Flumes Vol. 5: Issue 1, Summer 2020 | Page 103

"You Cannot Stir Things Apart"

Ki Koenig


By Zeynep Canbolat

After all this time, it was finally over. As the dust settled, turning the fields gray across the land, Yera climbed to her feet and smiled. The remains of the ruthless dictator of Eraicore crumbled at Yera's feet, his face frozen in an expression of shock as he stared forever into her eyes. All over the world, his men were meeting a similar fate, disappearing, turning into a dust so fine it could be carried away on the wind. The war was finally over. It had always been a huge risk, invoking the power of the gods in this way. Using their powers to kill was against everything Yera stood for, but it was a necessary evil. The dictator had been twisting the gods' powers for his own gain, using them to keep the country captive, bending the elements to his will and the people with them. That's why Yera thought the gods might allow her to use their powers. To undo the damage done by the dictator. And it worked. After two hundred years of pain, of poverty, it was finally over. The war had finally been won the dictator's reign had finally come to an end.