Gone, Gone, the Water's All Gone

How long have I been alone? I place my hand on the rough and torn bark to steady myself and it is cold. I am weak. I do not think I will make it to the city where all of my brethren have disappeared. They say it is a magical city with no want or pain. Is that why they never returned? I tumble down a small incline, the roots are abrasive like barbwire, tearing at my cloak. I gasp and pull it away from their greedy hands and adjust it to ensure I am not easy to identify. Mortals forget so easily, but I have a long memory and it was only a breath ago that the soldiers invaded our home and took those too weak or foolish to flee. We tried to fight, but so much had been destroyed during the war and the land had been poisoned. I nervously approach the edge of the forest, and I see it-the blinding white city of machines and law.

I close my eyes to gather my courage before rushing towards the city, afraid that if I did not run I would lose heart. I reach an immaculate alleyway and stumble forward, holding onto the smooth, white walls for balance. I peer around the corner and am greeted by sharp and unyielding buildings. They are pure white, dirt having no place in this great city, and the offensive gases that once threatened our forests are nowhere to be found and, as I take in a deep breath of this city’s air, I feel a twinge of something familiar. It reminds me of my dear friend Leykas, a water elemental. A chime resounds and the buildings burst with life as beautiful, mortals pour out, chatting and laughing. I return into the alleyway and study their faces and see humans, but no humanity.
“Excuse me.”
I whirl around press a young man against the wall, my vinelike hand wrapping around his mouth.
“Shhhh,” I comfort, “I won’t hurt you, but you must keep quiet. Understand?”
He nods his head the best he can and I release his mouth.
“I am looking for the other elementals. Do you know where they are?”
“No, but I know someone does. I can take you.”
I earnestly nod my head before following him to a bronze building, a mechanical marvel that creaked and groaned with gears. The young man takes me inside and we ride a glass elevator to the thirteenth floor. He leads me down the dense and steaming hallways to room 1366 and knocks. The door opens and-
“Rygus!”
I threw my arms around him, my cloak falling to the ground, and my former glory is revealed. My plants unfurl into his apartment, ivy and moss crawling across the marble walls, my wooden trunk sprouting branches and new leaves, and my flowers blooming to bask in his presence.
“I can’t believe it,” he gasps, “I thought…”
I laugh at his astonishment, although I am sad at how he’s aged. His fur is grey and dull, his ears droop with an unseen weight, and his silk robe hung off of his emaciated body.
“I know,” I say, “But I’ve found you and together we’ll find the others. This man says you know where they are.”
Rygus jerks his head in the stunned man’s direction.
“Oh, yes, thank you, lad.”
The fawn slips something in the man’s hand and closes the door.
“Come, let us have a drink, and I’ll explain everything,” says Rygus, leading me into his marble living room.
I follow him into his marble living room and glace at the table, words displaying on a strange device.
“What are you writing?”
“The truth,’ says Rygus, handing me the drink before walking towards a leather armchair.
“The truth?”
“Yes, how this city was built out of the ashes of our beautiful world and the only thing keeping up these buildings is our blood.”
My face falls and I sit down.
“Then the others are gone?”
“Not all. Some are guests of the Council.”
“Guests?”
“Yes, for their own protection you see. They won’t fall in line and so they must be protected from themselves. Once they understand how this city works, they will be returned to society.”
“And you understand?”
“Yes, which is why I am the only person who can write this book. I understand better than anyone the true nature of this city.”
I frown and stare down into my glass.
“Drink! This is a celebratory moment.”
“It doesn’t feel like it,” I say and Rygus frown, “The woods are shells of themselves, my friends are gone or trapped, and you are writing a history of us, as if we’re already lost.”
“No, you misunderstand the purpose of my book,” Rygus says, “It is to spark rebellion, force the people of this city to see the horrors being done in their name.”
“What horrors?”
“Drink. It’s the last of the pure spring water.”
I took a tentative sip which turned into a desperate chug as I taste the sweet nectar that is Leykas’ water. Oh, how did Rygus find it?!
“Not that the city is all bad. No, it has its good qualities. The streets are clean and there is plenty for everyone. No more war or violence. And it is better than before. You remember the war? The camps and gas and bombs? The poison that would flood our woods and streams and the stench of those makeshift graves. Bodies piled upon bodies. I was there you know. I watched a mass execution. They made them line up and shot them in the head and down they tumbled and you couldn’t escape them. Their blood would seep into the dirt and the roots would bath in it and their voices would be in the trees and you couldn’t escape it.”
My face falls as he trembles from horn to hoove. I try to rise to comfort him, but find I can’t move. My limbs are strangely heavy as they droop over the arms of the chair.
“Rygus.”
“But none of that here, thank god,” he smiles, “No voices, no death. Just stone and gears and silence. There is the occasional protest here and there, have to have protests otherwise people wouldn’t be happy. You see, have to convince people that there are things to fix, otherwise they won’t believe. The mortal mind will never accept perfection.”
“Rygus,” I mumble, my head spinning.
My eyelids crash down, like an iron curtain, and I feel my head tumble to my chest as the world spins into a dark and muted pit.

I awake with a spark and I cannot feel myself. There are no branches, leaves, or flowers. I have no shape and I float in the air like electricity. I try to gasp, scream, cry, but I have no mouth, no eyes, no vocal chords. Somehow, I feel glass-a cylinder that breaks me down further and further, reverting me into pure energy. I feel pieces of myself drawn into an elaborate grid and I feel the lights, ovens, and strange devices hum with my power. What remains of my soul curses Rygus. What has he done to me?! I feel the warm houses filled with families and lovers, laughing, talking, not knowing who actually warms their food and provides their entertainment. I feel the cold marble buildings smug with their clever designs. They have achieved the impossible, utopia without the loss of mortal life or labor. There has to be a way out. I swirl around my round tomb searching wanting to scream from the pain of being torn apart. How are they syphoning my power? There are wires, small wires. I can’t escape through them. They will only lead me to the grid and…I control the entire city! Every device is connected to me! There is no escape but…I pull into the center of the device, drawing together every bit of me that has not been sucked by the wires, forming a small concentrated ball of energy that grows in intensity. Tighter and tighter I pack myself together, feeling my pieces vibrating faster and faster, knowing that I was glowing brighter and brighter. Now the glass was shaking and then the pain, the all consuming, soul piercing pain and what remains of my soul screamed and I vibrate even faster and glow even brighter and I feel myself burning, burning, burning, oh how I burn! I am turning into a forest fire and as I burn I feel pieces of myself being pulled away, but the grid isn’t happy to receive me. It shakes and cracks and I feel the lightbulbs tremble and the entertainment devices burn. Tighter and tighter, hotter and hotter, more of me burning away until--

I release myself, a massive fireball wiping away the grid, causing the devices to melt, the lightbulbs to shatter, and the city to sprout in flames. Oh, how we burn!