Day 030: After The Fall
Summary: In which Que seeks out the dropship camp and … grieves, and finds something that means a thing to him— something that might bind him to an obligation.
Date: 30/6/1916
Related: None

Day 30 — The Dropship Camp


It is silence upon the land. This land, this land which holds so much blood of his People, which has the ashes of so many who have fallen for defending it. There is new blood now. New ashes.

Que rides a docile horse towards the skaigeda. Or what remains of it. It is a world of ash. Fire, the great redeemer, the great balancer, it had its say here. It is not the Flame, no, not that most sacred mystery that Que doesn't really understand, but it is Fire. Through the gate, Que leads his horse, his eyes serious as he gazes around. This is not simply ash: that is a bone of a person, as is that, and that, and that as well. The bones of the fallen are eveywhere amongst the ash.

There is also a disturbance. Some conflict happened here. Que knows tracks and trails enough to tell that two people were here separately, and for a long time he considers this. He knows the signs of his own people — but these others? He does not know their signs. They are not Trikru, they are not wild, they are not even Reapers. The tracks are … strange. What could make tracks such as that?

Que can not conceive of the possibility of a vehicle, so his mind does not extrapolate from the vehicles tracks what came here. He only sees something new. Something unknowing.

"My brothers and sisters." breathes Que softly, even as he crouches down and digs his hand through the ash into the dirt below, the sacred earth that is the mother of life, "You have spilled blood and been turned unto ashes, to join the ashes of your fathers and mothers before you in the earth, and there you will return again and again as the live which sustains us. I, Que kom Trikru, thank you for your passing."

There is sorrow in his voice, but a an accepting sorrow: his people have fallen in battle, and they are ashes to be returned to the earth. That is the end of all warriors, all makers, all farmers, all laborers. Ashes in the earth. From the earth they come, to the earth they return. So it is, so it will ever be.

For hours Que works. He didn't come with a shovel, but a heavy spade will do the duty, and he turns the soil around the dropship. It is solumn and serious, this duty. He returns the ashes to the earth, and he does not stop until there is no more of his people to honor in their final manner. Some might not care to do this, but for Que?

There is nothing more important then this honor.

In time, he wanders into the dropship itself. Here there is a clear sign of struggle, but there are not ashes that call to him. He looks around, studying it for a time, until his eyes fall upon a weapon.

Is it a sword? Or a spear? It is in a way something between both. Long-handled, expertly crafted, it is his own work. Que reaches down to lift up this blade and test its weight, finding its balance excellent even though it is unusual in design. "He named you Epoch." murmurs Que, "And yet you fall to the ground." Que frowns intently, displeased. "If his ashes have fallen, I will see that you stand in the ground with him. If they have not? I will see you returned to him. It is a hard thing, for a maker to take up a weapon."

Que sighs, deeply, severely, "But when we fight it is for the direst of reasons. Cole kom Skaikru, I will see this Epoch of yours is laid in proper honor."

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