A/N: Warnings for this chapter: Allusions of suicide, slightly gory imagery - Crowe's part. Skip to "Everyone died here..."
Chapter 7
The view was calming. Waves crashed at the bottom of the cliff in a steady tempo that reminded Crowe of a heartbeat. The deep blue sky spread ahead and in front of her, merging seamlessly into the ocean at some point on the horizon. The salty air was heavy with moisture and the iron of blood. (She knew this place.)
Birds were gliding effortlessly on the winds, occasionally plunging into the ocean to fetch their dinner with an excited call. Some reappeared with food (a human arm, fingers, never any fish) while others took back to the sky without having found anything. Crowe stretched her arms above her head as she kicked her heels on the rocks.
Her hands sunk back into the stream of blood surrounding her, flowing over her legs as it dripped off the cliff drop by drop. (Why? Why was there so much blood? Where were the others?) Part of her wanted to turn around and see where it all came from and yet she didn't. Why would she? It was only blood. It probably came from hunters cleaning their catch upstream. (NO! There was too much of it! The blood was too warm! Why?)
A voice caught her attention. "Crowe! There you are. We've been looking for you." A bird hovered right in front of her, beating its wings steadily to stay right there, looking straight at her. "It's time to come home, Firecracker. Come on now before night falls." (Mom? Is that you?)
Crowe tilted her head slightly to one side, the fog growing in her mind, growing as she tried to place why the voice was so familiar. A second bird moved to fly beside the first one. It opened its beak, another voice joining in. "Look at you! You're covered in mud. Were you playing with your brothers again?" (Mama? No… They're dead.)
"Hey Crowe! Come on already! Libs and I are waiting. You've got to hurry up and join us." Another bird flocked to the duo, the voice recognized instantly as Nyx's. Crowe stopped rocking her legs and straightened. Well if Nyx was saying she should go ahead then it would be ok, right? Nyx and Libs would never steer her wrong. (It's not them! Don't listen to them!)
A fourth bird wafted down to land beside Crowe, its beak grooming her (ruffling her hair like Libs does when he's being a pain) for a bit before it, too, spoke. "It's fine Crowe, you don't have to do anything big. Just push a little and you'll be flying with us. That's one of your dreams ain't it? To fly as free as a bird?" Libertus' voice was so confident, so caring.
Crowe put her feet flat against the cliff side, her arms tensing as she leaned forward a bit. Waves crashed against the giant boulders beneath her. (No! No! No! This was wrong! I know this place!)
(Everyone died here...)
Crowe closed her eyes tightly, her breath stuttering as she clung tightly to that thought. Slowly she found herself questioning more and more of her surroundings. She knew it, had lived at the edge of this cliff for most of her childhood until the Storm.
A storm that had ravaged all of Galahd and sent this very cliff, along with close to 1km of land and the town within that distance, crashing down in a terrible mudslide. Crowe had been forced to crawl her way out of the mud and rocks, over the remains of her family, friends and neighbours.
Her hands twitched in half-remembered pain and she found herself checking that her nails were still intact. Crowe sighed in relief. It was only memories, nothing more than bad memories that she wouldn't dwell on.
The birds still called to her but Crowe paid them no mind. She had to find It. That place was important. (Why? Where were her friends? She'd been with them moments ago. Hadn't she?) Crowe looked around until her gaze found the Tower. Lightning struck it several times in quick succession before there was a long pause before it repeated.
That was her goal. (The Tower... It looked familiar but where had she seen it?)
Crowe gathered her magic in the palm of her hand and threw it behind her. The smell of burning birds was quickly chased away by the refreshing seaside breeze. "Now to find out why I'm here," Crowe muttered as she took her first steps into the jungle. (She knew why she was there so why couldn't she remember the words?)
The jungle was thick with humidity and Crowe enjoyed the taste of it on her tongue as she made her way deeper into it. Brightly-coloured fruits joined brightly-coloured birds among the low-hanging branches and tree tops. (She remembered the sweetness of biting into a ripe orange. The stickiness of its juices all over her hands.) The jungle was vibrant with noises just as she remembered it.
All exactly the same.
Except for the Tower.
Somehow, Crowe could see it through the thick canopy of branches and vines. She never lost track of it despite not being able to see the sky as she tossed vines out of the way. It stood, being struck by lightning again and again, high above everything else but also smaller than the tallest tree. (That shouldn't be possible. It was a contradiction. But she knew it was both true. Where was she?)
It never seemed to get any closer either. It towered above Crowe regardless of how far she walked towards it. "Ifrit's balls…. Maybe I need to warp to it?" She whispered to herself, wiping the sweat from her brow. The jungle was too thick to warp properly so she would need to get up higher and move from treetop to treetop.
