Lilah's Story

Illyn walked. This was nothing new to her. She was dirty, sore and bore the wounds of the long trek like the rest but her mind was not thinking about it. That was the advantage she and Neman had over “newer” slaves. They knew when to tune out thinking about the walk and the pain. The trick was to keep the mind active on other things. Illyn was busy counting the number of stiches it took to fix the leg of Neman's pants.

"14, 15, 16..."

Her nose itched, a piece of blonde hair was tickling it. It interrupted her counting. Leaning over towards her hands, Illyn did her best to scratch and not rattle the chain too much or break her pace. One of the slavers seemed a bit more sadistic than she was used to and Illyn did not want him coming at her for a simple annoying itch.

Her eyes watched ahead, keeping an eye to ensure Johno, as she had heard him called did not look over to her. She did not need to worry. Ahead of her, another slave had fallen and she could hear Johno voice yelling for him to get up. The crack of the whip broke the air and the chain slowed as the guards were called for.

Illyn scratched the annoying itch for all it was worth, relieved at the break to do so. Her eyes raised to their surroundings. There was something eerie and unsettling about the ruins. It wasn’t simply the stories she had heard about it. Intact but empty buildings as they entered made it feel as if ghosts were watching them as they walked, bidding them enter if they dared.

The caravan kept going moving further in and as they did more and more slave became nervous. Illyn went back to counting.

"1. 2. 3..."

Now, remnants of structures stuck out of the ground. Large pieces missing giving them the appearance of giant creatures about to devour anything that came near them. Illyn tilted her head mesmerized for a moment by one particular one. The whole building was slightly toppled but there was also a chunk missing out of the one side. This hole gaped open, a great mouth of darkness. Two openings, windows in a bygone time were perfectly positioned, giving the building-creature black absorbing eyes.

Illyn was staring into it and to her the building was looking back. She could almost hear it calling her forward, calling her to her death. She frowned, blond eyebrows furrowing on tanned skin. Something was wrong. The chain was suddenly heavier.

Illyn pulled her gaze from the building and looked to those in front of her again. Her mind worked to play catch up to her eyes. Slaves, on the ground. No, not just slaves, slavers too. She worked to comprehend just what she was seeing. It made no sense. As more dropped, Illyn was forced to the ground. She tried to look behind her. Neman had been chained there. Maybe he had an idea of what was going on, saw something as she was staring into the building.

Her brother lay on the ground. Illyn blinked. He must have collapsed under the weight as she had. Neman wasn't on his knees though. His body was contorted, crumpled and misshapen from how he had landed as if he simply dropped or collapsed. Trying to turn Illyn grabbed hold of the chain in front of her. She attempted to drag the body and chain in order to aid her movement. There was too much weight and she too weak. She huffed slightly in annoyance.

“Neman...wake...wake up....” Her voice was low and hushed, a habit from conversing with him when others might be listening. “Neman...”

Illyn kept trying to pull on the chain. She needed to see her brother. They had never been apart, he had always protected her. He couldn't just be dead, not after the years they had endured. Not without a logical reason for his death. Illyn could hear but did not understand the sounds of gunfire. She didn’t understand anything at that moment. Nothing seemed to make sense.

Illyn grabbed the chain again. Her hands wrapped themselves around the links and pulled. This time it moved and allowed her to turn towards her brother. The shackles rubbed but she didn’t care. “No...”

Someone was yelling from the front of the line but she wasn’t able to hear it clearly. Her mind was too preoccupied and new noises made distinguishing words harder. New screams rang out. Illyn looked up from Neman’s corpse, angered slightly that people were making so much noise that it was making it hard for her to think. She was struck immediately at how few slaves were still alive. Looking towards the front of the line there was a commotion going on.

Head’s were looking into the ruins, the chain was being pulled on and Illyn simply watched it all. Those that she could see, at least three other slaves were watching some the ruins and frantically trying to escape. Blue eyes were wide as she watched the scavenger emerge from the ruins. “From the pit of demons....they are coming for us.” She felt oddly calm as she watched certain death come for the survivors. Illyn nodded as if understanding now what the fear was about.

Illyn watched a very big man scream for someone to grab the keys. Somewhere inside of her there was a voice telling her that she should be doing the same but kneeling in the dirt next to Neman’s body all she could do was watch with an almost fascination. Flight. Crouched in the dirt, Illyn observed first hand a person's desire to flee to save their life.

A scavenger was eating one of the dead slaves. The remaining slaves were screaming and trying to flee still. Illyn licked her lips. The slave was dead when the scavenger began eating, like Neman. She looking around at her brother she realized just how many were dead and the slavers too. Again a frown appeared on the woman’s face.

There had to be something that had caused the initial wave of death. On her right had been the ruins and judging by the sun, it was the east. The scavengers had come from that way. Nothing else that she could see gave her any clue. Illyn looked to the north, again nothing but dirt and ruins. Turning her head to the west, Illyn’s left, was something entirely unexpected. Her expression never changed she stared back at the wolf. It was watching the chaos as if, like her, it was fascinated with watching the people flee.

Illyn stood slowly, the chain still in her hands. Those bodies closest to her moved slightly with her, including her brother’s. She paid them no mind. Her eyes never left those of the wolf’s. Licking her lips again, Illyn stepped towards it. Something about the way it stared, that it was staring gave the wolf an almost human quality. Illyn was both terrifed and unafraid of it.

She knew she should run. Neman would have wanted her to run, to try and flee but Illyn couldn’t bring herself to do it. Chaos was behind her and calm in front of her, yet everywhere was death. Whatever killed Neman had not killed her and now it seemed she had a choice. Scavengers or the wolf. Moving as best as the chains allowed Illyn moved towards the wolf. She was pulling lifeless bodies behind her, like the train of a dress.

“A choice in death, than I chose you”

Illyn kept her eyes locked to the wolf’s.