Welp, due to popular demand here is the next chapter of Exotics, I hope people enjoy it. The reviews have made me smile far more than I should have.
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Most guardians who came back from the wild knew more of world than the city inhabitants would ever hope to learn, but they still made a terrible mistake.
The guardians had few faults, unfortunately, their worst trait was that of grim expectancy, years of fighting led to the formation of the ardent titans, the fleet-footed hunters and the cunning warlocks.
These houses helped many fight against the servants of the darkness, but that was the problem. The darkness had enveloped hundreds of worlds, had devoured civilizations who had seen them well in advance and had made arms for the specific purpose of eradicating it's blight from the known galaxy; the darkness had no fear though, for the darkness could not be killed.
It was treachery given form, it was not a destroyer, it was a corrupter.
The very weapons made to destroy it were turned against the people who made them.
There was no shot of war, the taint took hold and the civilization fell.
The guardians could form lines, they could hunt it down to try to fight it, but the further they went to find it, the more of a hold the darkness had on them.
That was the fate of poor Yor, years of failing to find the source of the last city's problems had weighed heavily upon him and it had taken little pressure to push him over the side of light.
After his corruption, it had taken a mere few hours to modify his signature so that it would remind him of what his job was.
It was not to murder guardians, but to murder their meaning, to tear out the hope that made them the guardians of the city.
His weapon was remade, no longer did it burn his foes with the fire of the light, now it devoured the life blood of those who stood in its way.
It was hunger incarnate, dark power given form.
It would rend those of the light, and later of the dark, of all the meaning behind their lives, it would mark them, not as people but as objects.
Thorn.