Ashes to ashes – Metrius – Post 24

The last mile was a hellish ride, nightmares plaguing his mind. He could picture Alkaterina, killed by the animals he had seen back in Rome. The thugish brutes who fought for Romulus raping and pillaging the village he called home. They would slaughter his friends and family alike, like cattle whose necks were slit open by the farmer’s blade. He painted pictures that burned in his mind; roofs aflame and victims with their guts spilled. And all the while Kephalos would watch and laugh, mocking in his suffering at Romulus’s side.

They stung into him, making tears weep from his weary eyes, and he felt the felt the pit open in his stomach. He could not live without his love, his wife Alkaterina, and now Kephalos was taking her away from him. Just as his mentality was pushed to his limit, so was his body’s endurance with muscles that pleaded only for rest and an end to the ride. It felt as if he was being stabbed, so worn was his body, but again and again he urged the horse onward. Would he be of any use when he got there, probably not, but he had to know and he had to know now.

Carrying him down into the valley where his village sat, the track wound down between the slopes of the hilly countryside. Since he was young it had been his voyage home, loving faces waiting for him and warm meals with his parents and sister. He remembered traveling home with his father from fishing, a small trip they regularly took to the rivers nearby. There were plenty of waters that were rich with fish, and his father had taught him to spear them. In the evening they had roasted the golden scaled by the campfire, skewering them on sticks that held them above the flames. Stars shining above them, they had strolled the path that even now he rode down.

There was no more home. Instead, what lay before him was the blackened shell of his village. Smoke rose from charred remains, ashes caked the floor and floated down through the air as if it rained death. The ground was littered with bodies, mutilated by the men who had slain and murdered without remorse. A dog whimpered, dragging a broken leg behind it. There was nothing left.

Sliding off his horse, Metrius thumped to the group, twisting his ankle and sending him toppling to the floor. His arm striking the ground a sharp pain bolted through his elbow but he did not feel it. Instead he scrambled up once more, half running and half walking towards his home. Stumbling he cried out, calling out for Alkaterina in desperation.

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