As Earth grows to be something humans have never seen before, humans themselves are growing more obsolete. An alien race called the Romorei have taken over and killed most humans; those that didn't die became slaves or turned to a life of hiding. Le...
As Elmigh woke all he could tell was that he was laying on a hard flat surface and that it was dark wherever he was. With a groan, he opened his eyes and was greeted with the sight of a wood wall and ceiling illuminated by moonlight. Sitting up slowly Elmigh was greeted with the slight pain of a laser burn on his side, and a lightweight around his waist.
Ignoring the pain that would not last much longer, he turned his attention to the object on his waist. A delicate fair-skinned arm was draped over him. Slightly confused as to why there was an arm around him he looked on and found the person the arm belonged to.
Elmigh's breath caught in his chest as his eyes fell on her soft face. Long lush black hair, fair skin, and black lashes framed her face in the dimly moon-lit room. Vaguely, Elmigh recalled seeing this face before and the hazel eyes that bore into his soul for some kind of help and wonder. Her eyes were so bright and her helpless look touched him. But there was more to her gaze, something inside him tugged at the sight of her in pain.
Reaching down he softly grazed the dark feather on his wrist. Only now did he realize that it was tingling. Snapping his gaze back to her face he looked in the one place he somehow knew the same symbol would be. Slowly he moved her silky hair that had escaped from her braid off the back of her neck, where he was greeted with the sight of an all too familiar feather gently palace there. Frozen in place for what seemed like ages, he broke his gaze from her to look back at his own mark. Reaching out the very hand that had the same symbol he lightly grazed the feather on her neck and was greeted with warmth like no other.
For Elmigh though, she could not have come at any worse of a time. The Romorei were getting close to leaving the planet to expand more and he had yet to come up with a plan to stop them. They may not believe that a female in any species was useful, but even they could not argue that females were what would continue the bloodline.
In their war to destroy the Roma, not only did they kill off the Roma females but their own as well. And Earth was just one planet that the Romorei had overrun in the look to not only continue the Romorei race but also to stop the continuation of the Roma. That is exactly why Elmigh was there, to stop the advances of the Romorei.
Removing his hand from her neck and long hair Elmigh shifted her arm off his waist and moved to stand. After he was on his feet he walked out an open doorway not far from him. Looking out the door he was greeted with an overview of what was left of the very town that he met her, lit by the light of the moon. A slight breeze brushed past him, carrying the smell of a fire burning somewhere in the distance.
With one last glance at her, Elmigh rolled his shoulders making his wings appear and begrudgingly spread them, and took off into the quite lonely night.
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Zena woke to the warmth of sun rays shining through a window and the sound of birds singing in the distance. With a yawn, she stretched out and opened her eyes. The sun was just coming over the horizon and the morning was crisp, cool, and quiet. In a way too quiet.
Looking about it dawned on her what was wrong. He was gone. Spinning away from the window, Zena looked around for any sign of him. He was not in the building and even though she doubted he was anywhere near she went outside to see what she could find.
No sign of him, at least that is what she thought. A breeze blew by and she caught movement in the corner of her eye. A feather. Not something she was unknown of, but there was something distinct about this feather. It was large—larger than any feather from a bird—and solid black, but the breeze that caused it to shift also allowed the blue shimmer on the feather to come into view.
Not taking more than a second to find the feather in her vision was it in her hand. There was no doubt in her mind who it belonged to, and further proved he was not just a dream.
Feather in hand Zenas face turned to the morning sky then to the town that she had been in only hours ago. She had to go back, mainly to get whatever supplies she could, but to see if she could confirm how many were lost. Looking back to the feather clutched in her hand she tucked it into her hair, the blue shimmer facing her head. After securing the feather there she started the descent down to the town.
After an hour or so Zena began to get within a few miles of the town and a dramatic change started to happen to her surroundings. The closer she got to the town she go the more destruction to the forest she could see. What started as just a few trees with scorch marks on them from the Romorei's laser guns, turned into whole trees being snapped in half and holes being blown through them.
'If the Romorei had caused this much damage to the surrounding forest, just how much damage did they do to the town? Would there be anything left?' Zena wondered as she gazed at the trees as she entered the town, or at least what was left of it.
No buildings stood at all anymore and she could barely make out the building she had been in when gathering supplies. The world around her seemed to crumble around her as she made her way to the square where her group had gathered before everything happened.
Blood and bodies were scattered everywhere amongst the rubble of the buildings, both human and Romorei. Searching the rubble Zena found a large carry bag, most of the contents were damaged and could not be used but some things survived. The day went on and she found a few more bags, combining them and their contents.
At the building John had pulled her into when the Romorei attacked, she hesitated to look through it. She had no idea if John had managed to get out or not. After a long while of hesitation, she ventured through the rubble. Only to find her bag and nothing less. With a small breath of relief, she started to move on, but a bit of blue caught her eye. John's baseball hat, under a bit of ruble.
Walking over she slowly picked it up, before dropping it just as quickly to move more ruble to see if she could at least find his body. No tace but the hat was to be found. Releasing a breath she didn't know she was holding, 'Maybe he made it, and will meet me back at home.'
Gathering the hat she had thrown, Zena began on her way home, with a plan to stay out of sight as much as possible. And she was dead set on getting to the lake before nightfall.
