The Cities Have Fallen

Fight or Flight

I look through the forest wearily, knowing anything and everything that moves could kill me. It's been roughly a month since my last foster family died- living is tough out here. I moved on before the plague got to them, luckily- if they had passed it on without knowing before it took them forever out of my reach, then I would be like them, the searing pains and powerlessness threatening to rip my soul out. I can imagine it now, shedding my feathers, rare for my kind- I'm a Dreamlandian Dalmatian, a Canis breed better known than any other, a white one with dull pink spots like a dying rose.

The plague, which is rarely named in these parts for fear that it might get you next (a completely irrational one, I know- often I speak the name allowed just to spite other Outrunners, but old habits get the best of me sometimes), is the reason for all of this.

My home's gone. My world is dying.

I was innocent until the age of two- taken in by a smaller Canira family. They had just fled from their old homes in the Great Castle, where once, the Queen of Dreamland lived. They called her the Princess- supposedly out of her own request. That was before she died.

To this day, it's only rumors that survive her- some say she ascended and Verhamera took her back. Others claim fiercely that their princess grew tired and betrayed all of Dreamland. The most logical theory is someone killed her not long after she was reborn, although the reason for the murder is still unknown. Our world used to live on a simple, easy cycle- Verhamera used the Queen  as her vessel and oracle. Through Verhamera, the Queen would rule the land and cure great plagues and disasters like this one. When she was about to die, she would be reborn, her life cycle restarting so she could continue ruling forever.

No, we kept all our eggs in one nest and now the yolks are bleeding everywhere. Our world is dying.

It was only two years after her death when the plague, or as it's really called, Half Fever, took hold of our land, seizing it by the roots.

Half Fever isn't like most diseases- it targets not the DNA, but the magical portion of a Dreamlandian's genetics, also known as their Aura. It takes their Aura and twists it with that of another creature, resulting in a mutant species. Their magic is thrown off, and only comes out in random, dangerous spurts where they go on rampages, completely reverted to primal instincts. It comes with crippling pain, mutations that are unspeakably terrible, and more or less living hell. If you don't die within the first few weeks of it, or suicide. The worst part is that it's spread by any and all body fluids, making fighting the insane carriers almost impossible, and when you lose control you could infect anyone. To top it off, it's cross-species. Even if we could get rid of it by exterminating every Canii and Canira infected, well, the other species would still be there.

So you know, politics. Pointless stuff. Personally, I want to find wherever this thing started and kick the first carrier (or their corpse more likely) in the face. Even better, we should find the Princess and kick her in the face too. The royal we.

Anyhow, I live in the forest now.

Alone.

I'm an Outrunner- someone who doesn't live in a protected zone. I wish I did, but I have other things I can do out here. Avenge others. Keep the little hope left in me strong. Fight to live. Of course, there are other things- sometimes I go to the ruined castle. They left it ruined after the Great Castle exploded when the Queen magically disappeared, or her murder, if we are to believe the (most likely) theory.

I'm near it now, the hum of the forsaken energy buzzing in my mind, filling me with something feral. I tiptoe past the tree cover to the ruins. The whole place is rubbled, to the point where only the foundations are left. Large grey stones sit on withered ground where basements have been hidden to hold the ashes of those in the castle when it exploded. Now the once-dead land is covered in fresh green grass, almost too fresh.