Don't Look Back

by Luyten

Rating: everyone
Tags: Adventure
Length: 432

Focus on what's ahead. You can't change the past.

Inspired by Imploding Colon's story, Austraeoh.

Changelings are mysterious creatures. Not much is known about them except that they feed off of positive emotions and that they can shift forms at will. They have a queen, Chrysalis, who rules over them with an iron hoof in the Wastelands.
Most changelings in her hive are considered drones. These drones have a low level of intelligence, but a few are born smarter, more independent. The smarter drones were kept under close surveillance, and should they act out of line, death or exile awaited them. One drone survived twenty-two years without an incident.
This is his story.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-07-18 04:00:05 UTC

I. Journey's Beginning

Chapter I: Journey’s Beginning

The changeling opened his eyes to the sight of two armored guards peering down at him. They immediately picked him up by the forelegs with magic and dragged him through the tunnels and passageways where they would eventually reach outside. The queen waited impatiently at the entrance. The imprisoned changeling remained impassive as the queen spoke.

“Due to his crimes against the Hive, Icarus,” the name rolled off her tongue like a bad taste, “is hereby banished from any changeling hive, outpost, or settlement.” Chrysalis then motioned for the guards to release the convicted changeling.

He fell into the dusty gray soil, and without looking back, he began walking north, towards the distant mountains. Icarus looked around at the barren wasteland around him. No plants were visible, no clouds were in the bleak monochromatic sky, and no wind brushed the open plains. It was utterly, completely empty. Nothing moved. Nothing changed. Nothing existed. Icarus let his eyes roam about the dreary landscape, and then, after a few minutes of this, fell into a meditative state, not paying attention to anything else but the steady rhythm of his hooves impacting the dust covered ground. This continued for a while, seeing as there weren't many things in his way. Stuck in the brutal heat, Icarus's black chitin absorbed almost all of the solar radiation, making it unbearable for the changeling.

He needed to find shade.

II. Nightfall

II. Nightfall

The changeling's hooves scuffed the gray soil, making small clouds in his wake. The heat of the day still beat down at him, even though the sun was large yellow orb hovering just above the flat horizon. Up until now, Icarus never realized how brutal the weather was. On one side, you had the sun baking you to a crisp, and on the other, the moon chilled you to the bone. No happy mediums would be found in the desert.

Icarus continued trudging across the wasteland, covering a mile every fifteen to twenty-five minutes, yet his goal seemed no closer than when he first departed from his home. It was as if fate was mocking him, destroying one life, only to make his second chance impossible to reach. Icarus shook his head, No, nothing is impossible, he scolded himself.

As the sun set, Icarus heard strains of what sounded like a voice. He chalked it up to being the wind, until he saw a small glint of a campfire, not two miles away. How he failed to see it until now was beyond the tired changeling.