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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2130143
by Lovina
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Sci-fi · #2130143
Death in the Light
The ruins. They drew me, I tried to fight it, I tried to think of other things. Nothing worked. Early evening always found me there, sitting on the edge of a great paved water way, watching the ruined city turn to gold as the setting of the two suns changed the great dilapidated rocks into the most amazing sight I have ever seen.

My father had tired long ago of telling me the story of the ruins. So now I only have my memory to go on.

Beings from far away and long ago had come to Dal, home of the Dalman, claiming to be the Creators of the Dalman. Hard to believe, these Creators looked nothing like the Dalman. Yes, the general shape was correct, two arms and two legs, but the similarities ended there. The Creators were small and hairless. The Dalman were quite large in comparison and covered from head to toe in hair. There was no need to contemplate any further, it was quite obvious those beings were not the Creators of the Dalman.

The Dalman of old had been curious though, so they had listened and learned and followed those beings to see what would happen.

The Creators showed them how to build the city of stone. Great tall buildings. Spacious gardens. Vast waterways to supply water to the gardens. Then they showed them planting. How to grow fruits and vegetables from seeds. How to pen and care for animals for meat. No more searching for food for the Dalman.

Not even the importance of plentiful food caught my imagination like the great city. I sat for hours staring at the ruined buildings, the fallen stones, rebuilding it all in my mind. Night after night, for years, I did this. Even now I can close my eyes and see this city, new and beautiful, full of life, all a creation of my mind.

Many times I was late in getting home. Many times I came close to not making it in time. It did not stop me from my own wandering thoughts.

Until that last time.

I was sitting on the remains of one of the low waterway walls watching the stone turn to gold from the setting rays of our two suns. Lost in my dreams I forgot to leave as the first sun hit the tops of the stone arches. That had always been my cue to leave, giving me just enough time to make it home.

On Dal, death was sure to find you if you were caught out in the open after sunset.

As the first sun hit the base of the wall it sparked a ray of golden light from one of the stones right into my eyes. Rudely awakened from my imaginings I realized my mistake.

No time for thought, I ran. I knew the path well, every inch of it. I ran faster than I have ever run before. I dared not breathe, I dared not pause for even a moment, my life was on the line.

When I hit the clearing I started to think I might make it. There was only a small strip of woods after the clearing and then home. The vast caverns buried deep in the rock was my home. The caverns protected us from them, from the Feln.

The Feln. Monstrous creatures. You sit here, beside me, and you think that I am a monster, huge, almost twice your size, but I am just a small thing compared to the Feln. Their claws can slice a Dalman in half with just one swipe. They have two large fangs for ripping the flesh from your bones. Yes, the Dalman are food for the Feln. When they can catch us. When one of us is stupid enough to stay outside after sunset. There were other creatures for the Feln to eat, but for them, a Dalman was a tasty treat. And I was very stupid that day.

Jumping a log I hit the edge of the clearing at a dead run then I suddenly found myself flying through the air. I slammed into a tree about five feet from where I had entered the clearing. Looking where I had been just moments before I found myself staring into the great yellow eyes of a Feln. Shakily, I got to my feet and started to inch my way in the direction of home.

A loud snarl from behind me got my feet moving again, but I did not get far. Again I found myself flying through the air, only this time I landed in the middle of the clearing. I scrambled to my feet. Now, in front of me, another of the large creatures towered above me. I spun in a circle. There were three of them. They started circling me. They knew they had me, they were savoring the moment before the kill.

I turned towards home. Home. I would never make it, I would never see my home again. I was going to be dinner. Food. A mind numbing thought, that, to know you are about to be food. It was then I saw my father, he was standing amongst the trees in front of our home. He had started out to look for me, I know he did, he has done it before, only this time he would witness the death of his son.

Before I could summon the strength to make him proud, to fight to the end, it was the Dalman way, the light appeared by my side. The light. I was so shocked to see it I had not realized the Feln had tightened the circle until one of them hissed, the sound sending chills down my spine due to the proximity.

All Dalman could see the light. Not just the ones the light has come for, all of us could see it. When a Dalman dies the light comes for the soul. It is believed that the Dalman souls live in the light, that it is the souls that create the light. All of the dead showing the way for the newly deceased. The light shows itself when one is about to die. I was about to die.

Glancing again at the circling Feln I knew my time was short. I looked at my Father, his hand raised, his head bowed; he too saw the light, he was already grieving my departure. I raised my hand to him in kind and dove into the light.

I was not going to be FOOD!

I thought I was going to die. I would never have dreamed that I would end up somewhere else. Especially a place so strange as this!

I landed in a snow bank. Cold and wet, I slowly dug myself out to find myself looking into a cloudless sky lit by only one sun.
Weeks later, starving, scared, emotionally beaten, I ended up here. Unlike others of your kind though you did not run screaming, calling me terrible names, you helped me. For that I am grateful. And I thank you for teaching me your language, for that I tell you my story.

Now I only ask one more favor, this word they call me, the ones who run from me, what does it mean? This “Yeti”.
© Copyright 2017 Lovina (lovina at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2130143