Redemption of the Forgotten Alpha

Bright blue eyes opened in childlike wonderment as I gaze upon my surroundings, a fantasy-like quality tinting the haze of my memory. I was 5 years old, I remember the warmth of my favorite purple pajamas, the softness of the plush material against my skin, I felt safe as I laid there in bed, the only sounds the rush of the wind outside rasping gently against the window. Soft yellow light filters in through the slit in the lavender curtains illuminating the dust motes creating a kaleidoscope as the light plays across the room. Unfortunately, as usual the memory blurs and I’m left with darkness… Present day            I lay awake staring at the ceiling of my ramshackle room, dust motes floating in the light, no longer dreamlike and cheery, a grotesque reminder of my change in consciousness, I ponder aloud “I wonder if I’ll be able to eat today” as if to make it’s point my stomach let’s out a very loud growl as a reminder of how little there’s been to eat. I decide I might as well get up and face the day, putting off the day’s chores will only make the evening harder and if I want to survive, preparation is key. I take stock of what I have on hand: a small pouch used to carry water, four unused logs from last night’s fire, a small piling of kindling, a tiny dented pot with attached lid, the contents of bone broth I attempted earlier in the week still inside. Knowing that I will need more than just broth to sustain me I grab my furs and I head outside.            The early morning light greets me like and old friend. I smile as I close my eyes and left the heat of the sun warm my face. Slowly the sounds of the forest make their presence known, the snap of twigs as the animals move about, a good sign that I might have dinner tonight. I scent the air to see if I can pick up anything distinctive and come up with nothing as the breeze softly ends. Only one more week I think to myself, then I can be free. 723 days I’ve been in this place, caged, forced to fend for myself, my only companion the inner monologue of my brain, the idea of being finally free seems almost too good to be true since it was society who locked me in here almost two years ago, the day I turned 14. Every being on this planet has to go through the “Death of childhood challenge” in order to be considered a citizen. When this practice began, no one knows for sure, but it’s rumored to have started at the conclusion of the Final Global War over 1,400 years ago in what was known as 2024 A.D. During that time, the entire population of Earth was at war with each other, until one day the entire world went black. The details of what happened that day will differ depending on who you ask, but the common consensus is that humans angered the Gods so much so that it was time our race was taught a lesson.