Lumeriss 13th, at dawn of the first day of light.
The gods, old and new, lie fallen.
The skies have blackened, and the weather has turned predator.
Man and Other have allied — the world's fate will be decided on this final stand.
"Brothers," he called.
I closed my pen and looked up at the General. Silence tightened as we waited for his command.
"The time has come," he intoned, his voice reverberating off the rugged stone.
He descended from the dais with a massive creature at his heels — a living shadow of bone and writhing human hands that crushed the stone beneath it.
I whispered, "A torso like a bear's..."
Silence fell — then distant screams from above — and the ceiling trembled as if about to collapse.
The General strode past, leading us forward.
I gathered my pack and saddled my horse.
A voice called, "Soldier."
I answered, "Peasant."
We laughed. Leina — my friend — rode beside me.
"Hugor Brandley — the man of a hundred tales," Leina teased.
"A hundred and one." I held up my battered journal like proof.
"Truly a man of talent." She smiled; torches bobbed in the dark as we mounted.
The march stretched on. Only the Light guided us; with every step the world filled more with screams, explosions, and roars.
Some brothers wept; others set their faces like stone. Still, we marched on.
I pressed my pendant to my chest and thought of my beloved and every lucky face I'd known.
A sudden rumble shook the cavern and the ceiling fell; I braced, but nothing hit me.
When I opened my eyes the world had changed — colors vivid and saturated, like a different realm laid over ours.
"We will not die here," the General declared, drawing his sword.
The creature wrapped its arms about us and tore the colors asunder with a crackling sizzle.
"Hugor," Leina asked. "Why did you write so many stories?"
Her face went still; her hands shook on the reins.
"Because my son loved them. He was too sick to see the world, so I promised I'd see it for him."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"Do not be. He stopped reading long ago — hard to find anyone who wants stories these days."
"That's because most people can't read."
"True," I laughed; she smiled in reply.
"I hope I get to read it someday."
"...maybe you will," I said softly.
The creature's arms split and glowed; sparks leapt from every touch as the rumble swelled into a deafening roar.
People clamped hands over their ears, struggling to steady panicked horses.
Then an impossible calm filled our minds and the noise fell away.
We watched the General as blood on his hand thinned into drifting spores.
"Brothers. You have seen the world above — the home we once knew. Even from this depth you can hear your people's cries, your children's cries."
He smeared his bleeding hand on the blade; the sword flared as spores pulsed in the air.
He stared into the fire as if reading a verdict.
"We may not survive. Does that make our fight meaningless? Shall we beg as our enemy poisons the air and burns our homes?"
His gaze swept each of us in turn.
"There will be no mercy, no escape. Here lies our future — here we will seize it."
One by one we plunged our hands into the torches, letting fire and spores fuse on our skin.
We absorbed it — light cracked along our skin to our faces, our eyes burning brilliantly.
Elves played flutes, stone giants thumped their chests, and we raised our voices in song.
Our horses shed hide and sprouted wings; the General was swallowed by flame.
"It was an honor to stand and fight with you all."
We drew weapons. A flash of Light split the cavern — the ceiling exploded outward.
For the first time in many years, I saw the sky.
"CHARGE!" we roared.
We surged out into swarms of dragons and beasts, giants and demons, mutants and monsters of every kind.
We unleashed our magic and slashed through anything that barred us.
We fought to reach those we loved.
Hope is cruel — and I am damned.
A cold wind cut through snow and dust.
"Ten years," I murmured.
I brushed the tombstone. "Bet I'd have been taller than you by now..."
I stared at the carving: Kuroshita Naoki — 2007 — and placed the flowers on the stone.
"Blue vincas. Just the way you liked them."
I pulled away the withered blooms, clasped my hands, and prayed.
For mercy, for love, for better days.
"Happy birthday, Dad," I said.
I rose, brushed snow from my sleeves, and walked to the station, singing under my breath.
I sang softly: "Memories of you, memories of me — one day I'll find you under the berry tree and write a song the whole world can see..."
Crowds funneled through the station — students, workers, tourists. The train pulled away; the city smeared past the snow-streaked window.
I rubbed my hands. I should have worn gloves.
"You can use mine," the voice beside me offered, holding out a glove.
I accepted the glove.
"Oh—thank y—" I faltered. "Sai-chan?"
She giggled. "Colder than you thought, huh, Miya?"
"Well, yeah..." I said, sliding on the glove. "What are you doing here?"
"Same as you. Trying to get to school before the snow gets worse."
"How's that working out?"
"Shut up," she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
The glove fit perfectly against my hand. "S—"
A phone rang: rrring, rrring.
"Sorry," she murmured, pulling out her phone. "Hello? Yes... sorry, I woke up late..."
She sounded flustered; probably her parents.
Light played across her face, softening her smile, brightening her eyes, giving her lips a shine.
"No, I'm okay. Thanks."
I snapped a photo.
Sai-chan's head snapped toward me; I'd taken another picture.
She mouthed, "...why—no, not you," but she didn't move to stop me.
I scrolled the photos as my phone buzzed — an unknown number I'd labeled.
"Hello?" I answered.
"Hey — are you free tonight?" a girl's voice asked.
"Not really. What's up?"
"My friends and I are going skating at the square. Wanna come?"
"Sure. I'll be there at nine."
"Okay. See you then."
She hung up. I pocketed the phone as a gentle chime played overhead.
The speaker announced, "Next stop: Roppongi."
I deleted the number, the train slowed, and I tucked my phone away.
"Work?" she asked.
"Yeah."
The automated voice repeated, "We are arriving at Roppongi."
The doors slid open and people spilled onto the platform while Sai-chan and I waited for the crowd to thin.
She held out a packet of gum. "Want one?"
"What flavor is it?" I asked.
"Strawberry."
"Sweet," I said.
We laughed while stepping onto the platform.