13It was in the morning she found it. Their world was white, blinding. All was dark. She climbed the hill to the cliff, to watch the sun rise over the untouched ivory landscape, as she did every day.
The wind ruffled her ash-blonde hair, whipping it around her. She stood unmoving, unaffected. Before her was the wide expanse of pearly plane, the last remaining sight of what was once the sea.
Now all was snow.
The sun rose slowly, gliding gracefully from below the horizon, bringing no colour with it. There was very little colour left in their world. The ground slipped from grey to white, the emotion draining from the snow, dragged into the sky by the sun. The few clouds drifted aimlessly across the cold blue of the sky.
She stood and watched.
As she did every morning, she waited for the feeling to hit her. That moment, when that beam of sunlight broke the horizon, and suddenly everything seemed divine. Everything had a purpose. Everything was real. That moment when she knew everything would be all right. When she knew why their world was here.
Why she was here.
The snow crunched under her feet as she shifted her weight a little. Her boots were dusted with tiny snowflakes.
She looked back to the sun.
Her hands twisted in the familiar soothing pattern, finger-to-thumb, finger-to-thumb, one over the other. Her brother had taught her the ritual when she was younger, out of sight of the villagers. An ancient spell to warn off evil spirits. She was careful though, never allowing herself to be seen. Anything conflicting with the practises of the new religions was frowned upon, and punishable by the Auchon. Her fingers grew cold, and she slipped them into the warm sleeves of her coat. She took a deep breath of the fresh air, burning her throat, and looked forward. She tried not to analyse what she saw, categorise, question. She wished simply to let it seep through her. She tried to forget herself, and live through everything.
She liked to cross herself, an ancient catholic practise. She found these repetitive actions calming, comforting, and gained peace from them. The sacrifice and the rigid rules of the new religions were unappealing to her. The yin-yang around her neck, and tattoo on her ankle were hidden from sight, symbols of a face she could not show.
She remembered the first time that her brother had brought her up here. She had been six, he had been four. He had run into her tent, despite the rules, and dragged her out by the hand, not saying a word.
She opened her mouth but he cut her short.
"Shh." He looked around them nervously. "The Auchon won't approve."
She was silenced immediately.
She followed him outside, and they disappeared amongst the snow immediately, their white coats hiding them from view.
He pulled her up the hill, despite her protests, and made her stand with him at the top, watching the sun rise. That first shaft of sunlight on her face had been like being touched by an angel.
Aimyee believed in angels.
She sighed anxiously. What was taking so long? Looking out across the sea, she tried to imagine what the world must have looked like before everything froze.
She couldn't.
Mother had told them that once the snow had been green, and the sea had been blue. People had lived in enormous villages, spreading for miles, and reaching the sky, almost. She said that everything had been perfect – she called it Aeven – until the rebellion had come. Everyone hated the rebellion.
Before Aeven had been the dark ages, a time of darkness and confusion. The desires of the true deities were unknown, and the people misused their strengths. The age of Enlightenment followed. Over time, the Enlightenment grew and flourished into Aeven, which was the best time of all.
So they told her.
The truth of violence became universally known and understood. Truth-tellers were unafraid to preach the Verity to the people. Violence was the way forward. Through violence, the true strength could live on.
Aeven ended, of course. Otherwise Aimyee would not be standing on this cliff, this morning, like this. The Paece movement overturned Aeven. The Paece movement became hated with a passion that burned through their lily-white world.
And now the Auchon had taken over, and the last survivors of the Paece movement were nowhere to be found.
Since then, Aimyee had been bound to pray in silence.
Since then, Aimyee had never spoken.
Since then, Aimyee's life had been a lie, and she knew that.
And so did everyone else.
She stood, and waited for the sun's beams to stroke her restless face. And they did not come. So she turned, her heart heavy, unable to put of the inevitable for any longer. Behind her, the people were arranged in a loose circle, observing her intently. They were indistinguishable from one another, a sinister collection of silent watchers. Aimyee knew their silence was a lie.
And so did they.
She turned back to the cliff, away from those who had betrayed her, and took a step closer. Her boots crunched on the snow, and she warded away the evil demons finger-to-thumb, finger-to-thumb. A gust of wind blew her hair over her face, and for a moment she was blinded. And she missed the feeling of divinity. When she looked back, the sun had risen. And the end was nigh.
He wasn't coming.
She took another step towards the edge.
He wasn't coming.
She had missed it. The final time, and she had missed it.
He wasn't coming.
Aimyee believed in angels.
She took another step.
She had missed it.
He wasn't coming.
She had missed it.
He wasn't coming.
He wasn't coming.
She loved him.
He wasn't coming.
She had missed it.
She took another step.
"Aimyee!" called a thin voice, stretched in the wind.
She whipped her head around, searching for the source. She could see nothing. He pulled back his hood as he ran to her, revealing his flushed face. She remained expressionless. He stopped before her.
Taking her hand, he pressed something against her palm, and she felt the warmth of his skin against her own for a single moment. With one look up at her face, he ran away again, blurring into the snowflakes. Her hand dropped to her side and she took one step closer.
His blue eyes were burned into her mind for eternity.
She was standing on the edge now. And the sun had risen. He had come. She had nothing else to lose. Nothing important enough to be saved. She looked into the sun, wanting its face to be burned into her eyes for her last moments. She wanted to see the sun when she died. She smiled for the first time, her lips curving in an elegant expression of joy. The wind blew, slicing into her skin. This was the end. She believed in angels. He had come. She grasped the yin-yang around her neck. She waited one last moment, looking around her. And it finally hit her. She finally understood everything. It flowed through her, and she lived. The smile faded from her face, and she took a step forward.
Lily-white world.
Took a step forward, flying.
Beautiful sunrise.
Took a step forward, falling.
She scrambled up the slope every day.
The wind rushed up to meet her.
She caught her breath in the cold.
She knew what it was like to be an angel, to be able to fly.
She smiled, and knew her silence was golden.
She remembered him suddenly, and carefully opened her hand, needing to see it in that last moment. It was wrenched from her grasp instantly, torn away by the jealous wind. But she saw it.
Silence is golden.
And a moment was enough.
Silence is golden.
A moment is enough for anything.
A moment is enough for everything.
This last moment, was all she had lived for.
Silence is gold…
And her angel caught her.
I had no idea how long it takes to edit a one-shot! Anyway, I desperately need CC for this. Please. I have a feeling a lot of it isn't very clear, but I need feedback. Thank you for reading! ; )