Blackness.

Shea strained her eyes to make out anything around her but no light shone through. Darkness was like a heavy cloak pushed over her head. She struggled to free herself but something was surrounding her from all directions. It weighed heavily on her chest and it was becoming hard to breathe.

Her heart sped up. She tried to move her limbs. A short gasp left her lips as she moved her legs. They were squished under something and the barest of motions sent pangs of agony racing through her body.

She clenched her teeth, wishing herself not to start crying. All she could remember was her mother shouting something unintelligible, pushing her down and using her powers to shape the ground around her into a box. It must have been for protection but this was not how it was supposed to end.

Her left hand was twisted underneath her and she could feel a crusty layer of what was probably dried blood on it. Smell it.

Clenching her teeth she tried to move her other hand, and succeeded without any pain. Stunned, she lay still for a moment. A ragged laugh escaped as she thought herself blessed for this little miracle. It was so very little yet made her feel stronger, that maybe there was a way out of this.

As she thought that, it started to get harder to breathe.

She tried calming herself down and taking deep breaths but there didn’t seem to be enough air around. What she got in, wasn’t even close to enough. Her lungs expanded to try and draw more in but were unable.

Shivers racked her body as she tried to breathe but could not. Gasping for air, she clawed at her throat but it didn’t help. Her heart was racing as fast as an antelope now, demanding sustenance to continue which Shea couldn’t provide.

In a panic, she dived for the energy pool within her and brought the energy out. It spilled through her fingers, evaporating in the air but there was plenty of it within.

She raised her right hand upwards and the energy streamed through her, leaving her with a heady rush of power; invincibility. It calmed her frantic heart and she realised what she’d done as the world came crashing down upon her.

The energies turned stone into dust which then fell in torrents over her. She pushed herself against the stone below her, wishing to turn away from the outpouring. It went into her nose and eyes, mouth, bringing out a coughing fit. She coughed and hacked for a good while until the dust settled and she could focus on the rumbling sounds surrounding her.

The stones were shifting, no longer supported by the ones that sat above her head. Any moment now they would topple over, crushing her.

Taking a shivering breath, Shea brought her legs closer to herself. From the minuscule light from above she could see the red streaks on them, purple bruises and closed wounds but there didn’t seem to be any major damage. Or so she thought until she tried to push herself to stand up.

She screamed in agony as lightning coursed through her right leg. On the backside of her shin there was a wide slash full of dirt and blood. The bleeding had stopped previously but her movement had opened the wound and it was now seeping out once more.

Unwelcome tears streamed out from her eyes and she cleaned them up with the back of her hand. This was no time to wallow in misery. She had to leave this place and find out what had happened to her home. Her mother had never before worn such a look of pure undiluted horror.

There was a little bit of energy left within her so she reached for her shin. Hot pain threatened to force her unconscious. But she took deep breaths and closing her eyes began using her power of shaping. The energy was slow in coming, its remnants having to be scooped up from the all the corners. That mad burst of power previously used up most of what she had.

“I can do this,” she whispered to herself, ignoring the sounds of stones grinding against each other. There was still time. First was healing and then she could think about getting out.

Energy poured through her hand and she imagined her leg being fine. It was a far stretch from a true healing but the best she could manage. Old blood turned into sinews connecting the broken ones, dirt changed into blood and skin patched up the wound until it was gone.

With hesitation Shea reached for her leg, touching it with the right hand. Her fingers trailed over where the wound had been but nothing happened. No pain assailed her. All she felt was the clean skin. Unmarred by any marks or scars.

“See, you’re fine,” she told herself in a quivering voice. The sounds around her were intensifying and she had no more energy for shaping. If anything unexpected were to happen, she was no better off than a normal human. No shaping to save her life at the last second, make a miracle happen.

Pushing herself up, she stood still for a moment. There was silver light coming from above, suggesting night had come. It was early morning when she had last been on the surface. Before her mother had buried her under the stones.

The walls around her were high but with dozens of handholds. On a normal day it would be child’s play to climb up. But not in the darkness. Not with a broken hand up on unstable stones.

Yet she had no choice. If she stayed much longer, everything would fall on her. Any gust of wind might push a little rock and the whole place would come tumbling down. The faster she was out of here, the better. Decisiveness would be her saviour here.

