Aurora lucis

The last thing you remember is the thing in flames, falling, dying and screaming. Being banished. It doesn’t matter any more.
You open your eyes. No psychopomp greets you, so you are still alive, at least.
You sit up, the smell of ash and blood teasing at your nostrils, the enormity of what you’ve done starting to flicker across your mind, before it is derailed by another thought.
Where are the others? You look around frantically, looking for friend, for family.
You see them, most of them, and some of the anxiety melts away. You wave and they come running.
Gnarts is the first to speak.
Half his face is burnt to the bone, but you can guess what he’s asking.
“Have we won?”
You nod weakly, noting the relief in their eyes. The shadows twist and the Walker appears, looking dishevelled but alive.
“Just in time too,” he says, pointing east at the glowing horizon.
The sun starts to rise on a saved world and a few weary friends clinging to its surface, thinking of those they lost to get there.
Victory is theirs.

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