It started like any other day in our camp. I'd always known that my parents were fighting some kind of war, but I never really paid much attention to it. I mostly occupied my time by dodging my tutors and tagging along with Magras. Home had always been safe, and I guess I thought it always would be. I was wrong.
The darkness rolled through the camp, devouring everything in its path. People I knew since I could first remember disappeared in the blink of an eye. We ran, and in the chaos I was able to grab the chest. I wouldn't leave everything I knew behind.
I followed someone I barely knew as they travelled the shadow pathways, running from the jaws of the Abyss. I still had not learned to travel myself, and was stuck in their wake. The open plains of shadow were oppressive in their freedom, so when we passed through a shadow not unlike the world my Aunt had inhabited, I decided to stay. I was tired, and I just wanted to be done running. I opened up the chest, hoping to comfort myself in its confines...and it was empty.
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