Lightrunner

(3) Alone in the Dark

When the Evernight fell, ten years ago, I don't know where I was or what I was doing. I don't remember much of anything before the chaos, but I remember that at first there was no panic.

I'm sure my child-mind permanently blocked out the stain of pain and fear from my memories to protect myself, but I do remember longing for the arms of someone familiar. Though now I can't recollect his face, my heart warms then shatters when I think of him. Sometimes I wonder why I care, since he left me behind in this forsaken city, but there's a sliver of me that hopes he misses me, that I wasn't forgotten, that it was all just an accident.

When the ancient elven Moon King descended from above and the elves returned to their home in the Skyscape, and I was left behind, there was shock and disbelief plastered on every netscreen, but still faith in the dream that life would return to normal. Even I was hopeful that the elves glowing skyships reached safe haven as I jumped between apartments and community houses growing up. I refused to believe I was the last elf in existence. The reality of that kind of loneliness would've crippled me a long time ago.

When cities started flickering out one by one is when it really went to shit. Less Skyships came in and rarely any attempted to leave, creatures rumored to be snatching up anyone who dared face the dark.

Running from this city and the House of Horns isn't an option—I'm stuck. If it was a possible path, I wouldn't even be here.

I'd be across the sea, in the lands where the Fall of Night didn't reach, where the sun shines endlessly, and the warmth makes the land blossom with flowers in hues that technology cannot truly recreate on its screens.

Or I'd be in Skyscape surrounded by others like me, ancient and newborn alike. I'd be with my brothers and sisters of bone and blood and magic, by my family if I was lucky enough to find them, and the voice that so often kisses my memories with words of hope.

I'd be away from the lies of the tech-human Court who control the city, away from the power-hungry criminals who force the lost and the weak to do their bidding, and away from the cold of a sunless sky and the bitter reality of knowing I'm stuck here like a rodent in a cage.

And just like every other time I think about the possible bliss that lies waiting on the other side of the darkness, I remember why it's so hard to leave and the protection the Aura provides and what had happened to me when I'd tried to escape before.

I hadn't believed the horror stories I'd heard of nightstalkers ripping their victims apart limb by limb. Because of my foolishness, I'd learned the hard way when I tried to flee over a year ago—the night I witnessed the murder. The night the House of Horns claimed me.

That night, I'd bolted home to my tiny apartment on the top floor of the building, unable to think clearly enough to formulate some kind of plan. All I knew was that I was no criminal and definitely not the kind of elf they imagined me to be. Once they found out how useless I really was, they'd toss me out like a dirty rag. In my mind, I had to at least attempt to make an escape while my hands were still clean, before they ruined me. I packed what little food and clothing I had and was out the door in just a few minutes. There was no time to waste, since there was a possibility Jojin had me tailed by one of his cronies, but when I stood on City's Edge with the abyss of darkness in front of me, I hesitated.