Episode CLXXX - Ashes to Ashes

It was the worst storm Ellis had ever experienced.  Day had turned to night in the blink of an eye, visibility had dwindled down to a couple of metres at most, and the heat and noise was incredible - so loud that Ellis could barely think.  Pieces of debris, huge chunks of metal, the carcasses of old vehicles and the tattered remains of hypostatick fluid tanks, flew past like leaves in an Autumn gust.  The pile they took shelter behind vibrated with the force of it all and, somewhere above, Ellis could just make out the shadowy trail of its diminishing peak.

And the ash - it made it hard to breathe, there was so much of it, falling all around them like snow in a blizzard, each flake warm to the touch and turning the world a greasy, charcoal grey.  Sweat dripped down his forehead as he clung tightly onto Siren.  Annabella held his hand, squeezing it so hard it hurt, and yet the pain was somehow lessened in comparison to the tempest around them.  He couldn't really see Gulliver beyond the girl, but there was a low shadow there that he assumed must be the pirate.  He just hoped they were all okay.

And then, suddenly, the blasting wind stopped, its rage passed on to some other district, and only the gloomy skies and softly falling ash remained.

"What in Lakhma's name was that?" Gulliver said, pulling himself up from where he had slouched and dusting off the layer of ash that had covered him.

"It came from the east," Siren said, loosening herself from Ellis embrace to do the same.

"From Ashvault," Annabella said in a strange, hollow voice.

"Well, that would explain the ash part," Gulliver muttered sarcastically.

"It was the first attack.  More will be coming.  The Stoneskins will be coming."

"Annabella," Ellis said, leaning down towards the girl, who stared off into the middle distance, trance-like, "are you alright?"

"The war has begun," she said, "and our time is coming."

"What's she sayin'?" Gulliver asked, leaning in.

"I don't know," Ellis replied.  "Annabella," he shook her gently, "Annabella, do you hear me?"

The girl blinked, then suddenly turned to look into Ellis' eyes, confusion passing across her face like a rain-cloud.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Okay," Siren said, standing up and dusting herself off further, "this is getting weird.  We need to get back to the Colony and speak to Franck, see if he understands any of this."

"And we'll 'ave to warn them about the Stoneskins," Gulliver added.  "You did all 'ear that bit, right?"

Ellis nodded.  That was one part he did understand, although how Annabella could know such a thing, he had no idea.

"But the carriage," he said, suddenly remembering, "it was torn apart in the wind."

"Then I guess we have to walk home," Siren replied, "...again."

There was no psychic warning for the Colony, but the watchtowers proved their worth when one of the Militia spotted the cloud of ash advancing towards them and rang the warning bell.  Within minutes people were seeking shelter in their shops and houses, whilst some clustered against the walls of buildings in the narrow alleyways.  Others still made their way to the church, for as much as it had become a mental and spiritual refuge for many, it seemed it ought to serve just as well as a physical one.

Sarah wasn't quite prepared for the number of people who hurried in the door as the bell rang.  She was a respected figure in the Colony and many sought her out to discuss their problems and seek advice, but the numbers of people who attended her makeshift church services were few and she wasn't sure she had seen so many people in the sanctuary at once since the building had been finished.

She ushered them all forward, directing them into the cobbled-together pews before checking outside once more for any stragglers and closing the door.

"Did anyone see what it was?" someone asked.

"I heard it was an army," said another.

"Nonsense," muttered a third, "it's a storm.  I saw the cloud myself."

The debate intensified, with each convinced that their explanation was the correct one and others chipping in with their own suggestions, amendments or corroborations.  Sarah tried to ignore them, instead listening to the eerie silence from outside, where normally there were the busy sounds of daily life, now there was a void of activity, a vacuum waiting to be filled by something else.  And then she heard the rumbling.

"That's no storm," someone interrupted as the sound grew loud enough to cut across their conversations.

"It's an army, I'm telling you!" reiterated the first speaker.  "Thousands of footfalls, one after the other, that's what that noise is."

But the whistling of the wind which came before it told the lie to the man's theory and Sarah found herself taking a seat, bowing her head and dropping her hands to her lap in prayer.  Please God, she prayed, protect us from this latest calamity, whatever it might be...

"What are you doing, dear?" One middle-aged woman asked from nearby.

Sarah picked her head up and smiled.

"I'm asking for protection and comfort," she said.

"This is from your god, yes?"

"Yes," she nodded, "he is with us in this, I'm certain."

"Well, I'm not sure what comfort that is, but-"

The whistling wind reached a peak and then the full brunt of the ash-storm hit all at once, heating the sanctuary even as it battered the walls.

"Oh gods," the same woman called out, "what's happening?"

Sarah picked herself up from her seat, trying to remain calm, and moved over to beside the woman, putting an arm around her shoulder.

"I don't know," she said, "but we're safer here than anywhere else."

Others came to huddle nearby, despite the heat, and Sarah soon found herself holding hands with strangers as they sought out some kind of physical comfort.  Someone was crying, others whispered panicked words to each other, but the noise of the storm drowned most of that out, and they soon fell into a fearful silence.

I should pray, Sarah thought, and, though no one had asked her to, she bowed her head and began to speak her words out loud, gaining confidence to rise above the storm and let them all hear.

"Father God," she prayed, "we do not know what this is you have brought us, nor why we must shelter here in fear and uncertainty and, indeed, many of us do not know you at all, or struggle with doubt, but please, Father, be with us now in comfort and consolation."  Then, she remembered the words of a psalm they had taught as a choral reading exercise when she had been in primary school, much to her mother's disgust.  She couldn't even remember which one it was, and made a note to ask Theophilus if he could find it for her in the bible he had brought back.  Somehow, though, the words came to her quite clearly, as if she had recited them only yesterday.  "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.  He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.  He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.  Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they-"

The wind began to die down and the sound of the ash-storm battering the walls of the makeshift church began to diminish and Sarah looked up in wonder as she finished the sentence, "-comfort me."

The others around her were looking up too and, one by one, let the hands they were holding drop.

"Is it over," the middle-aged woman asked, "is it safe to go out?"

"I'm not sure," Sarah replied, "but I'll go look."

"Thank you," the woman said, her eyes still damp with tears.

"It's no problem," Sarah said earnestly, "really, I don't mind."

"No," the woman said, shaking her head, "for the poem.  It was beautiful.  I think... I think I understood why you were praying before."

Sarah didn't know how to respond, so gave a half-smile and turned away, heading towards the door.  Many of the others were watching her, and it felt strange to be so suddenly the centre of attention, so much so, in fact, that it felt a momentary relief to open the door and put the wood between her and their uncertain gaze, but what she saw beyond was much, much worse.

The Colony was buried in ash.

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