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Dust, duty, and death

2025-07-10 19:02:23

With a heavy thud, the shovel cut into the ground. Marcus let out a breath as he pressed the metal further into the ground, his muscles tensing with every motion, the ground damp and cold under his boots. His hands were already scorched, even though the grave wasn't very deep yet.

He continued. A neglected clearing in the woods behind the old training house, where Chronos had once taught him how to carry a sword and how to hold his tongue was illuminated by the sun's drab rays as it had just begun to rise. Not a servant. Not a guard. Only Marcus. And the quiet.

He stopped when the hole was sufficiently deep, the world still around him, the perspiration still clinging to his back beneath his shirt. He looked at the white linen-wrapped body next to him, respectfully and neatly tied. Chronos had detested luxury.

"The loudest funerals are for the ones who didn't listen when they were alive," he had always said.

Marcus gripped the edge of the grave and gulped hard. He whispered, "You

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Diana’s New Reality
Diana remained silent. She was unable to. The white sheet covering her grandfather's face billowed slightly in the breeze as his body was pushed into the chilly storage room, and she remained motionless. "Deceased: Authorized Personnel Only" was prominently displayed on the door. However, it might as well have said "No Going Back to Diana.” The nurse by the entrance was interrupted by the two men wheeling the gurney. She hardly heard them. Her gaze was focused on the lone bare hand that was visible through the sheet; it was creased, recognizable, and still. She had once been lifted when she fell by the same hand. When she questioned why the moon never slept, it was the same hand that proudly gestured to the stars. It simply rested now. Like it didn't have anything else to do on this planet. Before she heard the last hollow thud of the doors locking, she turned before they closed.After a few minutes, Diana left the hospital in silence, refusing to answer the nurses' attempts to
The Room after
It was suddenly too quiet in the room. Too still. With her fingers still gripping his hand as though she could hold on long enough to bring him back, Diana remained motionless. However, he had vanished. Additionally, a flat, piercing tone had long since replaced the heart monitor's continuous, sharp beep. It sounded louder than it ought to have. One that slashed through the silence like a terrible memory. She reached cautiously for the call button by the bed, her throat burning. Thumb shaking, she pressed it once. The nurse entered as the door softly opened a few seconds later. Before she even spoke, her look spoke all. The woman whispered, "Miss Sterling, I'm so sorry." "Want to have a little time before we... before we take him?" Diana remained silent. She was unable to. She gave a faint nod. After a moment of hesitation, the nurse approached the bed and covered his motionless face with a clean white sheet. Diana's fingers pressed into her coat sleeve as she observed the move
Dust, duty, and death
With a heavy thud, the shovel cut into the ground. Marcus let out a breath as he pressed the metal further into the ground, his muscles tensing with every motion, the ground damp and cold under his boots. His hands were already scorched, even though the grave wasn't very deep yet. He continued. A neglected clearing in the woods behind the old training house, where Chronos had once taught him how to carry a sword and how to hold his tongue was illuminated by the sun's drab rays as it had just begun to rise. Not a servant. Not a guard. Only Marcus. And the quiet. He stopped when the hole was sufficiently deep, the world still around him, the perspiration still clinging to his back beneath his shirt. He looked at the white linen-wrapped body next to him, respectfully and neatly tied. Chronos had detested luxury. "The loudest funerals are for the ones who didn't listen when they were alive," he had always said. Marcus gripped the edge of the grave and gulped hard. He whispered, "You
The Only Reason
Except the wall clock's gentle ticking and the occasional ruffle of the curtains the breeze pushed through the slightly cracked window, the room was still. Sarah's silk robe slid smoothly over her bare legs as she sat cross-legged on her spacious canopy bed. The beautiful rose-gold tone of the cloth complemented the soft colors of her bedroom, which included blush accents, ivory walls, and a delicate chandelier that threw warm light glints over her vintage vanity table and bookshelves. A velvet sleep mask lay on the bedside, forgotten, and her hair was unbound, cascading down her back in soft waves. She hadn't slept. Not at all. Not since Marcus's departure. Her eyes strayed to the unfinished teacup next to her bed. chilly. Similar to the quiet that had surrounded her all day. A lot had transpired. Too much. She detested the weight in her chest, the anticipation, the uncertainty, and the pain that accompanied comprehending how profoundly a person's absence could reverberate thro
For Her
As if they were weary of hearing, the candles flickered low, their flames slender and twitchy. The tiny subterranean room felt chilly, not only from a lack of heat but also from aging. The stone walls were wet with ancient wetness, and dust clung to the corners. Chalk was used to draw a circle of black runes on the floor, almost smeared by too many pacing feet. With his coat still on and the sleeves stretched past his forearms, Harrison sat by himself in the room, his creases as sharp as if he hadn't slept in days. His brown hair hung freely across his forehead, his shirt was half-buttoned, and his boots were dirty. He appeared to be a man who had lost the ability to sleep. The crystal, dark and slightly humming, was perched on an ancient marble pedestal in the center of the room. He crossed his arms and clenched his jaw as he peered at it. He whispered, "I know you're still in there." His voice reverberated a little. They believe you posed a threat. that you were a thing that h
Don't Walk Away
She didn't knock. Sarah opened his door as soon as she got there; it was too loud and too quick, as if he might vanish if she waited another second. Half-hunched over his duffel bag, Marcus stood close to his bed. He had his back to her. The strap was gripped in one hand. The other lay on a shirt that he hadn't packed yet, folded. He paused at the sound of the door. He straightened slowly and glanced over his shoulder. They looked at each other. He seems unsurprised. She didn't appear composed. With a tighter voice than she intended, she questioned, "Are you leaving?" With a quiet sigh, he turned to look at her. "I intended to inform you." "When?" Her voice became piercing. "After you left my pillow with a note? Or should another maid have told me?” Marcus ran a hand down his face and looked away. “Sarah…” "No," she replied as she entered and closed the door. "No more silent departures. Stop acting like none of this is important.”He didn't answer. She examined the bag. Not ful

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Latest Chapter

Diana’s New Reality

The Room after