She reached for the stones before her, finding a decent handhold. Then another. Few reaches up, her left hand contracted and she fell backwards with a scream. Her back hit the ground with a crunch and she rolled into a small ball of suffering.

It hurt. Everything hurt so much. Why had her mother done this to her?

No, she pushed such thoughts away. She was no longer a small child and could take care of herself. Mother had believed in her to be able to leave this place on her own. Maybe she was being waited upon in the village even now, once the horrible danger had passed.

Whatever it had been.

She straightened and with a determined look faced the wall once more. Blood trickled down her left hand but she focused on her path up. If she chose only the larger stones that were most settled, she should be able to get out.

This was just a test of her determination. Together with the village’s children she had scaled much more dangerous places. All she needed to do was start on moving. Once half-way through, there wouldn’t be anything else to do and she’d reach the top in no time.

Not wasting more time for pep talks, she reached for the wall and started climbing. One grip after another. Her left hand was slippery from the blood but she just gripped tighter with it. There wouldn’t be any falling this time.

The stone under her right hand cracked and left her hanging on one hand. She winced from the pain but did not let go. Instead, she found another handhold and without resting went on climbing higher. Moonlight was coming closer. It was guiding her with its wary light.

One hand over. She rested then, unable to move any longer. Exhaustion and pain were warring within her mind as she was trying to force herself to pull her body up. One last task and she could rest.

Someone would be there to help her to the village. They must have sensed her shaping, if not seen a hole opening up in the ground. Maybe not, if it was night. But then children would find her very early in the morning. It wouldn’t be long from now.

But first she needed to get over the edge. Her fingers were chipped and bloodied as they grabbed onto the often sharp stones, and held on. Right hand felt like it was going to pull out from its socket, having held up most of her weight through the climb. It hadn’t been too high, or maybe it had been. She could no longer tell besides it feeling like forever.

Another reach and it would be over. She extended her hand and felt the left slipping.

She was falling!

Terror surged, giving her an extra burst of energy and she caught the ledge, pulled herself over and rolled away in a tumble of limbs. Chest raising in uneven intakes of breath, she uncurled herself and settled on her back, staring at the moon above.

It was shining full without a care in the world. Stars danced around it like fireflies, littering the whole sky. Each one had a name and a story but Shea’s mind was blank. Even recollecting her own scattered pieces of memory was an effort.

Maybe if she rested for a moment? Her eyes closed on their own volition and she fell into a deep sleep. No nightmares or dreams could pass through the exhaustion.

When Shea opened her eyes, it was still dark. Or once again. She wasn’t certain how much time had passed since she blacked out. Her body felt stiff and rigid, frozen. It was a challenge to flex her muscles and push herself off the ground.

In dim moonlight, she surveyed her surroundings. The ground was layered in grey particles, even her own body. With a careful touch, she reached for it and had her suspicions confirmed; ash. The whole world around her was covered in dust and ash.

It sent a shiver down her spine.

Surrounding her should have been fields of grass. Green stalks singing to the wind in a whisper, small flowers reflecting the moon’s silver light. Her footsteps would be muted by the damp ground as it gave way under her weight. She had often come out to look at the stars and not once seen a night like this.

Standing up, Shea lifted herself on her toes and tried to decipher whether this was really her home. Maybe she was somehow moved to another place? It sounded more likely than her home becoming a nightmarish place like this.

Tree tops in the distance caught her attention and they were too familiar for her liking. With careful steps, she started walking in that direction. Ash swirled around her ankles, getting in her way but she ignored it for the most part.

There was little she could do about it and her destination was awaiting her. Those trees had towered over her whole childhood, standing like sentinels around the village. People believed they had been there from the beginning of time since no one could remember a time without them. All tales had them standing there; strong and tall, watching over the villagers and their short lived lives.

A foreboding feeling rose in Shea as she saw the scorched and blackened barks of the outward trees. They were standing but many branches had burnt and fallen to the ground, no leaves in sight. It was like the worst nightmare from her childhood, one that mother said was just a dream.

