[Chayden]

Qerelyn Sixx

The world was dying.
Dismally, she thought of her husband, dead so many years before. Why was it that death had to be their altar?
Where were all of the colors, now? All she could see was snow. Snow, sand, and a vast, grey ocean. All uncaring. All distant. Who was with her? No one, no one, nothing but a brief bubble of energy beside her.
Her husband? She could only hope.

[Chayden]

Qerelyn Sixx

Everything was melting. Dissolving. Falling away from her.
When had she come to this beach, if that was what it was? Why had she left the safety of her own home to lay down in the chromatic sand? The world was ending... But she felt that it would not bring an end to her pain.

[Chayden]

Qerelyn Sixx

Suddenly, her throat was dry. It was closing, but no panic came with it. Was that because the world, too, was coming to a close?
She expected to see sunset colors creep across the horizon, but they did not. Everything remained strangely silent. The silence was deafening, as silence is apt to be.
She was inclined to cry, but could not.

[Chayden]

Qerelyn Sixx

It all felt hallucinogenic. The world did. Reality did.
She was an addict, but nothing could possibly push her this far. No, it truly was the final curtain call.
It seemed that she would be the only one to see the final scene.

[Chayden]

Qerelyn Sixx

Were those her cells, skittering around so? The very fiber of her being, pulled apart at the seams? It was all so painless... She felt as if she was seeing things through backward-facing binoculars. It was surreal.
The water crashed against the shore. The sand fell away with every wave. It simply left, destroyed peacefully.
It was no longer, easily.

[Chayden]

Qerelyn Sixx

The bubble of energy had dissipated. She lay alone, balanced on the very last piece of earth. One last wave moved in through the blackness to caress her face. It fell over her body, cleansing her, releasing her.
It was not peace, nor was it torment. It was a coldness, and nothing more.
She was washed away, and the world folded in upon itself. Consuming itself.
Ending.
Miraculously, she was allowed a single thought before it all was over.
This... is the swell season.