tears began streaming down my face.

"ANYONE?!" I screamed.

My foot hit something soft and I looked down and saw a body. Or what was left of it. His eyes had melted into his burnt skull. His flesh was charred and glued to his bones. His pick was melted to his skeletons back.

They were all dead. Burned. Pharaoh's body lay before me, just one of many in this ash-filled graveyard.

Something moved behind me and I turned to see Shea on her knees next to a body with wisps of wavy red hair. Her face was stone cold, her eyes lifeless; staring at something I could never see.

"You," I rasped out. My throat was so dry, like sandpaper.

She didn't acknowledge me. I sat down heavily. If I survived, surely someone else must have. My vision blurred and tears began to shower. A broken scream escaped my lips and I buried my face in my hands.

This wasn't how it was supposed to end. She was supposed to kill him and only him.

I looked up but Shea was still staring into space. Anger welled up and mixed with the panic in me. Her fault. My whole family was dead, because of her.

She dropped her gaze down to Loki's limp body. Something like confusion crossed her face. She scrambled to her feet, staring in horror at the disaster around her. She pointed a finger at herself.

"Did, did I...?" her voice broke.

I nodded.

Her face contorted. She stumbled, dry sobs escaping her mouth. "No no no no no."

A hand grabbed my shoulder and I turned to see.

"Chester," I whispered.

He sat down next to me, his golden eyes nothing more than sticky pools in their sockets. I let out a choking sound and fell into his arms. Or what was left of them.

Shea fell to her knees again. She began to sob; running her fingers through the ashes around her. And then she screamed, her voice a broken chorus of pain and confusion.

We had to fix this, we had too.

I'd die trying, but we would come back from this.

We had too.

TO BE CONTINUED.