THE LAST DAWN
Chapter 23: The Heart of the World
The golden light was warm.
It wrapped around Rowan like a blanket, like a memory, like a dream he had forgotten he had dreamed. The old woman stood before him, her silver eyes bright, her white hair floating in a wind that did not exist. She wore a dress of gold silk, and her bare feet were pressed against the light.
She was beautiful.
She was terrible.
She was the hunger.
“You’re the hunger,” Rowan said.
The old woman smiled.
It was not a kind smile.
“I am the hunger. I am the end. I am the beginning.”
“You’re a person.”
“I was a person. Once. A long time ago. Before the sacrifice. Before the opening. Before the hunger.”
“What happened?”
She stepped closer.
Her bare feet made no sound.
“I became this.”
Rowan looked at the light.
At the golden warmth.
At the pulsing heart.
“The Council said the hunger is a wound. A wound in the world. A wound in the heart. A wound in the soul.”
“The Council lied.”
“They said you were the first sacrifice.”
“I was. I am. I will be. Time has no meaning here.”
“Then why are you here?”
The old woman stopped in front of him.
Her silver eyes were wet.
“To help you. To warn you. To say goodbye.”
“Goodbye?”
“The hunger is not a wound. The hunger is a gift. A gift from the first sacrifice. A gift from the first mother. A gift from the first love.”
“I don’t understand.”
She took his hands.
Her skin was warm.
“The hunger is not evil. The hunger is not good. The hunger is. It simply is. It has always been. It will always be.”
“Then why does it consume?”
She looked at the light.
At the golden warmth.
At the pulsing heart.
“Because it is alone. Because it is lonely. Because it is hungry for love.”
Rowan’s eyes filled with tears.
“The hunger is lonely?”
“The hunger is the loneliness of the world. The grief of the world. The pain of the world. It consumes because it does not know how else to be.”
“Then how do I stop it?”
The old woman looked at him.
Her silver eyes were bright.
“You don’t stop it. You love it.”