Work Text:
Fire had a place, in the lands of rain. Fire had its purpose. Controlled, guided, managed. Contained in lanterns and bonfires, used for cleaning and cleansing. Never was it wild and devouring - not thick with blackened smoke that swallowed the sky and choked the land.
Of course, they all knew it was coming. Ever since the Wall left them, exposed them, the Empire had begun its poking and prodding. Scouts would come and go, sometimes discreetly, but more often not. Galahd had been fighting since before the Wall abandoned them, always been a fierce and independent and strong country, so it continued to fight even without the Wall. Even when the Imperials came and brought their plague with them, when the Empire scorched their fields and poisoned their fishing grounds. Even when they reached out to the Lucians and begged, begged for help. Even when Lucis turned their backs on them.
But now was what all those moments had been building up to. The penultimate chapter - the devastating fall of a proud, proud country.
The black smoke was the sign. Black smoke on a clear, blue day was wrong. It served no purpose in Galahd. The largest island of Galahd had hundreds of small rivers and tributaries, like the one Talia was ankle deep in, when she saw the smoke. There was an excellent fire-response system in Galahd, she thought to herself. Black smoke was wrong. Especially since she knew that the smoke was starting where the capital city should be, where plumbing and hoses and fire teams worked to maintain the city’s infrastructure and protect it. It was there and it had started so suddenly, Talia hadn’t noticed while she foraged for snails in the creek. Hadn’t seen or smelled it until she finally looked up to see what the sky looked like, above the mountain.
Talia threw her basket, scattering the pitiful few snails back across the rocks. She turned and ran, sprinting back down the shallow slope of the hill, bare feet slipping over rock, sloshing through the creek, until she was kicking up dry, dry dirt behind her. The rolled up legs of her denim overalls ended up unfurled from the force of her movement. Her house was on the edge of the village, the nearest to her and the first thing she saw. But her father didn't need her shouting to come out and see - he was already there, a bag in hand, dressed and ready. There were others, Talia realized, as she came closer. The whole village was gathering, stepping out of their homes carrying bags and wrapped baskets, wearing coats too hot for the dry and bright day.
Their faces made Talia want to vomit. It was happening - the thing they’d all feared.
"Talia!" Percival barked, as soon as he could see her. "Quickly!"
She took a running jump over the wooden fence and came to a skidding halt before the porch, ignoring the blood on her toes and the pain in her ankles. But Percival didn't wait for her, dropping the bag on the stone pathway in their garden and rushing back inside the house. Talia's boots were thrown out onto the porch a moment later, but he didn't follow. "Is it the Empire?" She called, fumbling to pull her old socks from inside her boots and get them on. By the time she'd laced up her boots and strapped the bag to her back, Percival was out of the house and tying straps across his chest. Cradled in those straps like a child, Talia's too-thin mother was slumped against his shoulders, her reed thin legs dangling from the sling under his arms.
"Paloma said it's time to go." He said. Talia clutched the straps of her bag, fear tightening in her chest. "Now?" She looked back to the village, seeing everyone beginning to make their way towards the mountain.
Percival grabbed her hand and jerked her attention back to him. He grabbed her shoulders, bringing himself inches from her face. "No matter what - no matter what, you keep going. " He ordered. There was urgency, fear in his voice like never before, green eyes wide and bright and wild with fear. "You keep moving, do you understand me?"
"Dad-"
" Do you understand me?!" He yelled, for the first time ever in her life, shaking Talia's shoulders. On his back, Sasha moaned something incoherent. Talia sucked in a breath. "Ok!" She said, swallowing her tears.
Percival let out a breath. He hugged Talia painfully tight, kissing her head. "Ok." He repeated. "Ok."
"Verona!" One of the other volunteers came jumping over the fence, too. A soldier - a glaive, who had volunteered to join first with others, like Nyx, when the King announced the Kingsglaive a year or two ago. "They're coming up way too fast! We've gotta get a move on!"
"Can you manage? I have to help my wife." Percival began ushering them both out of the yard. The soldier looked unsure, but nodded and ran off in the opposite direction everyone else did, towards the core of the village.
Everyone was moving up the mountain, which at first did not make sense to Talia. But then she saw the thick smoke, curving as it chased the wind as it raced for them, following the main roads. Any other path had thicker forests. The mountain, though sacred and untrodden it should remain, was the only path that was low and pain with scrub, instead of tall, thick trees. Still, scrubland would burn. But at least it was easier to escape.