As she stepped into a pathway, her breath caught in her throat. Right there, at the entrance of the temple lay a body. Its head was turned away but Shea could recognise that dirty blonde hair anywhere; it was exactly like her own.

She ran through the ash, stumbling on a half-buried stone and falling at her mother’s side. With trembling fingers she reached for her head and brushed the ash off her face as she put it in her lap.

The familiar features were twisted into a mask of horror and pain. She touched the wrinkles, pushing them to be less prominent and stared at her mother’s eyes. They were a strange greenish blue and as wide as they could go. Shea wondered what horrors they had seen as her body started to tremble.

“Mother,” she whispered in a broken voice, lowering her head to touch the woman’s forehead with her own. Tears rolled down her cheeks and fell on the lifeless face below.

No more would it smile up at her and tell her not to worry, everything would be all right. This was all just part of the Lady’s plan.

Shea squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see the lifeless eyes below her. How could this have happened? She could remember her mother suddenly stopping as if struck by something, then pushing her down and with a forced smile telling her to stay still. Darkness had surrounded her and she’d lost consciousness.

It might have been part of mother’s plan but what had happened? What had come to their peaceful little village?

No answer came to her as she sobbed with her mother in her arms. The cold body spread a chill through her and she felt herself freezing. It felt like betrayal that she could worry about such things as her own comfort when her mother was no longer here.

How could she be so heartless?

Tightening the robe around herself, she hugged her mother closer. It was wrong, unbelievable. Impossible. Her home was in ashes and her mother gone. Most likely the whole village.

That thought elicited fresh tears. Everyone had cared for her, loved her in their own way even if they hadn’t been on best of terms all the time. This was a small village, they couldn’t have lived together without learning to understand and respect each other.

Memories of helping the villager’s came to her mind; joking, laughing with them. Then something even worse came to her mind. Children, her little companions that always followed her everywhere. What had become of them?

She couldn’t make herself think of their small bodies burnt to cinder like the trees around the village. It was too painful a thought. They had been just kids! No one deserved to die so young. She hiccuped, tears blinding her sight.

Maybe they escaped.

They didn’t have to die. Maybe her mother managed to save them just like her? Invigorated by that thought she jumped up and started running around aimlessly. Was that a silent cry she was hearing? Could that have been a soft voice whispering from beneath those rocks?

She walked and stumbled, stood up and fell again; listening for soft voices she wouldn’t have been able to hear through her own crying. Her shaping ability was flung right and left, turning mounds of rock into dust until she could no longer lift a finger.

Even then, she reached for stones beneath her in an attempt to find something underneath. There was no Energy left in her body and it refused to give up any more life essence, forcing her into a mindless exhaustion. She blacked out, tears making trails down her dusty features.

Upon hearing her breathing evening out, Iago moved out from a shadow of a giant dead tree. He spared but a glance to the lying girl before moving to his destination; the fallen in temple.

It must have been a simple, though, large structure. Wide pillars lay on sides, parts of them broken off and blocking his path to the entrance. He jumped on one of them to look for a way to squeeze through. Maybe there was a little space that would let him get inside.

No such luck. The building had toppled within itself, rather than to a side. This meant all the crumbled pieces were between Iago and what he needed. His stomach grumbled and he massaged it with the back of his hand. “Soon, soon. There has to be something edible in this pile of ruins.”

As he said that, he jumped down to land on a stable looking pillar. Moving with care he reached its end and lowered his hand to touch the stones there. Energy currents pounced at his command, passing through his body and dashing out to do his bidding.

He winced from the strain upon his body but focused his mind to shape the stone below. It was dangerous to just turn it to dust in one go, like the girl had done, and he was careful to do it slowly. He changed only the stones that lay most freely, not supporting the ruins and started moving down.

The power shredded his body as he kept it contained within himself but that was part of being a shaper. He had never thought it was this dangerous before but then again, he’d been a normal powerless human at the time. Not that he could complain about receiving this power. It was the thing that had kept him alive for these two weeks after the Scourge.

There was space below not created by him and he let the Energies go, dropping to his feet. Dust rose around his boots but there was no ash. “Good,” he murmured. It meant nobody had been here before him. The place might not be looted yet.

