Epilogue
Four Years Later
Darkness, deprived, depleted, anorexic and shivering. The thing could only writhe and wallow in the perfect blankness of its grave. It had no limbs no mouth, perhaps it only imagined having those things. One it may have even been female. Once it might even have had a name. It had forgotten over the years.
"Will she be in there forever?" A little girl asks softly staring down into the pit where the sexless monster writhes, uncomprehending of those standing above it.
"No." A man says softly and puts an affectionate hand on the little girl's skinny shoulder. "Just a long time yet."
It blinks icy blue eyes, half aware but wholly wild and not knowing they were above, a few feet above its very head. It could not hear, nor taste, nor smell beyond the grave dirt that invaded its insides, becoming part of its flesh and mind and lingering things that may still be…be…
"A very long time." The man says voice barely above a whisper.
"Why are you showing me this?" The little girl coughs into her fist, sick shivers wrack her skinny frame and the sight of the creature only makes her feel worse, as if the grave dirt were lodged in her own throat.
"She's an example." The man said glaring down at the writhing thing. "No one disobeys my word, no one of my House will defy me."
The girl curls an arm around the man's thigh. She thinks she will never defy her new father who plucked her from the ice, filth and darkness of slavery and cured her sickness. "Can we go?"
It can not see the trees on the surface, the grave stones, the bright blue summer skies above, bathing the girl and man in brilliant light. The little girl sighs.
The man speaks with his mind, shaping a name that slithers through the air and penetrates the earthy prison, Oh, Celsia…
"Come." He holds out his hand and the little girl takes hold of it.
In another state a worried father sits beside his son's bed and watches the boy while he sleeps. Floral print sheets tucked beneath his chin, his small fingers clasp the fabric as he dreams. His small mouth trembles, forming silent screams.
A woman stands in the doorway, grey eyes swirl like storms, arms crossed in front of her chest, a blood red Isis stone winks and a subtle spell emanates from the ruby facets but has no effect on the man.
"No one has to know." The man whispers as he has many times on nights like this, cornflower blue eyes bleak and inconsolable.
"Let him sleep." Comes the woman's reply.
He lifts his eyes to the doorway, he looks through her. "Leave."
The boy shivers in his nightmares and his mouth forms the word mommy. The woman leaves the room without saying another word.
The man touches his son's brow and watches it crease but the boy remains asleep. "Sweet dreams, Daniel." He whispers and magic flows from his hand to ease the boy's distress.
Across town. A girl with bubblegum pink hair raises a mic to her lips. She stares out at the bright eyes of the crowd, looks trough them, her eyes soulless. She opens her mouth to speak. "This is The Descent."
End