A/N

Hello, This is just the first of a series of short chapters that will give more insight on the story of the world. I had a lot of fun in writing this and hope you will appreciate it.

INTERLUDE

DELIVER US

"Come on Elisa. We can't afford to squander time."

I kept running. My old shoes were almost completely worn out by this point. I was tired. So tired.

"Where is Daddy?" I asked. It had been hours since we had said our final goodbyes.

My mother still refused to look at me. Her gaze remained focused in front of her. Drops of sweat trickled down her cheeks.

"Don't worry," she replied. Her eyes continued to be turned toward the horizon. The grip on her hand tightened. "Daddy will join us in no time. We just have to keep going. Just a few more steps and we'll be there. There's Dolly to keep you company, right? Give each other strength."

With my remaining free hand, I squeezed my best friend. Feeling her near to my heart gave me energy, but I still felt adrift.

Where exactly were we going? My mother still had yet to tell me where we were heading. Not that I doubted her, but I was beginning to worry.

"You'll see, you'll love the new house," she said again and again. Perhaps the silence was bothering her? Mom was never a fan of quiet. "It will take some getting used to, but I'm sure you'll come to love it in time."

I liked the old house. It was small and dirty, but as long as I was together with Mommy and Daddy, I was fine. We didn't have much, but we were content with what we had. Why were we leaving so quickly now? I kept repeating this to myself over and over, hoping for an explanation.

We weren't alone in our escape. The other villagers were also accompanying us. Strange, wasn't it?

All the other women, like Mommy, were running with their children in their arms or on their shoulders. Many of them were in tears. But not me. To be honest, I wanted to, but I held back.

"How come Mrs. Witchcraft is lying on the ground?" "Aren't we assisting her?" Our elderly neighbor stood immobile, her gaze fixed on the earth, and she made no move to get up.

"She is just resting. Nothing to be concerned about. In a few minutes, you'll see her as snappy as ever."

"Why isn't Mr. Witchcraft there with her?" That old couple was inseparable; I had never seen them stay apart for so long before.

"He's with your father. They have some very important work to do, but they will join us shortly. Yes, they will join us soon. All you have to do is be a good girl. Can you be a good little girl? For Mommy?"

I gazed at her face for the first time. Her brow was slightly elevated, her brow tight, and her mouth was half-open. That expression was familiar to me.

It was the same one she had every time she put me to bed, after she looked out the window. When she warned me about the monsters that lived outside the village.

"Yes, Mom." I couldn't think of anything more to say. I didn't understand what was happening anymore, but the few breaths I had left saved me from making too much of it.

I noticed that my right foot was beginning to bleed. Some splinters must have pierced my skin. The pain was excruciating. Why couldn't we just stop for a moment?

I gazed about, attempting not to focus on the wound. Only then I realized that my father and Mr. Witchcraft were not the only ones who had vanished.

The fathers of Amir and Zvi were also absent. I couldn't even catch a glance of Mr. Uri. How strange. Why were only the men left behind?

As I kept wondering where everyone else was, I noticed that we had approached the entrance to a clearing. Mother and the other adults had come to a halt and began talking.

"We can't go in there. We're not as familiar with the forests as they are."

"And what do you propose to do? Go back? Best of luck not getting caught."

"The kids are exhausted. How are they going to run with all those vines and trees and who knows what else?"

"Would you rather they end up in their own hands? You know what happens to humans who get captured."

I felt very perplexed as they continued to dispute. Who were the 'them' they were referring to? And why were they after us?

I was starting to feel hungry. And with me so were all the other children. Many of them were sighing from tiredness, sobbing from hunger, and pleading to go home.

The mothers were attempting, with very little success, to calm them down. But, perhaps I was mistaken, they also appeared to be on the edge of failing.

I kept Dolly pressed against my chest. Not that I didn't understand their feelings. It's simply that they looked... pointless.

My mother looked at me. She seemed almost amazed that I had remained impassive.

