Ashen walked for what felt like hours, but his legs were small, so he didn't get far. He ended up near the edge of the village, where the weeds were taller than him and the wind didn't carry voices anymore.
The sky was black behind him. His house — what used to be a house — glowed like a lantern about to go out. Orange heat rose into the night, carrying smoke and ash and the last smell of home.
He sat on the dry ground, knees to his chest. Dirt clung to his skin, and blood had dried on his fingers from crawling through broken clay. His eyes stung, but not just from the smoke.
They were all gone.
Ma.
Ragan.
Father.
Even Grandfather, strange and distant as he was.
Ashen blinked at the stars, but they looked different now. Colder. He wondered if they'd always been that way and he just never noticed.
The fire cracked behind him. Somewhere, a dog barked once and went silent.
"Why…" he whispered. His voice sounded strange. Thin. Like it didn't belong to him.
He looked down at his hands. They trembled.
"Why did you leave me?"
He didn't know who he was asking. His mother was buried. His brother, too. His father had stood in the fire like he belonged there. And his grandfather had died talking to things that didn't answer.
Ashen bit his lip. "Why am I still here?"
The question echoed inside his chest. He waited for something to answer — a breeze, a whisper, even the voice of a god his mother used to say didn't exist. But there was nothing. Not even the wind.
"I didn't do anything," he said. "I didn't… I didn't do anything wrong."
His throat tightened. He dug his fingers into the dirt.
"Why me?"
The words came sharper now, cracking.
"Why am I the only one left? Why—" He choked.
"I want Ma," he said, softer. "I want her back. Please. Please. Please—"
His voice broke. Something deep inside him broke with it.
Ashen screamed.
He screamed like the world had collapsed inside his chest. Like every heartbeat was a hammer and every breath was fire. His body shook, his fists pounding the dirt, his knees scraped and raw.
"I WANT HER BACK!" he howled. "I WANT THEM BACK!"
But the stars just watched. Distant. Cold.
No one came.
So he kept screaming.
Until his voice grew hoarse. Until his lungs gave out. Until all that came was dry air and pain.
Ashen buried his face in his arms and sobbed until he couldn't tell whether he was breathing or breaking. Tears soaked the dust. His tiny body curled into itself like it could shrink out of the world.
He was seven.
And he was alone.
And the only thing that answered was silence
That was then but what now...