The Bell Toll.

[Cor]

All is quiet in the temples of Astrum Noir.

Where the temple's towers once stood are now piles of rubble, with limbs of all kinds, missing their original owners. The temple grounds are stained with blood. A blood so red it competed with the sky; the falling sun of that August night was tainting the sky a rose red; if one were new to the world and new to Astrum Noir, they would be quick to assume that the sky was draped in a sheet of spotted velvet. That person would then reach to the sky, hoping to feel the luxurious fabric of the Gods, but would retreat their hands in realization that their objective was oh so far away. Maybe the sky wouldn't be the first thing on their mind, however, due to the carnage that was lying around them. They would possibly be afraid of the mass amount of blood and the town in ruin...or, most likely, they would be the next victim. The next victim, our unsuspecting visitor, would be then thrust into the sky, waiting by the gates of heaven. The sky would open for their soul...a smiling thought.

Not so, today; the sky was thick with the dead souls of innocent victims. They weren't innocent to the victors of the war that just hit it's closure. The victors were happy that the temples were empty, happy that death draped the area like a heavy stage curtain after the show was over. Their enemies were now married to the gates of Hell; kissing the ground, making love to it. The thought of the endless bodies dying carelessly like mistakes made them smile and laugh with a heart of rage. They were winners...they did not reach peace though words, but through brute force. Brute force was so necessary.

- - - - -

She trecked down the broken walkways of Astrum Noir's deserted commons. The blood of the past war had washed away in the town's many rains, snows and floods, though it still bore the scars of war. It was completely empty and quiet. To the rest of Tellus Mater, Astrum Noir was no longer a town where people come to live, but a ruin; a relic, of just how deadly war could be. Her footsteps clomped and panged, the sounds echoing down the destroyed halls of the once-were temples of the town: bom, bom, bom, bom, bom. Her eyes scanned the ruins delicately and effortlessly. All this carnage, she imaged, must have been the genocide of the unknowing people. She paused in her tracks and peered up at the sky. It was a cerulean blue, for some reason. There was a hint of green, yet, green was not a normal color of the sky. Green was the color of dragon blood. She would know; she has personal ties with the dragons of Astrum Noir. With a sigh and a shrug she kept on exploring the eerie remains of one of the most peaceful towns in Tellus Mater's history. Bom, bom, bom, bom, bom. The sound of her footsteps reminded her of a crowd, cheering for her accomplishments. She boasted a cocky smile and floated down the walkway. She assured herself that this place was completely hers.

[sweet_september_of_sorrow]

A child's laughter would cut through the air, wrestling with the clomping of some other's foot steps, and over power it just barely. Alone in a temple, a youth played. Having been abandoned by the only caretakers he'd ever know, the young one had been lost of years. He had come to learn quickly the kindness of strangers, a kindness they normally only showed to children. It was because of this kindness, and because Ian had quickly learned that men and women of the cloth had a greater capacity for this kindness, that the child had found his way to this temple. And obvious mistake since it had been long abandoned, much like himself.

Yet even with no food to be given, or people to offer warmth, he had found shelter, and amusement. Digits moved carefully along one another as he watched the wall, a dog forming from the shadow of his hands. Another bought of laughter escaped the child, only to e abruptly ended by the roar of his stomach. The pains of hunger were beginning to ravage his body. He was not sure of how long it had been since he last ate, but he was sure that life would be short if he didn't find a meal soon.

A smile had transitioned to a frown, was now returning to a grin, his hands once more returning to the wall as he cast a butterfly upon the surface. There was no point in worrying about food, things always had a way of working out for him... most of the time.