Forgotten God.

The statue was beautiful. Carved out of smooth white marble and standing well over ten feet tall, blank eyes staring fiercely at the dirty alleys with his face twisted into an eternal snarl.

It was the only lovely thing in this miserable city. And the only thing the thieves and pickpockets left alone.

It was a man  astride a wolf even larger than he was, their faces curled in the same expression of pride and aggression. A warrior, by the weapons carved against his back and the smooth flickers of fire at the wolf’s paws.

The statue was tucked away in a small square, alleys and the backs of building surrounding it. Most avoided it, insisting that the warrior’s eyes followed them even after they were out of sight.

Who this statue honored or even when it had been erected was still a mystery. It had to be decades old and the marble was as bright as if it had been freshly carved the day before, not a chip or detail missing.

I reached and traced the wolf’s snarling maw, standing on the tips of my toes to touch the cool stone.

There was one legend. One. A nearly lost story about forgotten Gods and brutal wars that shook the world.

The wolf-rider Gallor, astride a black-furred Frostwolf. It mentioned the God in passing, the legend focused on the more powerful deities.

If the city Guard knew that this statue might be in honor of a God that doesn’t belong to their religion, they would tear it down, stomping the fine craftsmanship to dust beneath their boots.

I rather like wolves. Perhaps this Gallor was the patronage of them.

I smiled and patted the snout of the wolf. The statue wasn’t harming anyone, God or no, and it has stood here for years without being bothered. It would be a crime to destroy something like this for the sake of an old legend.

 

***

They crushed it.

White crumbles of marble and dust settled in the cracks of the building surrounding the square, black tar splashed over the remaining chunks still attached to the pedestal.

It was a wonder it stood so long. Humans can never let something be.

I crouched, scooping a lump from the dirt.

Dust coated my fingertips as I turned the wedge of marble over in my hands. It was part of the man’s face, the glaring eye still fierce and proud.

I clenched the marble in my palm, a well of anger and sadness rising in my stomach. Tears stung my eyes.

There was nothing I could do. Someone had decided to destroy something sacred and beautiful and there was no going back. Soon this little corner will be just like the rest of the city, too dangerous to even walk through.

So I stood and slipped the marble in my pocket.

The only thing I can ever do is remember. So I will.

***

The entire city was in flames.

Black smoke rose in a thick cloud, swirling waves of red fire leaping from rooftop to rooftop. It looked as if Hell itself had split open.

Someone had poured cooking oil all along the main street, making the fire catch and spread quickly. Most of the buildings were built out of dry wood, so they went up in flame instantly. By the time I had realized what was going on, it was too late.

Now it was just a race of which will reach the outskirts of the city first; me or the hellfire roaring at my heels.

The smoke settled in my lungs, my throat feeling torn and raw from coughing. I flew through the streets like a madwoman, tongues of flame slowly roasting my skin.

The building closest to me collapsed, sending sparks and embers flurrying through the air. Flaming debris hit my chest, sending me sprawling into the dirt.

I pushed the burning wood off my chest, a hiss whistling through my teeth as my hands met the overwhelming heat.

The skirt of my dress caught fire. I tore away the fabric with a strangled screech and stomped on it until only wisps of smoke remained.

I lost precious time. The fire had spread farther than I could outrun now. If the heat doesn’t kill me, the smoke will.

I pushed myself to my feet, my breath rasping in my lungs. My eyes watered and tears spilled, the black fog of smoke the only thing I could see.

I am going to die like this. Cornered and alone.

Without realizing it, my hand slipped into my pocket. Cool marble soothed the burnt skin of my fingertips. I still keep the sliver of the old statue in my pocket, even though it had been destroyed years ago. I kept my promise of remembering, though the details were falling away slowly.

I fell to my knees. Maybe this raging inferno was revenge.

This city deserves to burn, perhaps something better will be built over the ashes.

The fire grew closer and closer, I didn’t move, staring blankly at the red and gold in the deadly flames.

It was rather beautiful, even if I couldn’t breathe anymore.

My limbs gave out and I curled up on the ground. The stars above were just visible through the clouds of smoke.

Black crept over my vision. The burning in my lungs built and built until…

***

The statue was beautiful.

The girl was curled up in the fetal position, one hand pressed to the earth, another slipped in the pocket of her dress. She was carved out of white marble, the purest I had ever seen.

Strange writing was scrawled on the pedestal beneath her, an old and forgotten language that is said to have belonged to an ancient race of wolf-riders that lived in the mountains above.

Some say that when the night sky is lit up with the full moon, and the howls of wolves echo from the mountains, you could see a translucent whisper of a massive man and wolf, heads bowed before her in silent vigil.

The city before had burnt down centuries ago. But my ancestors built a new one over the broken bones of the old. They had found the small statue in the ruins and decided to make her the center of our city, letting wildflowers grow around her in honor of the people that had died in the fire.

I smiled and turned away.

She will be remembered.