Shania Webb

Shattered Haven

Old and frail, she stood above them. She stood tall, back straight, her face drawn and gaunt. Ash fell from the sky and gently swirled around her frowning face before touching her hair like a lover's caress, and around her neck a shining heart shaped locket encasing a glowing white stone shone like a beacon, so pretty, for all the pain and suffering it’s existence had cost. In the distance we could see the faint outline of wings against the mountain rocks, all different shapes and sizes, they stood to be a reminder, a statement; they were always watching, always listening. It was only their mercy and our angel dome, our security net, that provided us some form of protection during times like these. Only because they allowed it could she stand before us, rally us, prepare us to fight. Only because of their unjust mercy was she able to live so long, and only her strength and will would protect her now. As she spoke, her words, her life echoed around us, surrounded us and whispered through the mountains, taunting them, preparing them just as much as it prepared us.