Far away, in a land where grass that should be lush green glows bright red and the sun shines deep blue rays over inhabitants that our eyes could only wish to see, stands a princess with glittering eyes and broken hands. She is guardian of her land and the assailants who have removed her from her post sit cross legged at her base, using her to prop their tired backs as they discuss the journey back home.

The grass that bends beneath their weights blends in comfortably with the blood spilt from the veins of the guardian’s wards. The color seems to climb up the stained legs of the warriors who rest beneath the defiled statue. One of the soldiers eyed the carnage they’d wrought only an hour before. Bodies, twisted at unnatural angles, were strewn over a ruby sea. The burnt corpses of their children were a testament to the people’s utter annihilation. Rather than being collected as spoils of war, the women had been destroyed along with the men. The soldiers who attacked had already combed over the entire village and its environs to be sure no one had escaped. If anyone had, the gods were with them.

The black opal eyes of the people’s desecrated guardian seemed to sparkle with tears of frustration and vengeance as the blue sun began to set behind the red mountains of the strange land. Slowly, wisps of scintillating white dust began to rise from the bodies that decorated the deadly meadow. By this time, the soldiers had already fallen asleep and would not witness the departure of their fallen victims.

As the final streams of blue sunlight made their exit, giving way to the utter darkness that soon consumed the land beneath the gaze of the wine-colored mountains, the slain people disappeared with no trace of their life or their death left behind.


© River R.