She
has lost all track of time in such darkness. Last she could recall it
had been 5 weeks since she had seen light. After that days just
turned into mist, and all cycles of life became chaotic. At home if
she stood in darkness long enough, her eyes would strengthen and in
time she could make out the shapes around her. Not here. Here the
darkness devoured everything. The shadows were cold and heavy like
wet silk. She could feel it feeding off her. It penetrated her, and
she wept again.
Where
once there was gold, now there was heavy irons. Where once there was
oils and jewelry, now there were wounds. She was stronger than others
had been. Others had given up and simply died after a few weeks.
Their bodies and minds simply couldn't bare to live anymore, and went
their separate ways. Not her. She was made from strong bloodlines.
She was of ancient lineage, and had suffered many trials and pains in
her life. But she was losing hope. There was nothing. No food or water.
Simply shadow that filled her. It seemed to keep her alive, while
draining her soul slowly. She couldn't move. She didn't even remember
what it was like to breathe. But she held on. All of her focus, will,
and devotion went to staying alive. Staying awake. Never giving up.
She had to. It was her duty.
Deep
in the shadows of the world, the living darkness fed on her spirit.
And what a feast it had.
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