cain looked at the house

Cain looked at the house. He was standing by the door. The wind was cool. The birds were chirping. The sun was nowhere in his vision. But it was out there, had been as of forty five minutes ago. The sky was a light blue, with the hints of the red sun and some white for clouds. The house looked spectacular. It stood out from the rest on this street. But he had expected that of her. He had always expected that of her. He sat down cross legged across the street from the house and looked through the two windows on the second floor. Both were shuttered by curtains. He smiled. He wondered what, no, he knew, he could very well guess. Two children. Maybe three. The dogs inside began to bark. Sensing a stranger outside. At this hour. It was unusual. One deep throaty bark. Another was high and whiny. Interspersed sparsely in between was a growl. So three in total. Unless there were a few silent ones there. The trees that lined the wall outside were small but colorful. Red, yellow, purple. Green leaves. The grass wasn’t immaculate but the imperfection gave it beauty and power. Cain looked at the empty sky and sighed. He had imagined she would be happy, had hoped for, had wished it. He hoped she was. After all, he couldn’t live with them for their lives. It was too painful watching them die. While he wouldn’t. And this one had been special. As much as he had loved her, he had been terrified of her power. So he had ended it long before he had ended any of the others. And now he was back. Somehow staring. It was amazing to him. How the only constant through his millennia of existence were the emotions. And how this one remained one of the most powerful. He remembered all the ones he had been in love with. Every single one. From start to finish. He remembered their smiles, their eyes. Their voices were becoming hazy. But he remembered them still. Each and every one of them. Another loud sigh. The dogs had settled into silence. The sky was empty and clean and clear. But he knew what was on the horizon. The clouds were forming. The rajah was solidifying. They had had many civilizations predict the end of times. But most of them we’re wrong. Most of them had been wrong. This time though, his gut told him, it was coming. The signs were all there. Irrefutable. He wondered what his role in all of it was. He wasn’t arrogant enough, maybe he was, to think that he was that important. But he was. There were few of the old order left. And those that remained, he only had suspicions about. But suspicions he did have. Though like they could never find him, he had never been able to find them. He got up, a groan as his muscles ached. He could hear a growl coming from the deep throated one. The wind was nice. He walked away. To the ends of the earth. Where his internal compass led. Where he would find what he needed to help or end it.