Her eyes were the color of whispers.
He would never forget them.
They had won a brisk, crushing victory over a terra, rich in crystal deposits. The civilians had been rounded up quickly, set to work in the mines.
He had been laughing, his face open with smiles and grins. His friends were slapping their thighs and pointing at certain characters in the crowd. He glanced over, more in curiosity than anything.
He noticed an abnormality.
One woman was too slow.
Her breathing was too uneven.
She set her pickax down gently, before sitting on the dusty ground. She fell slowly, her heart stopping in one painful moment, before it was...over.
Should he ever have to meet Death, he wished he could meet him the way she had.
He walked over, oblivious to the laughs and snickers from the others.
He nudged the body with his foot.
He felt a tug on his sleeve.
He saw her.
A girl.
The daughter, perhaps.
And her eyes...
She wasn't crying. She wasn't tearing up. She was still, blank, a shadow. Her eyes were silver, transparent, colorless.
The color of clouds at twilight.
He looked around, at the bodies of humans that were beginning to litter the terra.
This was his doing.
Her nothing-tinted eyes pierced him, long after he turned around and walked away, back towards the other Talons.
A haunting.
A truth.
A whisper.