The Depths of Rivillin – A Short Story
The Final Episode
Daylight fades. I can’t figure out why I can’t follow Aller, my only friend left in the world. As I move toward the edges of the city again, Rivillin lays out, unshaking in the wind, yet in shreds like a ripped flag.
At my old house, I stop.
I look in through the open doorway. The floor of my bedroom lays in pieces on the living room floor. The couch Avrin and I would sit on for hours playing with magic has a foot from my bedframe sticking in it like a dagger.
I glance left and the falling sun breaks through the clouds and I remember how it used to shine through the window just before night. The light catches me in the eyes and I turn back toward the house. Black spots cover my vision and I can’t see my home anymore.
I breathe deep and move away toward the outskirts of Rivillin again. The sun vanishes to soft darkness.
Here, I can’t tell where Rivillin ends.
I see a figure a long way down the road and think it might be Aller, but I get closer and I realize the person is too small. It’s a little boy with red hair.
He’s facing the dying of the day, facing the wilderness beyond Rivillin where trees and mountains rise past the empty fields. He doesn’t see me. He faces emptiness, yet he has a brick raised high in his right hand. Like he’s ready to strike.
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