The moment the words left my mouth, the golden street shuddered. The dream violently fractured, shattering into a million pieces of jagged glass—
I gasped, my eyes snapping open as I violently inhaled the cold, damp air.
I was sitting on a cold stone floor. The mist was gone.
I blinked rapidly, my vision slowly adjusting to the dimmed light filtering through a massive, broken canopy above. I was no longer in the dead forest. I was sitting in the centre of a ruined temple.
The architecture was breathtaking. Massive, fluted columns of white marble supported a high, vaulted ceiling, though much of the roof had collapsed, allowing thick, muscular vines and heavy soil growth to completely overtake the ancient stonework.
At the far end of the marbled hall stood five magnificent statues. The four flanking figures stood nearly twelve feet tall, their features worn by centuries of neglect. But the central statue was a staggering twenty feet of flawless, polished marble that had miraculously resisted the creeping decay of the ruins. It depicted a beautiful, serene woman with flowing hair, her hands outstretched as if offering water to the world. Mother Rhoyne.
I turned my head. Hazkar was kneeling at the very feet of the colossal statue, his head bowed, quietly praying hands folded.
I stood up walking toward the statue marvelling how time had been unable to smother its majesty. Hazkar heard my steps and stood up facing me. "You are awake." He said with contentment.
"Forgive me I do not know what happened" I answered.
"I was worried when you fell but then I noticed you had merely lost consciousness. I carried you the rest of the way" he said politely. Seeing my face he clarified. "Do not worry we were not far from our destination."
I moved past him to focus on the statue of Mother Rhoyne. A high, smooth diadem was carved seamlessly into her brow, resting above features of pristine, symmetrical perfection. She had a strong, straight nose and a firm, statuesque jawline the marble resembling as if true skin.
Yet her profile was entirely softened by her eyes. They were remarkably large and wide set, sculpted with such profound depth that they seemed to gaze down upon the hall with motherly love. The polished marble was crafted with such mastery that it caught the dim light like still water, giving her skin a luminous, almost pearlescent sheen. Her lips were parted slightly, caught forever in the midst of a gentle, soothing whisper. Looking at her a profound sadness rooted itself within me. I did not know what was happening but I felt sadness envelop.
"Beautiful, is she not?" Hazkar spoke softly from behind me. "Many of the villagers have taken the journey to gaze upon her visage. I thought it best you did as well. I hope to bring your father one day, too."
I slowly turned towards him. "I never knew my mother. She died giving birth to me. But if I were to ever imagine her, I believe she would gaze upon me just as lovingly as this."
"She was your mother, and like all mothers, she would have loved you unconditionally," Hazkar said, his voice tender.
"Did you know your mother, Hazkar?" I asked, genuinely wanting to know more about the man beneath the stony affliction.
The joyfulness in his gaze vanished, replaced instantly by profound sadness. A sadness that I was intimately familiar with.
"I did," he said, smiling wistfully. "Ever since I was born, she was the only parent I ever knew. It was just the two of us in the beginning—a truly blissful period in my life. But as I grew, the responsibilities of life began to take more and more of my time. Eventually, there came a moment where I had to leave our perfect little home and find my own place in the world. My mother taught me much and gave me the tools to thrive, and I did. My youth was plagued by battles, and I made a name for myself through them. Yet, the very distance I had created between myself and my mother to forge my own path ultimately led to ruin." The wistfulness in his voice was now heavily coupled with regret.
He continued despite his swelling emotions. "My home was attacked by invaders that wanted nothing more than to exploit. I fought them tooth and nail, but they were foul. They exploited not our weaknesses, but the very principles we stood upon. By the time I reached my mother, tragedy had already struck. They had destroyed everything, and I found my home in complete shambles. My mother was nowhere to be found." He choked on his own words, his voice thick with anger and regret. "I searched throughout the lands, but found naught a trace of her."
I walked forward, gently placing my hand upon his arm. "I am sorry for making you relive such a memory."
"No, I carry it with me every waking hour. It is not a distant scar, but an aching wound. I sometimes wondered if death was the only way to ever see her again." He scoffed bitterly. "To think this is how I would end up reuniting with her," he murmured, looking down at his hands, heavily crusted with creeping greyscale.
I resonated deeply with his tragic circumstances. "I see my mother in my dreams," I blurted before I could stop myself.
He looked at me strangely, waiting for me to elaborate.
"Ever since I came here, I have seen her in my dreams. I hear her wailing. I hear her singing. It births a deep, unyielding longing within me. My father made sure I never truly felt the loss of a mother in my life, but being here now... I realise how deeply I had locked that desire away. To have never known her love, only her loss. It aches in a way I can never truly describe. I wish she had not been taken from me. I wish she had seen me grow up, seen me play in the gardens, seen me with my books." I sighed, the weight of the confession settling heavily in my chest.
"You will be with her soon. This tragedy of a life is at an end. Despair not for your life, but hope for what comes after. You will soon be in her embrace, rid of all this suffering and wistful dreams of reuniting. That is something real, something to keep you going until it is time," he said, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.