"You're a good girl, Elisa," she said softly as she gently stroked my hair. "Can you please keep going for a little while longer?"

"Yes." No, I didn't. But what else could I possibly have said?

"Let's go then."

The group resumed its march. Mrs. Witchcraft was not among us. Maybe it was for the best. She would have detested that place.

We had stopped running. The grownups had realized that we younger ones would collapse with the gait we had before. And that woodland was full of obstacles that slowed us down considerably.

Roots protruding from the ground, slick walkways, and boulders impeding passage.

And bugs. So many of them. All I did was scratch, but I continued to remain silent as I tried not to think about the pain in my foot.

Mother had noticed the wound and ripped off a piece of her dress to bandage it for me. It hadn't made it better, but it hadn't made it worse either. As a result, I considered it a victory.

I couldn't stop thinking about Dad. I was so worried. But more than me was Mom, who remained mute. I made the decision to not say anything. More worries were not what she needed right now.

Night fell.

The greenery remained silhouetted in front of our gaze. I expected us to finally stop and rest, but my hopes were dashed.

We continued our march on an empty stomach, our bodies reaching their limitations, and darkness enveloping our view.

Having reached that point, I knew there would be no new home waiting for us. No new village. It didn't matter, though.

As long as Dolly, Mother, and Father were beside me, I would fear nothing.

Why had I brought Dad back to mind? I didn't feel I could stay silent much longer. I wanted to scream, protest, and throw a tantrum.

I wanted to eat one of the juicy apples that Mr. Witchcraft used to sneak past me as he watched me devour it with satisfaction.

I wanted to play hide-and-seek with my friends, not to see them with downcast faces and no strength to react anymore.

I wanted to lie in my bed, while my parents told me a story that would conciliate my sleep.

I wanted to act like a young girl my age.

Wanted, wanted, wanted. I wanted a lot of things. But I had nothing.

"I'm truly sorry."

I heard my mother murmur those words to an elderly woman like Mrs. Witchcraft who was lying on the ground. Collapsed might have been a better word.

I'd resolved not to pay any more attention; there was no use in pretending that we weren't in a terrible scenario. Looking back, I'm not sure how I wasn't terrified at the time.

Perhaps I didn't comprehend the gravity of the situation because I was still a youngster. Or maybe I had opted to dismiss my negative thoughts and feelings as just a game of my mind. Something not real.

I'm not sure how long we stayed in that jungle. But by the time we arrived on a virgin plain, the sun had long already risen.

Its rays had never seemed so lovely to me. Some of us had plucked some fruit on our "pilgrimage," and we had resolved to put an end to the stomach aches and pains.

There were not many of us left. I believe less than half. Many friends were lost that day. Not that there was time to regret them. That was a luxury we could not afford.

We assumed we were safe. And we were mistaken.

As we struggled to regain our strength, an arrow struck one of the children sitting right next to me.

It flew straight in front of my eyes. Time slowed; seconds turned into hours.

My friend had died before I could even grasp what was occurring.

That was my first direct encounter with death. My mind was trying to digest the flood of information that was bombarding it. Everyone began shouting, except for me, as I was attempting to figure out if the child was still alive.

He wasn't. The shot had pierced his neck, killing him instantly. Those lifeless eyes. Call me crazy, but for a brief moment, I thought they were beautiful. So... at peace. As if all the worries in him had disappeared, making way for the longed-desired peace.

And then I noticed them.

I remembered the stories of my parents, of shadows moving in the night. Creatures who had made it their reason for living to feed on our fear. Eyes red as flames and forked tongues. Nonsense.

Or at least, I thought until that moment.

Those I saw resembled mature men, at least in shape, albeit larger and more muscular. However, the variances outweighed the similarities.

The thick, dog-like layer of fur that covered their skin left no doubt that these creatures were entirely different from anything I had ever seen in my short life. The features of their faces were also evocative of some animals, although at the time I could not compare them to anything I had ever seen.