Talia took one last look at her house. Simple and square, two stories, the shutters propped open to let the wind through the many windows. Her father always bragged about how his own father had helped him build this house, when he started courting Sasha all those years ago. And Sasha came and hand-laid every fragment of the mosaic on the front of the house. Every geometric shape, every flower and leaf made of sea glass and pebble and stone and shell. Inside was calmer, but Sasha had a love to drape pretty fabrics, painting the walls inside with all sorts of scenery and dream-like figures. Sasha changed those paintings every year, but they always gave the feeling of fresh air, of a warm soak on a cool day. Anything and everything that paint could make, Sasha brought to life with a skillful hand.
Deep down, Talia knew she would never see those paintings again. Not in this house, nor anywhere else.
"Tilly!" Selena Ulric came running up the hill, loaded with a small backpack, her mother's embroidered, beaded silk wedding scarf tied around her head. "Tilly, Momma told Nyx and the others to come with us, but Nyx won't listen!" Selena cried, grabbing Talia's hands.
Percival made a sharp sound behind her. "Talia, keep -"
"I'll keep moving, but I'm not leaving Nyx." She snapped over her shoulder. "You've got mom. I'll keep up."
He glowered, but Talia took off, quickly running back through the village, past the stragglers and straight towards the crawling smoke. The closer to the edge they got, the more for she could see in that smoke - the more she could smell that smoke. The sounds of people running were steadily being replaced with the crackle of flame - and the crack of gunfire. Selena clung to her arm, hands trembling. The volunteers, the glaives, were helping the last few people, the slow and elderly. Some resorted to picking people up, slinging them across their shoulders in a fireman's hold, bustling back through the village towards the mountain.
Paloma Ulric's sharp voice cut through all the noise. "You will! " She commanded, although there was a shrillness that Talia had never heard her use before. Paloma Ulric was not shrill - she was deep and strong and her voice carried the low pitch of thunder. At the edge of town, where the bazaar sat by the road, Paloma gave her son a hard shove towards the mountain. "I won't leave you!" Nyx protested.
Selena and Talia came to a skidding halt on either side of him. Paloma clicked her tongue, turning to Talia. She wore a rather pretty dress, bright flowers stitched into bold fabric, a linen scarf embroidered with a river flowing from one end to the other. The dress had only straps, no sleeves, exposing the marks of lightning across her collarbones. They were bright and glowing. "Take my son and go." She instructed, voice like the crack of a whip. "Do not let him come back."
"Nyx." Talia didn't like what Paloma was saying, and didn't want to leave her here. But when she told you to do something, you did it. Even if it hurt. Talia turned to Nyx, grabbing the front the bandolier of knives across his chest. "We have to go - the rest of town needs our help." Selena grabbed his arm, tugging.
He shook them off. "Ma, you can't stop them!" He pleaded. "Please, come on!"
Paloma turned her back to them, facing the main road. Talia's stomach dropped to her boots. She could see now what was making the smoke so thick. Not just fire, but the burning of engines. Imperial tanks that rolled up the slope of the road, escorted by more soldiers than Talia had ever seen before. The smoke was unusual and thick behind the tank, and something rumbled menacingly over the growl of the engines.
Talia grabbed Nyx's bandolier and shoved him with all her might. "Let's go , Nyx!" Selena cried, pushing with her. Nyx stumbled a step, causing Talia to wobble, but he grabbed her arms and hauled her upright. Finally, with tears on his cheeks, he seemed to be obeying, moving back from his mother and towards the mountain. Selena sobbed, taking hold of his hand in a fierce grip. Talia looked over her shoulder in time to see Paloma raise her arms. The lightning crawling down her arms flared brilliantly as the wind suddenly roared to life. The imperials were close enough now to make out the details of their tunics, the links of their chainmail. They raised their rifles and pointed at Paloma.
But instead of gunfire, there was thunder.
Talia felt, rather than heard Selena's scream, as she watched lightning engulf everything from Paloma and beyond. The imperial forces exploded into dust, a vortex of flame and lightning consuming the road well past sight. Nyx went utterly still against her arms, shock turning him - all of them - to stone.
The thunder ended as quickly as it had begun, lightning gone, only scorches on the paved road. Not even a scrap of that linen scarf remained, nor a single bullet or link of mail. Only fire and smoke, licking at the edge of the bazaar and threatening to gobble the village whole.
