False Light.

I remember it like it was yesterday. Magic was flowing through the air, the sky was bright, and the village was happy. Then the darkness came and there was only a few people in all of the kingdoms who could protect us. I lived in a small village on the outskirts of our kingdom we were the last people that anyone would protect. On the day that the darkness came for us we were blessed with a hero to protect us. They were passing into our kingdom and we could see the light shining through in the Darkness pushing it away until the sky was glowing blue in the night with magic vanquishing the darkness. The people were happy and laughing. But not me. The light killed my mother, the light killed my best friend, the light stole my happiness. The so-called hero didn't care who died as long as the darkness was vanquished. We lost people in our village who were normal and had shown no signs of Darkness infecting them. If only the hero had healed them instead of vanquishing them. A hero who only cares about fame and doesn't think of consequences. It wasn't just me, I wasn't the only one who found nightmares and loss from the light. Stepping into the darkness was the only choice I had to save those who couldn't be saved by the Light.