I was a young girl, and my view of the world was limited to the insignificant life I had spent in a village hidden from the outside world.

I stood motionless.

"Help!"

"Run!"

"Someone saves us!"

All of the other humans were screeching and moving around, looking for salvation. Indistinct sounds that I couldn't place emerged from the jaws of those monsters as well, as if by mutual agreement.

How come I instead remained in my place? If I try to give myself an answer, nothing satisfactory comes to mind. Maybe I had already realized that my chances of salvation were nil.

Or perhaps, now that the protective shell in which I had been raised had broken down, the prospect of constantly living on the run and in terror -like my mother and all the other people in the village- seemed meaningless.

"Elisa, don't freeze. We must flee immediately!"

Yes, it was still my mother who jolted me out of my slumber. After taking me in her arms, she began to dart away with all her energy.

In retrospect, it is amazing that a dried-up woman at the end of her rope could muster the stamina to keep moving. A miracle?

Nonetheless, it would have been utterly useless. Our pursuers, after the first warning shot, had remained strangely still, leaving us time to move away.

It was probably simply a game to them. We were probably never truly safe. Giving us a head start was, weird as it may sound, a method to make the hunt more honorable. Or perhaps they were simply bored and were attempting to make an otherwise uninteresting game more intriguing.

The truth is that we had reached the end of the line at this point. There were no places to hide, nor could we physically compete with our tormentors.

A few more minutes was all we could have hoped for.

I saw one of those things -now I know they are called Bafolk, but at the time I could find no other term to describe them- overpowering a woman who was trying in vain to protect her child.

"Leave me, leave us beast!" she screamed and screeched, kicking and beating her assailant.

The disparity in strength was simply too great. Her defiance was fruitless.

She was immobilized with ropes, and practically the entire rest of our group suffered the same fate.

Soon the same fate would befall the two of us. My mother had collapsed but continued, crawling, to try to pull away. And I with her.

One of the assailants had placed himself in front of us. He wielded a sword. Judging from his position, it was his intention to cut off our limbs to prevent us from escaping. The blade was about to cut our bodies to pieces.

And then...

A memory was vivid in my mind. My father had attached wires to Dolly, which he maneuvered with his fingers to allow her to stand on her feet.

For a moment, I thought that my best friend had come to life and would finally start acting like a normal human being.

My disappointment was immense when, after my father had disconnected those wires, Dolly lost that hard-won position.

There, that vivid image that had accompanied me for so many years was reproduced right there before my eyes.

The monster now stood in the same position as us, but every glimmer of life had left its body.

Another actor had entered the scene. Covered entirely in a dark, colorless cloak, he wielded a strange weapon equipped with two curved blades on either side with a third blade in the center.

I am sure he observed me and my mother before he muttered something that neither she nor I could understand. What I would give to be able to go back to that day and be able to clearly grasp what were the first words spoken by him in our world.

At this point, my memories become confused. I think there was a fight -if you can call the massacre that followed that way-.

It was so quick that I could not realize anything that was happening in front of me.

The fact is that in the end, all our tormentors were dead. Their blood had bathed the landscape red.

In addition to our rescuer, five others were rendering aid to us.

They were human beings, like us. But the difference between the two groups was day and night.

We were dirty, malnourished, weak, and pathetic.

On the other hand, how can I describe them? No adequate words have been coined to describe their beauty and magnificence.

If I tried to depict the shape of their bodies, I would be committing a most grievous sin, for my mere words as an ordinary girl could not even come close to encapsulating the perfection with which every smallest detail came together to create a glimpse of what was living proof that the concept of perfection existed.

I wept. My bitter tears reflected the realization that the gulf between us and them was unbridgeable. The realization that there would never be any chance in this world to bridge that endless gap.

But don't think that sadness was the only emotion I felt that day. My despondency was only a drop in the sea of feelings that took shape in me. An ocean of joy and amazement at what had been a miracle that had brought us salvation.

Our prayers had been heard.

The Gods had come to save us.