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“The old figure hidden in his cave shuddered under the weight of the air, for it was different, very much so. Though he’d shuddered whenever things changed in the World, a strained gasp left him now. His shoulders buckled at last under the weight he could no longer bear, and he sat up atop the old, thin sheet, the only thing keeping his delicate skin from gracing the hard-stone slab he’d rested on for many, many years.
A trembling sigh leaving his old, tired lungs.
The World was different, oh how it had changed, yes, but he had not been able to stand it, especially when Eleanor Black and her Creatures flourished. It had been awful back when the Vampires and Lycans first roamed the Earth, and he had been weakened greatly by their stifling energy, but it did not compare to the horrible energy that had been Eleanor’s, indeed.
It was why he slept as often as he could, lost in dreams of a time the World was not dark, a time the World was free, magic brightening the air… How quickly it had all changed, and with little warning, indeed. It was true, he and the others had no idea what the consequences would be if ever someone got the idea to mate with the newly-created humans, but no one would ever have guessed they would birth monsters.
The guilt pressed upon his large heart as it often did when he thought of such troubling times, but he let it sit there, pressing into the muscle, washing over him—his penance for his hand in the aberrations’ and beasts’ surge on the World.”