Music Choices: Helvegen by Wardruna
Eclipse
Chapter 31
The Road
"Who shall sing for me
When on the path to Hel I go?"
...
Do you see it?
Raven's eyes cracked open sluggishly. She felt detached from everything around her. Apathetic. Her memories weren't making much sense, either. Nothing felt linear anymore. She felt like she could go in a million directions at once, and still be aware. Almost like the worst of her panic attacks, but there was no crushing terror.
Instead, time simply felt….fluid.
She remembered that she had been having a panic attack, actually. She'd also been in a lot of pain; then she'd gotten cold and after that things had become rather suspect. How long has she been standing here? Forever? Two seconds?
She blinked slowly, almost painfully, and with massive effort, glanced down at her feet. She realized with equal torpor that she was looking down at her own body.
She wasn't afraid of it, or the blood that was coating everything in range. It was just...there.
Meanwhile, Taiyang was furiously trying to get her heart started again. Chest compressions to a count of thirty; two big breaths. Sweat running down his tanned brow as he started over and over again.
She couldn't hear what he was saying, or what Summer was sobbing desperately some distance away as she tried to help someone else who wasn't responding.
Qrow. Qrow wasn't responding, no matter what Summer did.
But Raven knew, somehow, that Qrow was not actually dying or dead.
She was, though.
She was dead as a doornail.
Something on her left shoulder, like a heavy, clawed hand resting there. It wasn't frightening, or at least, Raven wasn't afraid. The weight was actually comforting, and familiar in a way she couldn't name. She could see a feathery arm, leading back and into darkness where she knew that, if she followed...there was no coming back from.
That darkness looked far more inviting than the terrible mess at her feet. She could hear it's song, calling her by name, calling her home. Gentle, without judgement or anger or sorrow. It was a path she could follow safely and not get lost from; her people were safe in the dark, because they did not fear it.
She wanted to sink into it, and never look back. Because she had never realized how utterly exhausted with living she was. Even the thought of getting back up again at this point seemed cruel and unfair.
Really. What was even the point?
None of that child. Today is not your day. Now. Look up , little bird.
Raven forced her eyes to move, roving slowly upwards. Past the frantic movements of Taiyang and Summer, that were both too fast and too slow to resonate with her or have any meaning.
She could see the stars, above the Valish skyline; they were all on top of a building apparently, where Summer had used her Semblance to pull her and Qrow.
Past all of that lay Beacon, both shining and ominous. Looking down on them all, while calling to them at the same time. A shining lure, bobbing against the violet. Blinding them all.
Do you see it?
Raven squinted instinctively. For a moment, she could see...something. As if a veil had lifted, a hand had tipped and she could see past the hundreds of thousands of little white lies that clouded the air with smoke and pretty illusions to cover the ash and tragedy.
She could see the gears, spinning. Grinding. Crushing. The gears were gold, resplendent, but gods, they were soaked in blood and marrow and they glowed all the brighter for it. A million names and a million corpses and a million stolen fates, being torn and ripped bloodily from the fabric of the world and woven into a machine so vile, so putrid, that Raven could not bear the sight of it.
She was suddenly terrified. As if a bolt had struck her from above and driven into her dead heart; her dead heart, which, for the love of Dust, was beginning to hurt .
The veil closes once again. But one day, you will remember how to see.
Raven fell to her knees, clutching her heart. It was agony. Her chest felt like it was on fire; and she realized, with some chagrin, that this is what living felt like.
Life hurt .
No wonder the Grimm were all so afraid of it.
The Wyrd-thief weaves his webs, but his time approaches. And his tower? Shall burn.
She felt the air in her mouth, the heat. It scalded her lungs and filled her with euphoria all at the same time. She drank it all in.