Crowe grasped the first branch, testing its strength before actually putting her weight on it. she climbed, slowly and carefully through the foliage. Then, as she reached up to grab the next branch, her hand brushed against something soft and furry. She looked up.
The coeurl jumped down, whiskers crackling with lightning.
Libertus hummed to himself as he wiped the glass clean and put it to dry on the counter. The oven timer ticked down the minutes until his roast was done and ready to be divided for the evening rush, one he expected would be double what their little bar usually received. He could hear Nyx's laughter from the front as he talked with some of their regulars about the festival and the latest gossip.
Sometimes, Libertus thought his friend gossiped more than the little old ladies that gathered every morning in the village market to talk. The radio suddenly crackled with static. Libertus frowned and reached out to smack it. It stopped, went silent for a few seconds before the static returned louder this time. "Stupid thing." Smack. "Why is it not working? If that moron bought a defective one I'm going to strangle him." Smack, smack, smack, crack. "Shit!"
Libertus swore wildly as the radio suddenly cracked, sending sparks flying out until he was able to yank the plug out of the wall. The silence didn't last long as his oven timer started beeping, jerking Libertus out of his angry rant in order to save his precious roast. (Nyx should have been back here laughing at him.)
The roast now out of the oven and cooling, Libertus grabbed the radio and headed out into the bar with the intention of chucking the damn thing at Nyx's head and telling his idiotic best friend to buy another one. One that worked! "Oy Nyx!" Libertus pushed the swinging doors open with one hand, half listening to the conversations and laughter that would greet him as soon as he walked in.
The bar was empty.
Libertus paused, eyes darting from side to side with a growing frown. He could hear Nyx, Tredd and that annoying hunter that was always trying to recruit Nyx, chatting merrily from somewhere but they weren't in the bar. Their prized bar, with the 50 bottles of liqueur and dozen tables packed tight, was empty of ife. Even the lights above the bar top were dark. (Had Nyx gotten into a fight again? Libs was going to throttle him himself if that was the case.)
He dropped the broken radio on one of the tables and headed out to drag Nyx back in before the rush started. The door of their bar, worn smooth by countless hands pushing it open, fought against his touch for a few moments before it swung open with a groan. Libertus frowned, did it need to be oiled? Hadn't Nyx done so a couple of days ago? (Nyx had. Libertus remembered him trying to clean the mess up when the can spilled.)
Libertus added it to his growing mental list of "Things Nyx has to do" and stepped through the door. He took a deep breath, ready to tear into Nyx only for his breath to catch in his throat. It felt like he'd been plunged into a cold bath.
The streets, decorated from the festival with lanterns, ribbons, and artful beasts, were as empty as the bar had been. Libertus took a few steps forward, eyes darting from one side to the other in search of anyone. (He could still hear them! Why? Where were they?) The streets remained empty of life even as Libertus heard Crowe's voice telling a crude joke then laughing with others at the punchline.
His heart pounding in his chest, Libertus hurried towards them. At first he walked, turning each corner with the expectation of seeing them there, ready to laugh at Libertus for his worry. Then he started jogging, his eyes glancing into each house, each store in a desperate search for a sign -any sign- that someone else was around.
They were all empty.
Libertus screamed, "Nyx! Crowe! Pelna! Answer me!" The voices grew louder, less distinct, as Libertus approached the market place. Voices, both familiar and unfamiliar, spoke and laughed. He caught words here and there, speaking of the festival, of the village, of Galahd. Still he saw no one.
Then a scream.
Piercing and terrified, it lasted just long enough for Libertus to realise what direction it was coming from (The official entrance of their home, guarded at all times by retired hunters to deter beasts). before it cut out, plunging everything into a bone chilling silence. Libertus stumbled to a stop.
More screams erupted, surrounding Libertus with pleas, curses and shouts.
"Libs! Run!" Nyx's voice said from the other side of the wall.
"Help, Libs!" Crowe's plea came from behind him.
Pelna's voice mixed with Tredd's furious scream. "We're under attack! Where's Libs? Why isn't he helping?"
"Coward!" "Betrayer!" "Clan traitor!"
Libertus stumbled to his knees, slamming his hands over his ears in a vain attempt to quiet the voices. It does nothing to help. The screams got louder, mixing together into an incoherent stream of sound.
Blood splashed against him, an invisible warmth that broke Libertus. (Blood! So much blood! The Lucis King fighting against soldiers. Bodies of friends, of family drenching their ancestral home with their life.)
Libertus ran, magic flaring at his fingertips. Lightning and fire destroying everything around him. He only had one thought in his mind. Revenge. He turned a corner.
7 coeurls blocked his path, their whiskers soaked in blood.
Libertus never saw the 8th.
A/N: Please leave a review :)