[ IP ] End of an empire

`` You ever seen anything like it?'' 
 
 Faith's words seemed almost lost against the vast firestorm, the roaring flames and frenzied winds whipping themselves into a fury. The Library, one of the last remaining bastions of knowledge and arcane lore in this new Dark Age had gone up in flames, the red and oranges blazes charring the stonework black and shattering the stained glass windows. No one paid the tragic loss any heed; the defenders either slain or busy fleeing, the triumphant usurpers lost in their sack. Horses dripping skin and molten fire galloped around the stable yard, their manes whisping plumes black smoke. 
 
 High up in one of the lesser keeps, the chaos unfolding below looked more like a scene from a play or novel, or else one of those fabled tales from myth and song. 
 
 `` Once,'' a firm baritone voice answered. `` On the night of the Arrival.'' 
 
 Hilary Flint sat on the edge of Faith's rumpled bed, already armed and armored in full kit. His green cloak was pinned at his throat by a broach, a rolled blanket slung over a shoulder and across his torso. His rifle lay perched next to him, his saber in his hands and receiving a final touch up with a whetstone. The rasp of the stone against the tired steel was little more than a whisper of the inferno outside. 
 
 `` Detroit was a major hub for passenger jets flying in and out of Asia,'' Flint said. `` One flight, maybe heading towards Japan or Shanghai, went down a few miles east of campus. The thing was loaded with avgas when it crashed right down on top of a neighborhood. Of course the passengers and crew died instantly, but the folks on the ground... I saw the results myself two days later when I was biking back home as fast as I could ride. The medical personnel just flat up left them, all stacked up like cord wood. I slipped into one of those triage centers, hoping to find some medicine left in their haste or at least some bandages and the like. I passed by their corpses, the revoltingly delicious stench of roast pork Some of them were still alive, burnt black and still conscious somehow. I shat my pants when one of them grabbed hold of my leg, screaming as his whole arm came off when I jumped back. 
 
 `` I ran. Oh, how I ran, and I did n't stop until I reached Brighton and fell down from exhaustion. And you can bet that that memory's lingered for damn sure.''
