The Beginning of the Metaphor

In the deepness of night, you can find creatures without names. They are nameless beings that hide in the shadow of the pulsing heart of nightmares. With skin the color of ash and eyes like bloody moons, they huddle to the darkness, appearing eerily human but missing all the light of day that they once treasured. No one dares to seek out those who are already lost to the night. Few ask how the monsters became the way they are. Few know the answer to such a question.

My name is Annabel Lee. And I am one of the few.

I am 160 years old, and a fervent member of a race known as Ancients. The Ancients are recognized for their strength and most importantly their faith, to be an Ancient is to have faith. The appearance of humans in comparison to the ancients is remarkably similar, except for a slight, barely noticeable glow that hovers around us.

The year is 3065. The earth and its inhabitants were forced to leave their homes and expand into the edges of space. A new home was finally found, we called the planet Renascentia, which is latin for "rebirth". Here we settled, and the people began to notice that the planet had a rather... odd affect on them. There were a few who began to live longer, evading death because of a subtle luminosity on their skin, some who stayed the same, and some who disappeared into the darkness entirely. So it was, the "enlightened ones" reestablished a religion that had been forgotten since the earth was lost. They called themselves Ancients, and they lived for hundreds and hundreds of years in the light of the sun and the light of their faith. Humans remained the same, neither light nor dark, too lost in their own beliefs to care about the war being waged between the Ancients and the Nameless that could rip apart all of Renascentia.

I am a soldier. Fighting against the darkness that tears its way through the human population. Once a city is taken, it is shrouded in a hovering ash that covers its residents from the sun, and no one presumes themselves worthy enough to walk into the clouds of fear and anger. All Ancients know that the darkness is more than just the absence of light; it is anger, fear, hatred, and everything that can be found when one is lost in the deep. I fight the Nameless. I am not the strongest soldier, nor am I the most talented, but I am faithful.

This is my story.