-The CollectorsMature

In the end of days, eight guardians awaken to fight the final battle between good and evil.

 

Prophecy had foretold the end of time but none had heeded its warning. Now they scrambled, each thinking only of themselves as fire fell from the sky. Bluebird watched the chaos whirl around the frantic beings as they rioted and fought one another. Such promise wasted, she thought absently as mother and child were torn apart.

Though this place was loved by Bluebird and the Others, none wished to stop the choices man had made.

“You look sad.” Monday patted Bluebird on the shoulder.

“Such an end.” Bluebird replied with a sigh. To the beings tussling below the tower, Bluebird would have looked like the descendant of a goddess. She let her waist length hair free in the breeze.

The air was cool against her human form. Milky skin paired with honey eyes gazed down towards the mayhem.

“What do you think they are thinking now?” Bluebird whispered. She wished she held the ability to read their thoughts as some of the Others did.

“She is thinking of her daughter, Megan.” Monday pointed to a frazzled aged woman standing as a statue in the mob. “She is praying.”

Prayer. Bluebird smiled. The only thing good about this race had been their eagerness to pray.

“Do they know whom they are praying to?” A baritone voice spoke in sweet melody from behind them.

“They pray to their God.” Monday turned, holding a rigid pose.

“Such futility.”

Bluebird looked on as Monday argued religion with Bellodine. Bell was a solid man in his earthly body, giving the impression of a war general.

“How many are praying?” Bluebird asked absently.

Monday turned to the window, becoming silent for a moment. He checked his time piece and sighed heavily.

“The numbers always dwindle towards the end. These beings have such finicky faith.”

“We are not here to judge on faith and prayer alone.” Bell solemnly added. He was correct, if only mildly cynical of their mission.

“When will the three arrive?” Monday turned to Bluebird then, his sapphire eyes remained emotionless.

She hesitated before she spoke. “Two days before all align beneath the arch.”

She may not have been given the gift of hearing unspoken words, but Bluebird was the only one who could foresee.

When she had awakened in her human form, Bluebird had seen the end first. Nightmarish dreams of fire and pain, unstoppable ends to the means at hand.

She had met Monday in a New Jersey hospital psych ward. It was there that her place was explained to her in detail. At first she had been frightened, but not for herself.

She was one of the last Collectors to awaken in the end of days. Her journey was far more important than first realized.

Bluebird made her way down the winding staircase, preparing to converge with the mass mob below. The sound assaulted her ears as she stepped onto the street. Screams echoed against the walls of the city, followed by eruptions of small explosions.

No one seemed to notice her casual stride as she passed the broken show windows. The looters did not interest her as she headed west towards the sunset. None turned to watch the stunning woman march lazily through the streets. Bluebird was in no rush to arrive at her destination.

The library towered over the square as a guardian, watching over those within it. Silence eased away to only the sound of pigeons cooing. Her steps did not echo as loudly as the ruckus a few streets behind her. Bluebird was thankful there were still quiet placed to be found.

Inside the magnificent building, something had grown from the rubble and captivated her. Each day she made her way here to observe the gathering of minds so unlike the chaos she passed each day.

“Afternoon, Sister B.” A young girl not yet sixteen offered a wide grin.

“Good afternoon, Alice.” The girl smiled again before turning to skip to her seat in the large congregation of chairs. An unusual set up, Bluebird mused.

She had reveled in the ideas and philosophies of these people as they bravely faced their fate. They pulled strength from books written long before their time and applied it feverishly.

“It gives us hope when our world offers none.” Alive had said. Such a young girl forced to become a woman saddened her, but she did not fully understand why.

She had become attached to the beings dwelling within the walls of the library. The old man named Peter, with kind eyes and an ever open heart, made his way slowly to the podium. The idle chatter mummed quickly as all observed the look on Peter's face.

“This is a sad day for us, friends.” His voice wavered. “Last night one of our camps was raided for supplied by Eris.” A murmur rolled through the assembly.

“It is with my deepest regret that I must inform you of the loss of our second post. Tonight we mourn our brothers and sisters lost in this dark time.”

A sob burst form somewhere in the second row. Bluebird watched as the men and women openly comforted one another.

“Who has done this? Who is at fault?” The young woman Bluebird had come to know as Jane stepped boldly forward. More outrage uproared in the space, filling the air with anger, grief and bitterness.

“Friends, please.” Peter held a hand unsteadily upward. The ruckus slowly dulled enough for him to speak.

“We are not barbarians. We are not unintelligent beings. Though we face danger in these trying times, we must remember who we are.”

“You would have us be cowards, then?” Jane seethed. “To ignore our fallen friends and do nothing while Eris continues to pick us off?”

Peter's gaze leveled. “You have such spirit, Sister Jane.”

“Why are we sitting by while this keeps happening?” Jane's eyes glossed from tears she refused to shed.

“That is an excellent question. And so we begin to seek our answers this evening.” Peter bowed his head to pray aloud.

Bluebird bowed her head as well, her eyes never leaving Jane's face. This was why she chose to come, to watch the struggle in real time. Voices sun in perfect unison against the hopeless abyss that nipped the edge of their subconscious.

It was the explanations given that intrigued her so. Most seemed content leaving unanswered questions to their God. Still some, like Sister Jane, searched for more earthly answers.

Bluebird looked on as the group collectively sought peaceful answers to the terror they faced. It was things such as these which forced Bluebird to wonder why their world had to end.

The End

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