Sons of Light and Darkness
vignettes inspired by Willowfly's War of the Shadows
by lost frequencies.
--
i: premonition
Flung into the future against their will, their longings like stardust dissipating across the galaxy.
Only one remains in the calm of interplanetary chaos with hands firmly clasped close to his chest in deep prayer. Visions left unrealised, concealed behind soulful inner eyes. He feels the weight of the universe falling on the young shoulders of ancient warriors at war in a world too distant, too alien to call home.
Oh my sons, Splinter calls out to them in spirit, may your souls prevail.
Choosing not to grieve, the old rat welcomes death like an old friend as it approaches—this dark, eternal blanket; the comforter, the giver of truth, his teacher. Here, high up in the sky, where he hides in the sea of buildings, his mind quickly returns to its present state of consciousness, abandoning all premonitions.
No longer could he hear the war cries from distant planets, see bloodied faces of soldiers and civilians alike, or taste the swirling red dust in the wind at the tip of his tongue. His eyes flutter open, now glinting in the rooftop garden light of dawn. His breath clouds the cold air.
In the light of impending sorrow, Splinter waits, though he knows not who Death has chosen to return home with.
