[Flashback] Deathdays

[Lumhai]

The Eighteenth of Summer, 501 AV The warm rain of early summer pattered gently against Black Rock. For every fat drop that fell into the ever-changing canals of the city, another rose in response. Figures moved without haste, enjoying the warm rain. The living ones, at least, enjoyed it. The more lifeless of the residents moved about, as well, but the droplets fell through their bodies to puddles on the black and white tiles of the city streets. Water trickled down Dira’s arms, to pool in small indentations. The statue of her likeness stood eternal watch over the graveyard. Lumhai stood before her, his feet planted wide on the mosaic walkway. Tears glistened, like rainwater, in the young man’s eyes. In stark contrast to the tears a smile split his face. Before leaving their own funeral, his parents had wished him well. Basia, Head Priestess of Dira, had grasped his hand in her own with a smile, and left for the dry of her chapel. Abruptly, Lumhai turned away from the statue. His stride, though short, carried him swiftly away from the statue. With each step, his boots splashed through a thin film of water. Ripples from his footsteps chased him to Dira’s chapel. The door opened easily to his hand. Pews lined an aisle that split the white room in two. Dust settled thick where no worshipers trod, evincing a tomb-like appeal. At the far end of the room, a mass of black broke the unending white. Torchlight flickered over the polished stone altar and statue of Dira. Light reflected off the statue, forming dancing shadows of the pews. Rainwater trickled down Lumhai’s body and collected where he stepped in small puddles. The room was small, and his quick, short strides carried him to the altar. There he stood, reflected weirdly within the black stone of the altar. Despite visiting the Chapel often, for sermons, Lumhai had never before stood so close to this end of the room. “Lumhai,” The voice cut through the silence of the Chapel. “I didn’t expect to see you for several days yet, what brings you here?” Lumhai started at her voice, and lifted his gaze. Only then did he notice that he had fallen to his knees. “Dira.”

[Lumhai]

Basia pursed her lips, but otherwise did not move. “I see.” Though her words evoked understanding; her tone spoke volumes. Doubt. She does not believe me. Lumhai stood, a chill filling his bones. His muscles quaked with the cold, before he gained control. “Please, excuse me, Priestess.” He could feel her eyes on his back as he left. Unconsciously, he quickened his pace. The doors opened at his touch again, and Lumhai was outside again. The rain no longer fell as fast, and instead came down in a gentle drizzle. Tiny drops sprinkled Lumhai’s face, and the cold he felt within the Chapel disappeared. By habit, his eyes found Dira’s Spire. A large clock face gazed across Black Rock. The large chime hand ticked as his gaze settled upon the clock, and the city began to change. As Lumhai began to approach, canals rerouted with the gentle slosh of water. Bridges suddenly spanned new gaps with the gentle ring of tile on tile. Lumhai navigated the changed Black Rock easily. Despite the changes every hour, the city did not change totally. Dira’s Spire and the Watchtower remained the centerpiece of the city. The timepiece on the tower followed Lumhai, an all-seeing eye. Only minutes of walking took Lumhai to his humble abode, the home that had belonged to his parents on days ago. He fumbled with the latchkey until the white-washed door opened into his house. Like many of its neighbors, the home resembled a tomb of white marble. Fresh rushes covered the floor, filling the room with a clean smell. A small hearth set in the far wall held a tidy stack of logs, ready to light. Lumhai’s bed was set against one wall, with a chest at its foot. A table large enough to seat three commanded the center of the room. The door closed behind Lumhai, casting the room into dimness. It was his home now, but without his mother and father, it felt far from it.