The winds howl over the mossy plains. The soft glow of the plants burns brighter here or there as the gusts move through them. How like fire, soft fires, cold. In an unthinking moment, my heart overpowers my reason, and my eyes snatch a glance back home. Tall and mighty and bright and warm, the Great Redoubt stands like a fabled star, a beacon in the eternal night drawing man to his last refuge; man, and the corruptions of man hungering for his flesh, salivating for his soul. What strange things man has called from the darkness, and what strange progeny man has begotten by them. Drawn to the light, that last human and flickering flame yet repels them, but I shall bask in the brightness of man’s refuge no more.
Final Glance
Tale Told 