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<B>The Day the Sun Went Away Eclipsed by a pale silhouette in the sky, we could see the light wane from the distant forest. She looked at me out of the corner of her eye as we continued to march past the signs, omens -- the blue-green overgrown moss that obscured the pathway towards the innards of the once lush forest. "I'm unsure of this," she said quietly as we stopped abruptly in the now twisting path -- "why must we run this way when it's clear we won't be able to see." The light faded ahead, darkening. "We can't stay here, we can't go back -- there's nothing left." The man, whispered but was solemn. I hint of desperation rang in his voice. "We have to keep moving." They moved towards the black horizon even though the woman found herself under a now shaking ground -- "What's that shaking?" The slight murmur and rumble that expanded on their already internalized foreboding of something terrible to pass. The sounds grew louder, and lights started to flood the now brilliant blue-green entrance. The two looked back to see reds and yellows soar through the air, flashes of gold against the now gaining roar. Their pace quickened. Into a cave off the now midnight eclipse route, they ducked -- a stumble across some rocks and bashed knee into a protruding stalagmite. The man cursed with a distant echo replying casually. Otherwise, it was suspiciously quiet inside the cavern. The woman and the man sat in the void and held each other, the gold and reds glittering in the forefront of the cave's entrance. Like a wave, it crashed past the once shadowed path, men emblazoned with a shared red-brown symbol painted across their chests. Shoulder-to-shoulder, they dotted and lined the path -- grains of sand pushing themselves through a bottle-necked hourglass. Some fell through the cracks and scattered in miniature patrols outside the forest trail. They carried lanterns and torches, armed with spears and forked polearms with half-axe attachments. Some were decorated in spoils -- golden necklaces, pearl bracelets and splattered with the blood of fallen foes. Some carried broken limbs and bandaged guts. They drove forward seemingly compelled by wanderlust or some divine guidance. A civilization seems to crack before them -- not unlike a hero falls to a some strange geas. They seem otherworldly and relentless. The wave crashes against the rock walls and moves past the cavern. The illumination fades. Heavy breathing of the two can be heard, a heartbeat echoes strongly against the now silence outside. In the wake of the passing, the shockwave, the ghosts of the march -- they pass. And in their passing, the eclipse rises from the sun. The mourning to begin. Newsox | |