The third night...
The refugee group had already moved; left behind was a strong smell of iron, crimson soil, and dozens of unmoving bodies.
Sacrifices had to be made, it was Dawn herself who had put them down.
She told them that they had no other choice, that they had to move on without them. Some of the injured couldn't respond, but after a moment of silence, the rest acknowledged their fates. How could they resist their harsh realities anyway?
The cold weight of her spear felt heavier each time it fell. The leaf-shaped blade bled red, and the tassel attached to it had moistened, too. The subtle noises of wheezing, breathing, and sputtering coughs died out slowly.
Dawn swung, tearing through skin and sinew, making sure her method effectively released the foul odours of blood and guts. She moved to the next, over and over again.
Soon, Dawn leaned on her spear, the near-silence fell into total silence.
Of course, the thunderous sounds of collisions had never stopped, but it felt all the more quieter now. It rang in her ears like a reminder; it felt faint, but she would never let go of that sound.
For her people, and for herself, Dawn refused to let go of that sound.
She slowly walked away from the blood-stained site and crossed the river, still holding on desperately to that faraway sound.
...
The group of refugees moved quietly and cautiously through the forest, now descending the mountain's slope. The shaking ground and roaring air ceased and resumed in discordant intervals, but they didn't have a strong influence on the people anymore.
Dawn regrouped with the people and led from the front once again. She was silent, so were her friends, and so were the hundreds of people behind her.
Physical fatigue plagued their bodies. Doubt and worry assaulted their minds countless times, their minds reeled in fear or horror countless times more.
Having to sacrifice those few dozen injured left a heavy weight on their minds, and the nights ahead promised them nothing better.
...
The fourth night came. They descended to the foot of the mountain, resting before moving towards and through the next. Miraculously, they had not been attacked by any beasts, yet.
Although to their horror, the fierce battle, despite being left far behind, soared abruptly in intensity.
Violent tremors shook the ground, the trees flailed helplessly, and even the mountain wavered in the face of such might. The earth roared, the lands creaked before rupturing; the mountain suffered a heavy impact as the slope caved in and cracks ran up the mountain's peak.
The refugees were on the opposite slope, but they still suffered the aftershock; clouds of dirt loomed over the sky, and shattered rock from the mountain's peak came tumbling down towards the helpless party.
Dawn burst out with a tremendous and desperate aura as she ran to the back of the group. Grasping her spear tightly, the blade burned white hot as Dawn raised it in the air.
She swung downwards, drawing a beautiful, white arc that tore the air. A crescent blade flew out and whistled, flying up the slope of the mountain and towards the first few boulders.
It smashed into one with intense energy, cutting the entire boulder in half; the intense heat continued to incinerate the boulder as it fell further down the slope, eventually turning into a plume of ash.
The white crescent blade continued through and burst through another two boulders. The surrounding guards followed Dawn's lead, unleashing a flurry of white crescent blades up the mountain, against the tumbling debris.
Half an hour passed as the tremors desisted, and the avalanche of rock and dirt had ceased too. Some people were inevitably injured, but they were quickly tended to by Sun.
Tiredly, the guards fell to their knees. Dawn stood tall before trudging back to the group. The lands stopped shaking.
When the dirt finally cleared, gentle starlight glazed over the lands with a grey hue. The clouds were broken in streaks due to the mere shockwaves of fighting, but it helped to reveal even more of the starry sky.
Dawn left her absent gaze high, the stars pierced through Night's sky and the dark lands below, shedding gently unto her skin. Solemnity fell upon her face too, she breathed out a thankful sigh.
With the clouds parted and the stars above shining brightly upon the land, it felt like a small bit of salvation given to them.
Although the fighting hadn't ceased or hushed, the starlight gave them the hope to move forward once again, as it always had.
With a courageous order, the refugees quickly reassembled under Dawn's command, moving away from the now-battered mountain, resuming their trek.
...
Amidst the rustling leaves and howling winds, chatter and whispers sparked between the refugees, never had the starlight looked so bright before.
It served as a reminder of the home they had fled from, the Star Gazing Settlement, but also a reminder of their will and purpose.
