Bloodlines of Archaea I. Afira
The Loss of the World's Light

I woke up the next morning in my own grass bed, with my hair down, jewelry at the stand beside my bed, and my blankets pulled up. My face was hard from dried tears which still burned like a roaring fire. I had never felt more alone. Wishing I could stay locked up in my bedroom until the pain faded away, I threw myself out from under the blankets and walked behind the curtain, pulling on a comfortable top which once had designs of fire from the bottom up, the shirt itself only going until the lower part of my abdomen, keeping my midriff bare. I also pulled on a skirt Grandma Lilly had made of pandannas, which had a cloth with the designs of fire which seemed to be attempting to burn the skirt itself.

I thought of all the things Grandma Lilly had made for me, a feeling of cold, slimy despair seeping through my clothing. I realized how everything she had made for me had some sort of fiery aspect to the design, almost as though she knew of my future, even as a child when she created my very first possession, a blanket with a pattern of flames around the edges which I had given to Akuma one cold night. I stepped out from behind the curtain and took the obsidian crown from the side of my desk. Watching myself in the mirror which stood in front of my wall, I carefully placed the obsidian crown upon my head, and walked from my bedroom, to the dock, walking along the halls which would normally be bright and filled with natural sunlight, but it seemed instead, that the death of Grandma Lilly had made even the morning sky become dim, and depressed, as though the sun would never shine again. I held a bouquet of her favorite flowers in my hands, adding a Water Lilly and a Fire Flower of my own, to complete the set, hoping to symbol our endless bond even death would not deprive us of.

I walked with my head up high, hoping I looked more regal than I felt, biting back the tears which I had fought to keep at bay since I had awoken that morning.

Three people, each wearing robes in black held a large, folded piece of papyrus ran past me, clumsily avoiding bumping into walls, almost tearing down the vines which grew their way up the cobblestone halls which were dim and grey on this day of sadness, after the light in my world had gone out. I walked slowly, and confidently, the way Grandma Lilly had taught me to do the day before I became queen. I followed silently behind the three mysterious villagers, watching as they unfolded the painting and carefully waved it back and forth, presumably to beat any dust out. We were in the hall of rulers, each had been painted with such regality in their stance, even though they were only as old as I, they seemed far more fit to rule than I could ever be. I noticed a space on the wall, where the last Queen’s painting had been. It seemed to have been removed and replaced, for it seemed too new to have been there for the hundred years since the last leader, my great Grandmother, Queen Matagofie, although she had always been called Mata. As I had been lost in thought, I hadn’t noticed the three people in black had hung a painting of me, among the rest of the leaders. I winced at my unfit stance.

I walked outside, onto the dock, where the village had gathered around a boat where Grandma Lilly lied, each placing a traditional bouquet of flowers beside my beloved Grandma Lilly. I lied my own bouquet down, watching her seemingly peaceful slumber, wishing I could hold her hand, and giggle endlessly once more, missing tremendously the way she could make a joke out of anything. I sighed and climbed onto a rock to give a speech, as I realized the village was watching me with curious eyes, to see what I would do next.

“We have lost the most wonderful person,” I began, yelling and choking back tears. “But she would not want us to feel bad for her absence, but instead, celebrate her life. For she is with the Twilight Leaders, now,” someone handed me a bow and an arrow. Lighting the arrow with a torch I continued to yell. “We are the Island of Skyfire, and we will not let our losses define us. We will cherish the memory of Lilly River, as we create new memories.” I took aim with the flaming arrow, and as the rope holding the boat to the dock was cut, I let the arrow fly. It hit the post which held the sail up, towards the wind and eventually, the entire boat was on fire. “May her body find its way to the bottom of the sea, where it may live among all the creatures she loved, and may her spirit be set free, so that she may join the leaders of the twilight, peaceful and content.” Against all the strength I used to keep myself from appearing weak, a single tear broke free. It burned my face as it rolled down the side of my cheek, and I watched the flaming boat float away to sea. “In her words, ’no matter how many times the sun goes down, it always finds its way back here, where it will guide us until the end of time,” I yelled, my voice wavering. I felt like I was drowning. Water seemed to fill my lungs, making me fight for every last breath, I gasped, my last will to keep my tears at bay withering into nothingness as I remembered every cherished moment I had spent with Grandma Lilly.

When I could no longer see the boat which she lied on, and when all but one of my people had gone, I stepped down from the rock I stood upon. Akuma walked over and sat down next to me.

Neither of us said a word, we simply sat in silence watching the ocean at the time of the setting sun, until finally, I said, “I must speak to you.”

At this, he grabbed my hand and pulled me closer, whispering, “not now, and not here. The shadows have ears. Meet me here, at dawn, come alone. I’ll explain everything.” He took one last glance at me as if wondering whether or not I was ready for something. He then ran away, silently and gracefully sliding across the sand.

I called after him. He didn’t turn, so I was left alone on the dock, wishing more than ever before that Grandma Lilly was here for me. All I wanted was for her to hold my hand and say in her sweet voice, “no matter how many times the sun goes down, it always finds its own way back here, where it will guide us until the end of time.” I had always found such words of hers to be comforting and inspiring, as it sparked something inside of me nothing else did, determination… and hope. I continued to repeat such words to myself aloud, until the world grew so dark that only the light of the few torches which sat around the island could guide me back to my home, where I treasured every memory of Grandma Lilly I had, until I fell into a restless and haunted sleep, filled with nightmares and shadows.

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