Anathema
prologue
On the fringes of the smoldering crater where the Moon that Never Sets had been destroyed only hours prior, a weary figure moved amongst the burning debris, choking on the smoke and soot that still lingered in the air from the cataclysmic explosion. The trembling form crawled slowly across the steaming, ashen dirt, stilling every couple of moments to cough up the contaminants that hovered above the ground as a thick, suffocating haze of grey. It invaded the throat like a dry fire, burning the lungs and leaving a sulfurous taste on the tongue.
Squinting and shielding their eyes from the dust carrying on the stale and heated wind, the dark shape inched their way farther over the scorched, lifeless ground, the tattered remains of their clothing saturated in a mix of blackened soil and blood. The minutes that passed seemed infinite, the figure painfully pulling themselves along, but giving pause as a faint shimmer only a small ways off caught their eye.
Hands and knees scraped against shards of burnt and broken stone as the battered form scrambled over to the object, a crimson-soaked arm stretching out shakily to scoop it up into their grip as soon as it was within reach. Despite the cinders it was laying among, it was cool to the touch, what little light that made it through the dust clouds glinting with a dim wink off its glossy surface.
Clutching the item tightly in their quivering grasp, a long and tired breath silently escaped through split, bleeding lips, eyes slipping shut and body slumping to the rocky crater floor. And in reaction to being held, the smooth, palm-size gem resonated with a dull, dark violet glow.