Talia's ears were ringing. She could not hear as Nyx began to shout, but he pushed against her. Tried to go for the scorch marks, for the flames. Perhaps to search for something. But they all knew there was nothing left. Talia put her shoulder against his chest and shoved with all her might, forcing him to begin backwards. Selena helped her, shivering against her side, pushing against her brother.
It took a moment. Talia still could not hear, but eventually, Nyx stopped fighting her. He grabbed Selena's hand, turned, and they ran. Leaving behind the village as it began to finally burn.
The air was so terribly dry, even after the sun had set and the night had brought a cool wind with it.
The people from their village were joined by other towns, survivors from the capital city, and every lone survivor that had managed to escape before the Empire burned their way through. By now, as the survivors crawled their way around the peak of the mountain, they could see that the other two large islands were aflame. There was smoke as thick as storm clouds, but dry as bones. As the island closest to the Lucian continent, they were perhaps the last to be attacked in order to give the Empire more time before Lucis could respond. By now, there was no way Lucis didn’t know what was happening.
The others brought not just their lives, but their words. Paloma had not been the only one to reach out to the storm and sacrifice herself. Five other people ended their lives to give their families, their neighbors a chance to escape. It was a piece of knowledge that made Talia all but nauseous, knowing that the worst thing someone could ever do in Galahd had saved so many. And that even through all this sacrilege was occurring, the sky was still bone dry.
Some of the soldiers scouted ahead, reporting boats were taking people to the mainland, and that if they could get there quickly enough, there would be boats ready to take them, too.
Talia reunited with her father quickly, helping him keep Sasha steady on his back. Nyx stuck close to his sister, holding her hand in his. Libertus had found them, not long ago, and was trudging along behind them, and Crowe and Pelna’s town met them on the mountain before nightfall. Crowe was covered in soot and Pelna was in tears, but they were alive and otherwise unharmed.
It was so quiet. So painful. Talia looked up the mountain, up at the sky, and wondered why it was so quiet.
“Hmmm.” Sasha’s hand reached, touching Talia’s cheek. Talia turned back down and managed to smile at her mother, despite how painful it was to look at her, and see the discoloration and pain that sickness had brought upon her. Sasha hummed again, leaning pitifully against Percival’s shoulder.
“It’s OK, momma.” Talia murmured, touching her mother’s hand. “It’s gonna be OK.”
Sasha groaned softly, hiding her face in Percival’s shoulder, tucking her hand away. Talia sighed and focused on walking, on keeping her feet flat and not tripping, as the land became more and amore rocky.
Then - then there was a sound.
The ripping, horrific rumble was drowned out as soon as people started screaming. No one pushed or shoved; they grabbed, dragged, moving anyone they could. Talia turned and saw a daemon, a real daemon, gigantic and bright red, a hulking humanoid swinging a sword of flames. Percival snatched Talia up by the arm and moved, running with the rest to get away from the daemon. The glaives focused in on it, as it swung its mighty blade. Talia heard the screams as it struck people, a different scream from fear - a guttural, pained sound that made your skin crawl and your bones ache.
There were more daemons, little things like insects, large things like floating masses of glowing flame, gremlins, goblins. They came rushing up the slope of the mountain, making horrifically gleeful sounds as they chased down anyone they could reach. The survivors turned from moving along the mountain to rushing up it. Talia wrenched her arm from her father’s grip and moved behind him, helping to push him upwards with the weight of her mother on his back. She tried to focus on not hearing the screams, not hearing the sounds of tearing and burning flesh. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her lungs burned in her chest as she slipped against the gravel, but managed to keep moving.
“Nyx!” A voice cried, the familiar sound cutting above the rest. Talia whipped her head around in time to see the big, red daemon charge for Selena, whose leg was scorched and twisted at an odd angle. Some of the glaives tried to stop it, but they were easily tossed aside - Nyx amongst them.
Talia faltered, but it was Sasha that grabbed her arm, forcing her, despite the fragility of her grip, to run. To leave it all behind. There was nothing she could do, anyways, except maybe get herself killed. She clenched her jaw and tried to not hear the screams, tried to see through the pouring tears.
There were so few of them, when they finally reached the shore. The sun was peeking over the horizon, a golden glow that made the smoky haze murky and clear. There were three barges waiting on the shore, the smaller kind, meant typically for dredging the bay or helping with construction at the docks. When the boat captains saw them, they waved them down the slope with urgency. Loading everyone was slower business than preferable, as everyone was exhausted, injured, and the shore was angry with the riptide. The more abled ones, like Libertus and a quiet, stone-faced Nyx, ended up having to be part of a human chain to help the less abled onto the barges.
