The Moors are dead...the humans perfected climate control, leaving me all alone with death.
"Don't let them convince you that we are different."
*****************************************
I stared at his scars...which covered his body, making me wond...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Full of rage I am, as I watch the cowards retreat to their vessels beyond the cave. To carved out homes with stones of tunnels, to dim light and dead nature. Scared. Catering to a race we were destined to control...and not the other way around. I venture away, placing my hand on the stone of a wall; which reveals carved out stairs hidden within it. A secret place away from the others that I've built. I fly up past pebbles, through gloomy tunnel, up to a high tower camouflaged within a dead tree.
The air above hits my face, cool and carrying a smell similar too something burning. Yet, at least the air was free up here...down below it smelt of damp concrete and moss. It wasn't always this bad. At one point I enjoyed our underground world. I even settled with the fact of keeping to ourselves. When the humans took iron from the ground and created bullets...myself and Conall were preaching the same tune. Stay below to stay alive. That was before the rumbling sound shook the earth...before chemicals attacked the lands....before joy turn to fear and weakness.
From what I had gathered...from here atop this tower, on that very day, was that the humans wanted to cleanse this land. To strip it of demons...and in a few years after every food source was gone, and every little and big creature alike, were forced into genocide. Once I reported this act to Conall, he and the others voted against the declaration of war...Stay below to stay alive. Give up on your rage....he told me....
FLASHBACK:
"But rage is all I have left." I take off from the center of clusters of underground homes, soaring above the bright and green caves. My wings flapping. Instantly I feel a whirlpool of wind fighting against my body, forcing the air around me to become heavy with gravity. I struggle to look up, pressing against the change in air pressure, until I found that my brothers and sisters were creating awave vortex. Their wings in union as they flapped medown.
I look upon the gray lands, then far past to the river which kept us from the humans. Eyeing a castle lit with so many candles, inside and outside the windows. To carriages and horses. Hearing music and exclaims of delight. My stomach sickens and turns, my mind becomes boiled and heated. I will end them...even if I have to become a martyr. I feel my wings extend far and wide...my heart pump as strong as drums before taking off with a flight so powerful, that the memory of being restrained a fortnight ago, is vanquished. The dark fae will understand that I was right to try to leave and fight...even if I have to shower the skies with blood. So be it.
My wings beat the air, my horns feel the whip of the wind...so does the scars on my body. My eyes glint with a darkness I could feel radiating in me. I travel a mile within a few seconds...pushing my body to the limit. My muscles trickle with heat. I position my wings behind me in a straight line, this causes my surroundings to blur...and my body to speed as fast as an iron bullet. I travel five more miles. Ready to avenge my people...ready to kill.