Dawn was indulged in their chattering, reminiscing on her youth and the story her father had told her, it was a story that every refugee here had heard before too...
'The stars above are archaic, but Night had existed since time immemorial.
The early years of the world were ruled solely by Night, glazing the skies in an abyssal black, the seas like rippling ink, and the lands no more than a bleak expanse.
There was no Light, no 'Passage of Time', nor a 'Sense of Direction'.
Salvation was only a word, not yet a name the mired could plead to.
Dreams were only speculation, not yet an experience that the suffering could afford.
Will had only its absence, not yet a means to lead the lowly.
A golden youth pierced through Night's embrace, descending to the lands below and scattering the near dark to mere shadows.
Walking along the soil, he travelled North's plateaus, teaching its denizens how to walk.
Swimming in the water, he roamed East's seas and isles, teaching its denizens how to swim.
Flying through the clouds, he soared above South's cliffs, teaching its denizens how to fly.
Everywhere he traversed, he left behind a 'Way of Life'.
The golden youth brought the Passage of Time and the Sense of Direction.
Eventually, he would tread West's mountains, leaving behind his last teachings.
"I know the world, not the dark. I know my Way, not your Way. I know of stars, not of the Hopelessness of Night."
Raising his finger to the sky and shedding into particles of light, he would speak his final words to the whole world.
"All stand below Night, Night stands below the Heavens.
Heaven is indifferent, its benevolence does not extend past life.
Night is also indifferent, its malevolence does not extend towards death.
It is your choice to leave, it is also your choice to stay.
But! There is always a Way..."
His golden wisp would be assimilated back into Night, but not to be forgotten...
There, lonely in the sky, was a golden speck.
There, lonely in the sky, was a golden light.
There, lonely in the sky, was the first star...
Thus, he brought Light'
The years thereafter, the once lowly, the once suffering, and the once mired; the people found their own Way, thus, they could rebel against the 'Hopelessness of Night'.
Eras would fly by in seconds, and the once lonely star in the sky was no longer lonely. Then, the 'Star Sea' was born.
Dawn heard that story very often; it was told to her, when she was young; it was told to Sun and Selene, when they were children too; every refugee has heard it at least once in their life; it was an important story to all life in the world, and their Settlement too.
The Star Gazing Settlement, once a desolate but well-populated Settlement in West's mountains.
Their Settlement was attacked by greater forces, and Dawn's father alone remained to fight off the attacking enemies as she evacuated everyone else. Their morale had fallen, and despair ran through the refugees. Yet now, with the Star Sea shedding gently upon their heads, its consoling light soothed their fearful minds.
...
The fifth night came in.
Dawn was silently leading the group as always, but the feeling of dread had stuck with her mind.
The air was quiet, the lands and sky barely shaking, like a waning storm, or the hour before one.
None of the other refugees could sense it, and few of the guards carried worried expressions, founded only on suspicion.
Selene had no questions, but could read the complex emotions on Dawn's face. Sun had many questions, feeling a cold shiver rake down his spine, but with Dawn's absentminded expression, he kept them to himself.
Just before the sixth night's eve, the world trembled with unbelievable might.
Dawn, Sun, Selene, the guards, and the refugees all fell to the ground.
Overwhelming power could be felt behind them, a malevolent force and a benevolent force collided. The mountain behind them had shattered completely, raining shards and dirt onto the refugee party, and an immense cloud of debris had swallowed them whole.
Hours passed before the chaos had settled, but their vision was still obscured. Around half of the refugee party had been lost immediately, but how many had they lost exactly?
Dawn slowly rose to her feet and scanned the surrounding area. Mist had flooded the forest, a great fog had swallowed the mountain; the world was obscured. Unlike the gentle light grey of the starlit sky, this bluish-grey was murky and thick.
Eyeing close to fifty people around her, she gathered the little group and tried to establish some sort of order... and some sort of goal.
The ominous foreboding that loomed over her had finally been realized.
Hopelessly, she cast her gaze to the sky above; nothing but clouds and mist hung high above.
The stars were obscured once again...