Percival put Sasha on the barge, at the edge, and Talia sat right next to her. Crowe came and sat next to her, blood on her feet, quietly holding Sasha’s other hand. No one really spoke, besides the occasional order being barked. Once they were finally all loaded, emphasizing how few of this group were able to survive, the barges began to slowly putter away from the shore. It was painfully slow, and Percival and Pelna were at the helm of their barge, trying to find a way to help the captain to get the barge moving faster.
Talia peered around the dozens of people slumped on the barge, listening to their quiet sobs. Nyx was seated in a far corner, quietly staring at a string of pale, blue beads held in his fist. Talia couldn’t bring herself to go to him. What could she say? What difference would she make? She turned back to look at the hazy shores of Galahd -
“The Empire!” Someone else shouted, pointing. “What is that?!”
A series of large, slowly moving, Imperial dropships were coming around the peak of the mountain, carrying something massive between them. It was hard to make out what it was, for how heavily it all just seemed to smoke. It was nearly the size of the mountain itself, enormous with massive shapes like pauldrons on its shoulders, glowing spots that bled through the smoke. Someone muttered a prayer behind Talia. “Is that their new weapon?” Crowe breathed, clinging to Sasha’s arm. “What do we do?” People were already panicking, the soldiers and the boat captains shouting for everyone to try and stay still, lest they capsize the barges.
Talia sank against the guard rail, shoulders slumping. The dropships dropped the smoking thing not too far above the shore. The shockwave of its impact was like a small earthquake, causing a wave to hit the barges hard. Talia grabbed her mother and Crowe, using the guard rail to keep themselves in place. Others grabbed onto her shoulders, using her as an achor as well. The wailing began as the creature began to walk towards the waterline; helpless, pitiful sobbing.
Sasha wrapped her arms around Talia’s shoulders. She did not speak, only hummed softly as she kissed both of Talia’s cheeks. Then, she slipped free and stood. “Mom, get down!” Talia cried, half surprised she could even stand on her own. Sasha ignored her, moving to the edge of the barge. Talia stumbled to her feet as another wave smashed against the boat, knocking her back down. Crowe managed to catch her, holding her so she didn’t slide off the edge of the boat. “Mom!” Talia screamed.
“Sasha!!” Percival thundered from behind them. But it was too late. Sasha, thin and bruised by disease, addled with plague, raised her arms to the sky. She tilted her head back, as though in bliss, revealing her closed eyes and a smile on her face. When she opened her eyes, they were glowing and violet.
The thunder came like it always did, but this time, something was different. Instead of a brief but torrential hurricane that gobbled up everything around them, the smoky sky churned. Lightning swirled in a vortex over Galahd, the golden dawn becoming black and thick. Thunder made the barge tremble and the creature raised its strange head to the sky. In the same breath that Sasha exhaled, the storm struck like a serpent. The creature was engulfed, the imperial dropships blasted to bits, lightning spearing through everything and pulling it apart at the seams. Lightning tore apart everything, a true display of the storm’s fury. So large and so bright the torrent was, no one could see, instead having to shield their eyes to protect themselves from going blind. Crowe wrenched Talia down, forcing her to hide her face, despite her screaming, despite her writhing to get away and run for her mother. Crowe didn’t let go until the thunder was silent and the waves were calm.
Talia wrenched herself free, throwing herself around to find only scorched fiberglass. Ash, soot, and a deathly silence as the people around her could only stare.
“It’s gone.” She barely heard someone say. “She saved us.”
“Why did it have to come to this?” Someone else began to sob.
Talia slumped in place, staring at the scorched fiberglass. Crowe hugged her from behind, perhaps in an attempt to comfort her, perhaps in fear that she would throw herself into the waves. But Talia’s body felt…numb. She barely heard her father’s anguished screams as Libertus and others held him back, perhaps for the same reason Crowe held Talia.
Talia looked to the shores of Galahd. The forests at the shore’s edge were scorched and burning, from the lightning. But the flames were not red - they were an unearthly shade of purple, sending glowing spores into the blackening sky. The once lush and green slopes below the mountain were now blackened by death.
Talia sucked in a breath. She closed her eyes, leaning back into Crowe’s chest, forcing herself to take another breath.