Not that he’d seen any so. It was just that he hadn’t expected to meet the girl here. She looked like a survivor but that was unusual. Most people left their homes in search of food and shelter the same day after the destruction, not waited days after.

At least those who wanted to live.

And she should be able to survive in this dead land. Like him, she was a shaper and one even stronger if her misuse of power was anything to go by. It had been long since he’d seen someone so talented and reckless, unaware of their own capabilities.

It was a wonder how she had survived through the madness that had ravaged the land. An accident, probably. He laughed to himself, slowly moving deeper into the darkness. Who was he to judge? It wasn’t skill that had kept him alive, either.

No, just pure dumb luck.

The surroundings were too dark to see anything so he took a few steps back and unslung his backpack. From there he took out a torch, lowered it to the ground and took the tinderbox from his belt. Striking the sharp edge of the flint at the fire steel, he produced a few sparks which caught on fire.

With the torch now unveiling the place, he rose to his feet. Crumbling walls met his seeking gaze and he quickened his step. The ceiling was cracked and at parts caved in. He had to care for the stones on the ground that were right in the places to trip him.

“Curse it,” he muttered stopping before a caved in wall. It was blocking his advance and there was no way around it. “Now, I have to risk it again.”

Moving the torch about, he looked at the stones. Most of them seemed to have been part of the ceiling, decorative designs suggesting a temple’s main flooring. Luckily, most parts were quite large which meant he could remove a few smaller stones without toppling the whole structure. Probably.

Not that he had a choice. He was famished and there wasn’t anything edible for miles about. It was hard to remember the last time he had anything to fill his ever complaining stomach.

Closing his eyes, he reached for the Energy currents. They leapt at his command, clawing through his veins like mad beasts. Filled with uncontrollable power, one that burgeoned on tearing him apart any moment, he focused it on the two stones near the bottom. They were small enough not to have any effect on the structure but wide enough to let him crawl through once gone.

Burst of power and the stones were gone. Dust motes floated in leisure until settling down on the ground.

Iago listened for any unwelcome sounds but hearing nothing released the power from within him. It dashed out, leaving him feeling weak and forlorn. “This is annoying,” he murmured to himself, going on his knees and right hand with the torch first, crawling through the newly made tunnel.

Down there, it showed up there were more stones he had to remove if he wanted to go forward. A slow look upwards revealed a ton of rocks above his head and body. One wrong move and he would be buried alive.

He swallowed hard, watching the stones around him. Food was important but he could shape it in the worst case scenario. Problem was, it left him exhausted and he wouldn’t be able to survive like that for more than a week. Death would be imminent if he didn’t find supplies in that time.

Yet, if he pursued his goal here, he might die right now. No week to try and reach some ruins or encounter other survivors. He would be done in a second. Less most likely.

Fire crackled, choking him with smoke as he contemplated the best way to die.

Energy currents were all around him and they tempted him to just use them. They would help him survive anything. Shapers were all-powerful, weren’t they? Nothing could get in their way; not other people, not nature. They could shape the world in their image.

Knowing it was a mistake, Iago gave in to the temptation. Quick death was better than a prolonged one, after all. This was a countryside and it might be a month before he reached another settlement. Or a day after the continents, lands and oceans were smashed together creating a world that no longer resembled the one he’d lived in.

“No, don’t think,” he told himself, coughing from the smoke. He had to move in one direction or another if he didn’t want to suffocate first. “Let’s do this.”

Once more he reached for the currents and received their eager reply. Power rushing through his body, he blasted the stones before him and ran. Well, crawled as fast as he could. One second, two. Something was groaning, shifting above him. Three, four. Dust blinded him but he reached forward, the light of the torch flickering before him.

Five, and he was out. Sprawling on the ground, he took-in deep breaths and rolled over to see what was above him. High ceiling, a hole - he was distracted by a smell. His belly ached at the mere thought of food and he jumped to his feet.

On his right there was a door and he went through; the door banging loud in the empty space behind him. The torch’s light flickered from the rush of air but Iago could see the marvellous sight before him. He stood watching it for a moment, eyes shining bright.

Lines upon lines of cheeses and dried fruits hugging the walls. Sausages and dried meat was hanging from the ceiling in rows. He fell on his knees, unable to believe his luck. This was just too good.

