Mortality

Post-apocalyptic/Dystopian. Yvaine thought she finally understood the meaning of mortality.

Mortality is defined by the remnants of a long passed language as 'the state of being subject to death'. When explained to an aristocratic 12 year old child by her equally nobly blooded mother, mortality was given the meaning of 'nothing lasts forever'. Forever is an awfully large concept for a child to grasp, but this one was determined to ponder upon it.

As the eldest of three children with the prerogative of a most proclaimed wealth, Yvaine was by far more intelligent than her similarly privileged and aged acquaintances (for there are no friends, she was taught early on, in the ever evolving arena of the rich) and - as such - was far more delighted than any average child would be upon discovering her parents' decision to allow their children to accompany them to the esteemed Opera. Esteemed, as it was, for being a most extravagant social playground for all whom's bank contents outweighed their pampered bodies in gold.

Throughout the carriage ride to their outrageously elaborate destination, Yvaine made a show of being far more mature and controlled than her two younger siblings, sitting primly and apart from their childish antics of bouncing excitedly upon their deluxe seats. It would not do for a lady to express any form of emotion, even to her own kin, less it be used against her in the complex politics of aristocracy. Delighted though she may be (and, in fact, equally enthusiastic as her brother and sister), there were certain expectations of her tonight; the reason her parents had brought her at all, Yvaine's educated mind suspected.

The little noble had no doubt that her Lord and Lady father and mother were well aware of her speculations, and their lack of denials were all the confirmation she needed. It took little time for her to decide not to waste her time with something as un-lady like as worrying, but instead ponder more upon her lessons of life and death from her tutor - a close family friend whom, as she understood it, saved her own life from the lavish-less abyss on the fortuitous day of her birth. His lessons on the human body and its mortality had been riveting, even bewildering. Forever, she knew, was a notion that would mystify her to madness less she with all her intelligence grasped it's flummoxing concept.

What Yvaine would have no time to ponder, however, was the cosmic joke of a contrast so vast between delight and despair that any whom survived it would be left in a permanent state of unfortunate emotional whiplash.

The ornate opulence of a marble pillar was no less marvellous to behold on its side in smoking rubble then it was stood proudly in the Opera Theatre's entrance hall - as it had in fact been but a few moments ago. When the explosions had first started, many of the ostentatiously clad nobles had turned up their noses at the nervousness displayed by the Theatre's less-than-rich staff. For what, exactly, did the rich and privileged have to fear from The Supremes that guarded their fortune?

A well known fact in Providence is that the more Supremes there are in a family, the higher the family's status. Only the most prestigious and well acclaimed families were invited to the Opera that night. No Supreme would attack their own relatives, surely!

Attitudes were quick to morph from superiority to terror when the artistically painted ceiling collapsed with a sudden roar on top of Providence's finest aristocrats.

In a twist of irony, Yvaine had just been discussing The Supremes with her father; her mother distracting her younger sister and baby brother with brochures of the evening's would-be performance. As the first blast desecrated the ceiling above, Yvaine had been shoved towards the exit before her father's desperate figure launched itself across the immaculate flooring in a daring attempt to reach his endangered family in time. Perhaps, had he not in his desperation challenged the immense power of gravity to a fruitless race, his Lordship may have survived the collapse of the building.

Yvaine had little time to catch her balance in her shocked state when another explosion shattered through the air above her. Curling her small arms over her trembling head and neck, she shrieked in terror, unable to comprehend such a drastic and sudden change to her surroundings. When the heat singeing the air around her subsided, she looked up to see three Supremes.

One was flying, his colourless suit of armour identifying him as the Emperor's personal guard. He carried in his muscled arms another Supreme, outfitted in the same ensemble that did little to hide her feminine figure. She was shooting fire out of her hands, a blazing inferno that never ceased, at the final Supreme.

He was fast. He was no more than a blur to Yvaine's young eyes, only visible when he stopped to dodge the oncoming blaze aimed at him. His outfit of civilian clothing was torn to pieces, but a beautiful silver pin engraved with a rising sun caught Yvaine's eyes as it reflected the scorching light directed at it.

The three Supremes exchanged not a word as their battle raged on over the extravagant cemetery they had created. A battle it could barely be called, however, as after only a few seconds of Yvaine's frightened spectating the inhumanly fast Supreme ran out of fortune. With a pained gasp swallowed by the roaring inferno, his body was consumed in flames. Wide eyed, Yvaine could only watch in stunned horror as the still moving body burned to blackness and collapsed to the ground in ash. Only then did the female Supreme's power cease.

Without even a look at the catastrophic loss of both historical buildings and the nobly blooded, the remaining male Supreme flew both himself and his fiery passenger out of the rubble. No one raised their eyes from the devastation to watch them leave.

It took less than five minutes for the Officials to arrive. Each armed with both a sulphuric weapon and their merciless countenance, they surrounded the area and drove off all civilians enraptured by the tragedy of the newly made ruins. A ruckus arose in a side alley next to the fallen Opera; a rising sun (as depicted by the few non-banned history books - only the condemned saw the sun in Providence) had been painted onto a miraculously intact wall in silver in the short time between the collapse and the Officials' arrival. Officers then began turning on all suspicious civilians, seeking to find those responsible.

A rising sun - the emblem of the Rebellion.

The commotion was enough to rouse Yvaine from her horror stricken daze. Looking around slowly, as if in a trance, she took in the once beautiful white pillar lying part on top of and part buried by large debris. With a shock to her system as powerful as the metallic blows being delivered cruelly to unco-operative bystanders but a few feet away, the young blue blood remembered the desperate dash of her father towards her family.

Eyes wide in denial, Yvaine spun to see where both reception desk and her family had once stood. All that stood there now was marble and concrete piled so high she had to crane her little neck to see the top. Unaware of even running, she found herself dropping to her knees before the closest part of the fallen construction materials. Raising trembling hands, she reached out as if to touch the rubble, but never made contact.

There was no doubt in her highly educated mind that none of her family had survived.

The faces of her baby brother, mother and father were an unmoving picture behind her watering eyes. Yvaine ached to scream out, to cast to the wind all her teachings of being a composed young lady, but her voice escaped her. The tracks left on her young, rounded cheeks by her tears traversing a path of dust and ash went unnoticed as she remained frozen with her hands raised before her family's burial ground.

Her little sister's name was repeated in a mantra inside her overwhelmed head. Her darling sister, whom only that morning Yvaine had caught borrowing her jewellery so that she could look 'as beautiful as her big sister for the Opera!'

Her throat worked silently around her name, desperate to hear it, as if hearing her name would erase death. Yvaine tried repeatedly, each time more sound leaving her, until eventually a scream of anguish tore itself from her.

"AEYA!!!"

She screamed the name again and again, finally reaching the final distance to the debris and scrabbling uselessly at it. Even the steps of an approaching Official behind her didn't pull her from her broken reverie.

The crackle of a radio finally brought her attention away from the dead. "Sir, I've found a survivor."

Yvaine turned to face the officer after hearing his deep, mechanical voice. There was a small pause as the officer's superior registered the information. Another crackle of the radio.

"There are no survivors, officer."

The Official's inhuman tone chilled her. "Understood, sir."

He raised the barrel of his gun to point right between Yvaine's tear blinded eyes.

Yvaine thought she finally understood the meaning of mortality.

Author's Note

This is one of multiple possible prologue a for a story/graphic novel I have in the works, so any and all comments would be of great use to me - in other words, please feel free to share all thoughts!