Echoes of the Dark Times

Living and growing world of such possibility, Elorae had always marvelled at the restrictive nature of her life. Of all of their lives, in fact. Not one person in all creation lived without being impacted by the rules of the Registry or the oversight of the Regulators.

She understood the reason. Every child was taught about the dark times, a period in deep history when so much of the nature of the universe was created, when so much damage was done. The cracks in reality, like the one where her creation had slipped away, had formed in those times, giving them, for the first time, glimpses into other worlds, other ways things could have unfolded. The echoes that follow people around caused by intense emotion and intimate interaction, too, had formed in those times. Neither of these had been on purpose. They had been the result of misuse and misfortune, children playing with tools that they were not yet ready to hold.

Many people had died. Many more had been changed, transformed into things that were beyond recognition. Whole segments of society had been erased or rewritten. The ether had first appeared in those days. Some said it was a side effect of the amount of power being indiscriminately utilized, some that it was the remains of those who were lost in the deadly mischief of those on the forefront of the damage. The lessons Elorae had received as a child made the dark times seem horrific.

And so Elorae was cognizant of the reason why things were the way they were, as she was aware that what she was currently doing, the task given to her by Vaelith, could shake the very foundation of the world. Could threaten to destroy what little they had left.

It was no exaggeration to say that what she was creating for her former lover could do the very thing that they had all been warned against in her schooling. It could bring back the dark times.

She walked away from her work station, allowing the ether to soak into it temporarily, giving it the dreamlike quality that so much of her world held. On it held the completed task, the seed that Vaelith had requested. When she first met Vaelith, when she was younger, it was his passion that had drawn her. He was a man of vision, who saw the world not as it was, but as it could be. For someone like Elorae, someone who lived with a sense of dissatisfaction for the status quo, Vaelith was a breath of fresh air. Her affection had blinded her to the warning signs, though. Vaelith's disdain for weakness. His dismissal of mercy. His desire for control.

By the time she left him, he had already risen in the ranks of the Regulators, a powerful man in a powerful position. She was glad to be free of him before he could affect too much damage in her life.

Or so she had thought.

Kneeling down, Elorae ran her finger over the crack that held her lost project. Sending a thread of power inside, she immediately found it, the tag she had placed on it during her last probe still working. It had grown. Not substantially, but there was certainly more power behind it, more girth. She wondered what the world where it had ended up was like. It was hard to imagine a reality different from her own, but she hoped it was a world of optimism, of kindness, a world where ideas could flourish and grow.

Thinking on the possibility, Elorae readied herself to probe further, deeper into this new reality. She brought up her power from deep within, prepared it for release, then...

"I see you have been diligent with your task," Vaelith's voice made her to jump to her feet in alarm. He was standing over her fully-reformed work station, made solid through his focus and proximity. She stepped in front of the crack, shielding it from his view instinctively.

"I did as you asked," Elorae said coldly, "Take it and go."

Vaelith lifted the seed from the work station, rolling it between his fingers. She felt her heart begin to beat quicker as he held it in his hand. Another of her creations, a precious idea, something that had the potential to bring the world to its knees. There was still time. He was bigger than her, stronger, but maybe there was a way for her to stop him. Maybe if she acted quickly, rushed him...

"Before I leave," his voice cut through her plans for insurrection, "I require confirmation. This will do as I requested?"

Elorae clenched her jaw, folding her arms over her chest. He had won. Denying it would be deceiving herself.

"It will take root. The doubt will spread."

A slow smile curled Vaelith’s lips, but there was no warmth in it. He studied her for a long moment, then leaned in slightly. "Good," he murmured. "I would hate to find out you had deceived me. You know how I feel about… disappointments."

Elorae refused to react, though the meaning behind his words was clear. He let the threat linger before straightening, tucking the seed into the folds of his robe. Without another word, he turned and stepped away, dissolving into the ether as though he had never been there.

Elorae exhaled slowly, her body only relaxing once she was alone again. She had unleashed something into the world that could change it, could destroy it. The shame, the guilt, the blame she would carry would be a weight around her neck for as long as she lived. If only she'd had the wisdom to quell her curiosity. If only she'd said no to Vaelith.

She turned her gaze back to the crack in reality, kneeling once more to trace its jagged edge. The power from her lost project pulsed faintly beneath her fingertips, distant yet undeniable, a power she didn't understand, but a power nonetheless.

And she began to wonder....