The Day Reading Died

The War Begins

I killed my teacher.

The universe wasn't supposed to have the light come in. That was nothing more than a horrible experiment only done to show us how awful we were. Yet, there were many who believed they could amplify the light and make us better - the readers who kept the light in.

They made the world worse.

All the light did was show us our true nature and no matter how many allegories of a cave that were written, the lessons were never learned. As long as someone was willing to read and believe, the light stayed.

I had to kill my teacher. He knew the truth and tried to recruit us all to the cause. Once the darkness came back and let us know the truth about our origins, it was time to let it back in and take its rightful place.

As I stand on the rooftop of the place I called a school, looking out into the horizon of endless night, I can see clearly. I have been gifted the ability to see through it all. It would be one of many gifts to come my way.

The people on are gathering towards me. I am their new queen as they look up to see my aura glowing softly against the night sky.

There are some who will continue to fight. They will be hunted and disposed of properly.

A small group marches through the crowd, holding candles in some kind of vigil. There's one in front, chanting some ancient saying as if it would be an intimidating gesture. Watching him repeat it and get the others behind him to do so only makes him look silly.

He stops at the foot of the building and looks up my way.

"We possess the sword of truth!" he proclaims.

I grin at his statement.

"The truth will cut through this darkness and bring the light. Be bold and hold strong!" he shouts towards the crowd.

His followers all nod their heads in agreement while the rest of the crowd looks on with fascination. None of them are convinced by his behaviours. 

"Do not follow this false prophet," he says while pointing up at me.

My grin turns into a smile that stretches from ear to ear.

"She will only lead you to more pain and suffering! We can give you peace!"

The arrogance of some people. I hold up my left hand and snap my thumb against my first two fingers. The smell of sulfur fills the air as two shadows appear at my side. Without saying a word, I point towards the person below and ball my hand into a fist.

The message is delivered and the shadows shoot down the building. 

The two of them envelop the small gathering, covering their candles and blocking out the suffering. Screams rise up to my ears, affirming my position as the authority of this area.

They are the first to go. 

The war has begun.