The Spirit Bird

One moment, the ashen earth was still, not even the rustle of the bushes or the birds’ mournful chirps. Then, the deep cinereal clouds opened up and, drop by drop, droplets of water began to patter what was left of the lifeless wasteland.
From a jagged rock clinging to the steep mountain, lay a pitiful young women, alive but barely. Crusted blood coated her scarred hands, and a patch of her auburn hair was charred and shriveled.
As the rain began to fall more briskly, the woman’s blistered lips began to quiver, and in less than a minute her eyelids twitched and slowly they opened. The woman’s name was Ovelia Falck, and in the life she had once known, her surname was acknowledged by every human being across her country. But now her country was no more, and now so was her name.
Ovelia lifted herself up with shaking arms, coughing very severely. A bump began rising on her scalp, right where the patch of hair had been burned.
She then got slowly to her feet and peering around her in horror. The tens of thousands of bodies that had originally been lying there on the green grass were now covered in terrible, thick ash. The atmosphere smelled acrid, just like decomposing flesh and the putrid fumes of lava.
I’ve done it. The thought was not sorrowful, but relieved. She sighed contentedly, followed by a fit of coughing. The rain was still falling, slowly washing out the smell of death.
Just then, a perceptive chirp sounded from above, and Ovelia looked in the direction of the noise. A strange, multicolored bird was descending from the gloomy heavens, oblivious to the water hitting it. Ovelia’s eyes widened- this was not part of her plan. The bird trilled a wise warning, looking at her with oppressive red eyes.
Ovelia tripped on the rough, scaly stone, reeling backwards but catching herself before she fell into the ash. The bird flew in circles above her head, chanting Your time has come... Your time has come.Ovelia shook her head furiously. You don’t understand; she whispered, I didn’t kill my people for nothing. They were sick!
The bird answered, Liar, they were not sick. You killed them to satisfy your own evil nature. Ovelia clenched her teeth, sparks flashing in her obsidian eyes. You can’t do anything now...
Wrong, the bird replied, and clawed at Ovelia’s skin. Ovelia screeched, but then was still. Her body kneeled over backwards, tumbling into the bottomless ash that she herself had caused. The bird, on the other hand, flew away, carrying the spirit of Ovelia Falck to the dungeon where she belonged.

Utgangen (End)