THE LAST DAWN
Chapter 11: The First Sacrifice
The room was cold.
Colder than the hall. Colder than the Citadel. Colder than anything Rowan had ever felt. The walls were bare, the floor was stone, the window looked out onto nothing — not the gray waste, not the black sky, just emptiness, flat and endless and hungry.
Morwen sat on the bed, her silver eyes fixed on him, her dark hair falling over her shoulders like a shroud. She wore a dress of gray wool, simple and clean, and her bare feet were pressed against the cold stone.
She was beautiful.
She was terrible.
She was the beginning.
“You’re the first sacrifice,” Rowan said.
Morwen nodded.
“I am the first. The one who opened the door. The one who let the hunger in. The one who started the end.”
“Why?”
She was silent for a long moment.
“Because I was afraid. Because I was alone. Because I wanted to save my children.”
“Did you?”
Her silver eyes filled with tears.
“No. They died. The hunger consumed them. The same hunger that now waits for you.”
Rowan stepped closer.
The floor was cold beneath his boots.
“The Council says I can stop it. That I can end it. That I can save the world.”
“The Council lies.”
“They said you were the first sacrifice. The first to hear the hunger. The first to feed it.”
“I was. I am. I will be. Time has no meaning here.”
“Then why are you here?”
Morwen stood.
Her bare feet made no sound.
“To warn you.”
“Warn me about what?”
She walked toward him.
Her silver eyes were bright.
“The hunger cannot be stopped. It cannot be ended. It cannot be saved. It can only be delayed.”
“Then I’ll delay it.”
“Delaying is not enough. The hunger must be fed. The world must be consumed. The end must come.”
“That’s what the Council said.”
“The Council is the hunger. The hunger is the Council. They are the same.”
Rowan’s blood went cold.
“The Council is the hunger?”
“The Council is the mask. The hunger is the face. They have been waiting for you. For centuries. For millennia. For the last child of the first sacrifice.”
“Why?”
Morwen stopped in front of him.
Her silver eyes were wet.
“Because you are the only one who can become the vessel. The only one who can hold the hunger. The only one who can become the end.”
She reached out.
Her hand was cold.
“Don’t,” Rowan said.
“I must.”
She touched his face.
The room vanished.