The Abandoned

It started during the night, while most slept. The world lit up like a star, light beaming through windows and shining over forests. The hush of the night gave way to the mutterings and shuffling of creatures waking in confusion. The humankind woke with anger, their rest disturbed, and gathered outside to see why they could see clear as day while it was yet to break dawn. Hands rested over foreheads, sunglasses slipped onto noses, as all looked to the sky. The light was blinding, and becoming brighter as whatever it was came closer. There was no heat, there was no smell, and as the people turned to science for an answer, none was given. What is happening? they asked, why now?

When it struck, the world shook from the force. The mountains trembled and fell, the ocean spilled into cities, and the sky began to fall, leaving only darkness in its wake. The people feared the worst, that their gods had forsaken them and the end was nigh. But as the sky fell, the air thinned and life dwindled, a new people came from the forests, crept from beneath the trees, coming forward with a solution. Follow us, they crooned, we know what to do. These people could do tremendous things, they could speak with the birds, call fire from the earth and coax water from the air.

The people of magic promised the other creatures, both human and not, of safety amongst their camps. The darkness that shrouded the world could not touch the magic flames, and so the people felt peace. A small peace, perhaps, but peace nonetheless. With air thin as paper and lands flooded and destroyed, the creatures, large and small, feared that even this small peace could not save them, and as the panic began to spread, those of magic began to speak of a saviour, a being of higher power. A being of a power beyond theirs, the claimed, a being that will come to help us. We need only ask, they said. And ask they did. The people would try summoning, offering up promises and tokens, gifts and sacrifices. They asked the wind and the trees to call for this being, to whisper their pleas and beg for help.

Soon the dark world filled with hope that it would come, it would call forth light and send the water back to the ocean and give strength back to the mountains. They hoped their calls and whispers would be answered. They sang around their fires, and danced and played, believing that they would be saved, recalling their books of fairytales and poetry, reciting words and prayers. But the months turned to years, and the being had yet to come. The darkness remained, wrapping itself around all it could see, and the water still lapped at buildings. The mountains refused to stand from their cower.

As the years went on, the hope began to fade, the music died and the dancing stopped. No one spoke in rhyme, no one sang in rhythm, and princesses escaped from evil dragons no more. The whispers of the wind turned to wails that echoed through fallen cities, the animals shed tears of anguish. No word, no sign that the being was coming. As the seeds of doubt that were planted began to sprout, the people of magic called together a meeting of all creatures, wanting to do away with fear and despondency. The creatures gathered in the shell of a great building, their fires showing the art and stories that have long stayed untold. The carvings and paintings saw light for the first time since the falling, the creatures, both young and old, staring on in wonder, having almost forgotten what had once surrounded them.

Their hope began to reignite, and a fluttering sound picked at their ears. In the centre of this great hall, a small paper had landed, fallen from nowhere, addressed to them all as inhabitants of this earth. The light of the fire seemed brighter, now that their sign had come, words that showed them someone had been listening all that time. Someone had heard the whispers of the trees, and the prayers and promises, someone had received their gifts and tokens. Chattering and cheer broke out, and never before had the darkness seemed so bright. But as the letter was read, the shadows crept closer, the fires flickered, and even the painted faces seemed to fall.

The letter read of failings amongst the people, of death and destruction, of cruelty amongst all creatures. It told stories of pain and anguish, of fury and harm. The letter claimed that the creatures had been judged for centuries, as had the last creatures, and just like them, this new life had also failed. This higher being was not coming to save them, as they were not worthy of saving. The last lines of the letter, read aloud, echoed off walls and left a paralyzing fear in the creatures hearts.

NO HELP IS COMING FOR YOU. YOU ARE ALONE.