We Will Be Ready
The nights are the hardest part. Candles can’t be lit because they attract too much attention from unwanted visitors. Since the snow has spread more and more people have made their way towards our city, but we can offer no refuge. When the long winter comes though, we will be ready. It gets closer everyday with arctic winds blowing stronger with each passing hour. It is driving all those who have survived our way but to let them in would hurt us more. We are the last stronghold between the lost and the righteous, and we will not falter no matter what.
There are whispers that a hero will come, a wielder of power so divine that we will all be saved, but to listen to such idle nonsense would mean certain death. Everyday, as those people turn away once more, they scorn us and promise that when our saviour arrives, frozen and half dead at our door, and we turn them away, we would be doomed for all eternity.
We never believed that there could be a chance that they would be right. It was another cold and lifeless night when the knocks sounded at our door. Boom. Boom. Boom. Steady and calculated as they were, we refused to open the door. But whoever it was, was insistent. Eventually, Aaron opened the door, there stood a man holding up a girl. She was blue with the cold and though the man looked near death there was a determination in his eyes that I had never seen before.
He demanded we let them in, that we needed to help and save his sister.
But we are the last stronghold against the lost.
He begged and pleaded and cried and told us how the ice had cracked under her feet. She was a fool for not realising where she was standing.
That night, as with each night before and each one after we turned away those that needed our help the most. We never believed any of those threats but once the long winter had engulfed us and we were managing to survive, that girl came back to us once again.
She came, as she had before, in the dead of night, not a single person in tow. Even the shadow cast by the light of the moon seemed sinister.
She climbed up the wall and as quick as it took for the flame to light, set our home on fire.
It wa only that one night that had light, the only night we shone as the Eastern beacon. We became the thing we never wanted to be.
She stood and watched us burn and swore a promise to the wind that we would help her or burn. But this girl never realised that one day, someday soon, we will rise once more. Revenge is a damaging thing.