The Aftermath

ALEXANDER

Jessica and I spent the entire day at the mouth of the tunnel, our eyes glued to the fiery spectacle that was once our ancestral home. The mansion had been standing for more than two thousand years, ever since Vesuvius had wiped out our previous dwelling. The first time, it took a volcano; this time, it was all me.

A cold, heavy stone of realization sat in my chest, refusing to budge despite the surrounding heat. This was my doing.

I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the wreckage, my mind replaying every choice that had led us to this point: my anger, my pride.

The fire hadn’t just razed the house—it had swallowed up generations of history. The centuries-old tapestries, the invaluable paintings, the ancient stones worn smooth by our forefathers’ footsteps—all gone.

I had obliterated history, the legacy of a family that once held a godlike status among men. Now, we were nothing more than scattered fragments, with only ashes to remind us of our loss.

How far we had fallen. How far ~I~ had fallen.

The thought gnawed at me as I sat in the shadow of the tunnel, my eyes burning—not from the smoke, but from the crushing weight of regret.

Jessica’s quiet weeping filled the silence between us, but I had nothing to give her. No solace. No words. Just the harsh, burning truth: I had led us to this.

Our injuries healed by the early morning hours. Eventually, the flames subsided, leaving behind a landscape of ashes, charred marble, and a smoke-filled sky.

Heat radiated from the ruins. The crackling of the remaining flames echoed in our minds.

Mother had been mostly silent throughout the day, her gaze fixed unsettlingly on the flames.

While Jessica and I watched the ruins with heavy hearts, she seemed… distant, as if the destruction was happening to someone else, somewhere else.

As the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, the night was eerily silent, save for the crackling of dying embers.

The once-majestic walls of our home were now a pile of smoldering ruins, blackened and skeletal under the moonlight.

I finally emerged from the tunnel. My boots crunched over the scorched earth, each step sinking into the ash that was once our home.

Jessica followed, her movements frantic as she sifted through the remains, desperately searching for something—anything—worth salvaging.

I couldn’t bring myself to join her. I silently surveyed the ruins. The enormity of the destruction was suffocating, pressing down on me like the lingering smoke.

Mother wandered through the ruins with an almost childlike curiosity, her hands lightly touching the ash-covered remnants of our lives.

She giggled softly at something unseen, her fingers playing with the charred remains of a silver candelabra.

“Do you see it, Alex?” she asked suddenly, turning to me with a wide, unsettling smile.

I tensed. “See what, Mother?”

“The beauty.” She gestured to the wreckage around us, her red dress swaying as she turned in a slow circle. “It’s all gone. Everything we built was reduced to ashes. Isn’t it…poetic?”

Jessica froze, her fingers tightening around a scorched mirror she had found.

“There’s nothing poetic about this,” I said, my voice icy.

Mother laughed, a high, brittle sound that echoed off the broken stone. “Oh, my son. You always were so serious after you came back. But don’t you see? This is freedom. We’ve been shackled to this house, to these walls, for centuries. And now, we’re free. You’ve always wanted to be free from us, haven’t you?”

Her words made my skin crawl. Jessica shrank back, her small frame pressing into my side.

“Mother, stop,” I said firmly.

But she didn’t. She started to laugh, her fingers trailing over a pile of scorched stones.

“Your grandfather thought he could control everything. But even he couldn’t stop the revolution, could he? He’s gone now, just like the rest of them.”

She turned to look at me, her smile twisting into something cruel. “You’re just like him, you know. Always trying to hold things together. But look where it got him.”

Her words hit a raw nerve, but I refused to let her see it. Instead, I stepped between her and Jessica, shielding my sister from her madness.

“Enough,” I said quietly.

Mother tilted her head, studying me for a long moment. Then, without another word, she turned and walked away, her humming resuming as if nothing had happened.

Jessica’s breath wavered, her fingers digging into my arm. “Alex…what’s wrong with her?”

“She’s in mourning,” I replied, though the words felt empty.

Jessica’s gaze met mine, her red eyes brimming with terror. “She’s frightening me.”

I couldn’t disagree with her.

“What do you think started it?” Jessica whispered, brushing away the ash and peering at her reflection in the mirror she held. “Could the servants have done it? Where are they? I can’t hear them.”

“They’re gone,” I said, my voice flat.

Their deaths had resonated with me all day. They were trapped. They perished in the fire. The faint smell of their remains lingered. I wasn’t going to unearth them. I would let them rest. They deserved that much.

Jessica shot me a nod of understanding.

“Alex!” Mother’s voice rang out, sounding oddly choked.

Without hesitation, Jessica and I rushed toward her.

She was hunched over on the ground, her body rigid. She’d knocked over a chunk of the marble ceiling.

A gaping hole lay beneath the slab, dark and jagged, like a gash in the earth. The scent of Caroline’s blood was immediate, sharp, and unmistakable.

I knelt down, my fingers tracing the trail of prints disappearing into the ashes.

“Caroline is missing,” Mother’s voice was suddenly clear, her eyes wide with panic. The disappearance of her daughter had jolted her back to reality.

The truth hit me like a punch to the gut, sucking the breath from my lungs. I had let her down. I had let ~all~ of them down.

My father was gone. Our home was in ruins. The servants were reduced to ash. And now Caroline was alone, injured and scared, in a city that would hunt her down the moment they picked up her scent.

Jessica’s small, trembling voice yanked me out of my downward spiral.

“Alex?”

I turned to face her. She was holding the mirror close to her chest, her red eyes wide and shimmering with unshed tears.

“I’ll find her,” I declared, my voice firm with resolve. “I’ll bring her back. I promise.”