In the beginning the world was nothing but darkness. Gloom, disease, death, and heartbreak enveloped the world consuming all that was good. There was a time my people were celebrated for our gifts, a time when there was harmony. But that peace was always fragile. The Hollows were threatened by our presence instead of seeing how much we could help. We lost our home and our rights slowly. We even lost our magic for a time. Those were the darkest of days for my people. King Dolion, the tyrant king of The Hollows chased us from our homes taking advantage of our temporary weakness and forced us underground, deep into the depths of a cave system where they didn't dare step
We were taken for granted as we were the only ones who held off the darkness. Once we were chased underground the world succumbed to it. We became nomads; shunned from society and killed on the spot if we were ever discovered venturing out the dark caves.
There is a dispute over which is worse. Those forced to run, longing after the tiniest bit of freedom they had in the end or those who were born in our new home, the Caverns, having never known the sun. I was the first to be born in our new home. My mother barely managed to lead our people through the vast tunnels between each contraction. After a harrowing journey, my mother sat down in a cavern and gave birth to me. We settled there as my birth was acknowledged as an omen of fertility, health and luck. We've thrived under ground with my mother, the high priestess, Arlie, leading our people.
On the eve of my 21st birthday, my world changed forever and it all started with a vision. I was standing in a meadow, surrounded by sunflowers. I could feel the heat from the sun as it shone down on me from a cloudless, blue sky. I closed my eyes and shadows danced across my eyelids. I felt free and safe. Abruptly, my skin tingled with electricity and the sky let out a deep rumble. My eyes shot open, the sky now black with threatening clouds full of rain. The sunflowers, once so full of life, were now black in death. Stood before me was a boy. He had curly, brown hair and tanned, caramel skin. His clothes were strange, and in his left hand he clung to a sword. His face was still and calm but there was pain in his eyes. I felt the drip of rain on my skin but when I looked it was a deep red. Blood. The boy collapsed on to his knees, looking up at the sky. His once shiny sword was drenched in blood and his clothes were now ripped as though they had seen battle. He let out a loud cry that would haunt me for weeks to come and I was ripped away back into reality.