Love In The Dark: The World After

The English Countryside, September 6th. Today is my first day of training for the old guard. I live within walls of three feet-thick and 20-foot-tall concrete. The Old Guard is what protects us; they are all that stands between us and this new world. They’re also the only ones who can leave the strongholds. England, 140 years ago, went through a major restructuring. The entire country broke down into three giant citadels—large cities made of beautiful sandstone buildings and districts of houses that resemble beautiful pop art structures. I grew up in the second stronghold, Londinium, which was once known as London, before I moved into the Welsh stronghold two months ago for training. After 6 weeks of quarantine in the medical bay, I’ve had two weeks of quarantine with my aunt, Lill. I’m currently sitting in the stables. It's customary for each old guard to have a mount, and mine arrived when I did. After the mutation changed the old world, people had two choices. There were those who chose the safety of the strongholds and those who chose the wildlands. I was lucky; my mother chose the safety of the strongholds. My mount was a dark bay, almost black Malto. Malto’s were once referred to as a horse, but as they carried the alpha gene, they are now mutants. I spent the last two weeks sitting in a stable next to her; she was the most interested being I’d come across in a while. As of 20 years ago, Londinium had a ban on all mutated beings, regardless of how harmless. They purposely screened all residents and forced out all who carried the alpha gene. It caused a lot of conflict; families were torn apart, and people who opposed the City Guard were killed brutally. Why? To make a point that all who opposed the new world order had no place in the strongholds. My father was forced into the wildlands when I was a baby, regardless of the fact that he was a member of their guard. There were rumors that there are still strains of the mutation out in the wildlands that can still mutate anything that’s yet to be touched. This rumor spread fear through the strongholds. Londinium, being the largest stronghold, was the worst affected and they took safety precautions. So here we are today, where I’m staring at this young mare with two antler stubs on her forehead, a little deer tail, and deep gold-red eyes that almost glow. She had a petite fa ` ¬ce and a muscular body. I hadn’t seen many Malto’s, but I had read enough to know that most were fawn-like deer. She was a rare beast indeed, but to the old guard, she was just a number. We are advised against naming mounts, as most fall in the wildlands. It’s rare for them to last three seasons. But with my Aunt Lill being a medic in the Guard, I spent the last two weeks alone. I spent almost all my time in the stables or riding around the paddock. I’d never ridden before, but she was well-trained. My mare—I was already attached, and I had already named her. Ariadne, several years ago, I read about a goddess who helped a hero escape a maze, and I was hoping it would translate. She was saddled, her black coat glistening. I mounted up. It was time; I urged her forward with a squeeze, and we set off at a slow canter. 15 minutes later, we arrived at the Old Guard base. It was an amazing site; I stopped in awe. The wind whipped around me dramatically, almost in response. The base was perched on the edge of a cliff, sandstone walls reaching up to the clouds, and in front, a sea of reds and browns. If you look closer, you could see maybe 100 or more trainees, each on Maltos. They were lined up in neat rows, each on their designated spot. I hesitated, knowing I was number 12; I’d be in the front row, meaning I had to make my way past the growing number of trainees. Ariadne, however, stood` proud, clearly more horse than deer. I dismounted, and she followed behind me in an almost dog-like manner. She was already getting looks; no other beast looked like her. She seemed to enjoy the attention, her head held high, her eyes locked on me, her little tail pointing up, and her coat sparkling darkly in the sunlight. She was beautiful; we made our way to section 12. 2 Months Later. Turns out Ariadne is special. She consistently outperforms all Maltos in training, to the dismay of most trainees. Apparently, some Maltos carry gene X that suppresses the mutation. Leading up to the mayhem of 90 years ago. When they tried to cure the Wildlands using biological matter from these Maltos. All with the dominant gene were rounded up and killed. Now, they are a rarity with barely a handful of known Maltos like Ariadne. Anyway. We passed junior training yesterday, and today is the first day we can go into the field, a.k.a. the Wildlands. Me and around 50 classmates were saddled up and waiting at the main gates. We’ve been taught to fight; well, we’ve been taught the basics. Today is the start of a three-day patrol. 10 teams normally patrol the borders, that combined with the cameras, there’s 24/7 surveillance to protect the stronghold. I took a deep breath excited for the start of our on-the-job training. “Key,” I looked up at my name. “You’ll be the second for the patrol.” I nodded automatically. I hadn’t noticed my heart racing and my clammy hands from gripping the reins too tight. Was it excitement, or just intense fear? This would be the first time any of us will see the Wildlands. Well outside of picture books and brief glimpses of it in the distance from the tallest buildings in our stronghold. Even when I travelled here, I wasn’t allowed to see. There are terrible creatures out there, they say, and they don’t want people to get any ideas or try to go it alone. Before I could say anything more, the doors creaked under the weight of the stone and metal. The large mechanism slowly pulled them apart. With every brief second, my eyes widened. At first, it just looked like tall grass and trees; then, I saw light, flowers glowing almost neon yellows, pinks, and blues, each petal reflecting the sun. It looked like a haven. I watched dozens of small strange creatures darting into the grass. My eyes were drawn to a small deer-like creature leaping into the grass cover. The whole moment was breathlessly beautiful. The little deer appeared again, leaping forward towards the gate in curiosity. It had huge dark eyes almost too large for its small frame. I smiled at its goofiness. Bang!