MELITA
One moment, they were whirling, twirling in time to the music, and laughter pooled, rang, cascaded from her lungs, beckoning siren antics filled with flower petals and daffodil airs – a time of joy after the sorrow, after the anguish, after every other god damned thing – Gone within a moment, within a collective gasp, within a chilling rankling down her spine, head snapping in the direction of cacophony and terror. Because she’d gone through this before, even if they weren’t mud monsters. Because her world had fallen apart at the seams once, amongst false gods and pariahs, amongst their cherished deities, people, places, loved ones, split into pieces and portions of dust. She wanted to scream but nothing came out – an impulse to look for others, for her hands to clench around her staff, to reach out for Fangorn and run.
Her mother was already gone. Her sister was already gone. And now – how many more of them would suffer?
She raced forward, uncertain what she could do to assist, uncertain of how to do anything except fight. She would have, she would have, she would have, if she’d been close enough, if she’d been capable of seeing Sunjata in its clutches or Phoebe striving to save, but then there was only volleying mud, ice, and rocks, flying, blistering shrapnel rampaging forth. The honeybee youth, distracted by a crowd growing nearby (was that Remi and Aoife? Were they okay?), sought their notions, their expertise, directions hailed and hollered all over the place, when a stone pummeled her, square in the shoulder.
Its size, its speed, its ferocity walloped her, and she was down on the ground, within the muck, the stomping feet, within an instant, a fiery pain brandishing through her bones. Broken? Was it broken? She thrashed for a moment, irritated, annoyed, and agonizing, the anguish suddenly splitting over her senses, overwhelming, overflowing through her mind, her breath shortened, as she rose to sit up. Not fast enough, not quick enough, hand shaking towards her shoulder, unware, not processing anything else around her. And was assaulted, sieged upon all over again, another weighted rock falling upon her shin, a resounding crack and expanding echo of agony, torture, and torment blistering through her soul.
Not here suddenly crackled within her. I’m not going to die here. Not like this.
Trembling, shuddering, she wouldn’t be able to get up or stand, forcing herself to at least crawl, wind like a snake through the earth, maybe find someone who could heal – she could hear Loren screaming in the distance, she could see a multitude of others somewhere nearby, but there were others far more barbed and maimed than she. She ground her elbows into the soil and moved, snarling, growling, crying, screaming, Fangorn hissing and grumbling nearby, attempting to get anyone’s attention, but the girl’s brow furrowed, not about to be done in.
--
Melita’s crawling through the field with some broken bones.
You're all gonna watch me
Disappear into the sun
Disappear into the sun