The next second he was on his feet, pushing a large chunk of cheese into his mouth. The taste close to pushed him to his knees once more. He was going to fill himself. And there was food aplenty, he will be able to survive with this much for a month if he saved it.

Calming down, he sat down by the wall and munched while looking around. The place was well built, though, not as large as he had thought upon first entering it. In truth, the room was no more than three man heights long and one wide.

Shelves lined the right side with cheeses and vegetables covering most of the space. Further in, he could see jars with berries, strange liquids and dried mushrooms. To the left of them hung various herbs he didn’t recognise and closer towards him were the sausages. He had cut one off and now was chewing on it slowly, his stomach having been decently filled.

One thing missing, though, was water. He needed to drink but there was nothing he recognised, and he didn’t dare to try something from the jars. He’d known people who kept their rat poison among food supplies. It was maddening, but better stay safe. There had been enough risks for one day.

Or not. He looked at the doors, wondering how he was going to take all this food out. He had some cloth he could wrap into a makeshift bag but it wouldn’t fit through the hole he’d crawled through. Not that he would trust it not to fall on his head.

It was clear he’d have to find another way out. Most promising was the hole in the ceiling he’d seen in the room below. If he could reach it, then the surface wouldn’t be far.

That decided he left the room and looked for a way up. There was no direct path, but he could probably try scaling the walls. Because of all the cracks and fallen out stones, it shouldn’t be too hard. As long as they didn’t crumble under his hands or feet.

Shaking his head to push useless thoughts away, he found a good place to leave the torch and rubbed his hands in preparation. It was easy finding handholds and he was up and away. Left hand there, right foot in that crack while left higher there. Rocks slipped under his right hand but he held on and reached the top.

No easy way to go to the middle of the room so he called upon the Energy currents. Using them he shaped stones into handholds he could hang from and one at a time moved towards the collapsed part of the ceiling. When it was right before him, he swung himself back and forth before jumping in.

The feat would have been glorious had he succeeded to catch his balance. Instead he landed on his feet but found himself falling backwards. His hands flailed trying to balance him, failing, reaching for something, not finding anything.

At the last moment, he saw a stone by the hole’s side and pushed all the Energy into shaping it into a metal rod. It went from one side to another, slamming into the backside of his knees. Pain surged through him but with an inhuman willpower he managed to flex his muscles and steady himself on the rod.

“Ha, ha...” he laughed, letting his body hang for a moment.

He had gotten up, all right. Just how was he supposed to get anywhere from here? The shaping had blasted all his energy, leaving him with the powers of a kitten. It was better than falling three man heights on his back and into some sharp stones, but not by much.

Minutes passed as he rested, and dared pulling himself up. This time it was much smoother and he stood on the upper floor, looking around in darkness. It was hard to see but he saw a pile of ashes in one corner and tried moving stones around there.

Most were too heavy but a few gave way and he found himself staring into the afternoon sun. How long exactly had he been here? With the troubled thought he widened the entrance until he could easily move back and forth, then took out a rope from his backpack.

After tying it around the iron rod, he made his way down. There he packed as much food as he could carry into an improvised extra bag and securing it to himself, climbed back up. It wasn’t easy with extra weight but the thought of going hungry again pushed him onwards.

At the top, he returned the rope to his backpack and went outside. Sun was setting and he made his way through the ruins. Stones shifted from his weight so he hurried forward, not wanting to stay on this uncertain footing longer than he needed to.

Jumping off the last fallen pillar, he landed on steady ground and breathed a sigh of relief. He had managed to secure another tomorrow for himself. As he thought that, his gaze strayed to the ground before him.

A woman’s corpse lay there, half squashed under the collapsed entrance arc. She was staring at him with eyes full of unimaginable terror and fear. He stooped to close them when noticing something behind her. It was just a piece of cloth but after putting his packs away and moving a few stones, he saw the crushed little body underneath.

He winced at the sight before putting the stones back. The dead woman looked at him as if with chagrin; he had forgotten to close her eyes. “Fine,” he muttered to her silent plea. It was only right that in exchange for food, he would put them all to rest.

It was going to be a long night.