HEXE - BOOK of The Long Night

> “1980 days left.” by Duvencrune, Edgar O. Diary of the Long Night, 111th Edition

It was a very long Night.

And it had been a very long night, stretching throughout the last seventeen Winters.

Claramae felt the weight of each step as her boots stomped through the snow, mashing it with a muffled crunch. The cold seeped through her footwear, and her socks were already drenched in rime. Despite her thick, woollen coat, she was still cold.

As she walked, she observed the wires that crisscrossed above her, a network of human engendering that seemed almost invasive against the backdrop of the town's simple architecture. The constant, low buzz of electricity in the air was still an alien sound to her ears.

The light and life of Mir-Sun were now trapped within the four walls of each household, leaving the outside world in a dim, eerie stillness. The town was no longer bustling, with people walking in and out. It has simply succumbed to an almost ghostly silence, a clear contrast from Fall to Winter.

The world changed rapidly, yet the long Night was here to stay.

As Claramae stepped into the convenience store, her gaze was immediately drawn to the posters plastered on the wall. Posters and photos of faeries who had vanished without a trace, never to return back to Faewood. She had been the one to post them, forty-four names. The numbers, dishearteningly, continued to rise. How many now? One hundred and two? Maybe more?

In recent Winters, faeries and other winged creatures had started to hide their wings. They would tuck them under corsets, binding them tightly under their clothing. This precaution was a way to blend in, allowing them to be easily mistaken for faes or even humans for their own safety.

Taking a deep, steadying breath to brace herself, Claramae approached the store counter. This place, more a warehouse than a typical convenience store, was dimly lit and cluttered, with shelves haphazardly stocked with a mishmash of goods.

"Hey, Humbert, are you there?"

Humbert's eyes were vacant as he looked up, his expression hollow. The big guy with a kind smile was now weary and absent. Claramae knew all too well the reason behind that look. It was the same vacant gaze she'd recently seen in so many of her users’s faces.

"Did you bring more?" Humbert asked, his voice lacking its usual warmth.

"Hum, Humbert, this is the third time this week. And... you don't look so good." Claramae could clearly see that Humbert was now a leftover of his former self.

"I have three gallons of fuel, warm clothing, and the boy's new boots," said Humbert, bypassing pleasantries and diving straight into bargaining. It was a survival mechanism, a way to cope with the dwindling supplies. "He needs clothing. The lad has grown up and is taller than you... and there is almost no fuel for your generator, right?" he added. “Can’t see Faeries live long without warm water, just saying.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"Add two pairs of trousers and a complete suit, brown—you know he likes brown—and socks. Did you get it?" The Faerie asked with her best poker face.

The human storekeeper simply nodded.

Claramae reached into her coat pocket, her fingers wrapping around a parcel she had carefully concealed with parchment paper. She discreetly slid the package across the counter's surface.

Humbert snatched up the package almost immediately. He eagerly unwrapped it, his nose twitching as he sniffed the contents. His fingers sorted through the slices of mushrooms.

"It's missing two," Humbert stated flatly.

Claramae sighed, her frustration tensing the line of her mouth. The star mushrooms had become more than just a rare delicacy; they were a scarcity and addiction that plagued the town’s community, particularly among humans like Humbert. Their reliance on these mushrooms had grown in the wake of the long Night, becoming a crutch to cope with the bleakness of their new reality.

"Humbert, you've been consuming them daily. I'm really worried about you."

"I want the missing slices in the next delivery," Humbert insisted with no room for debate.

"Humbert, please listen to..."

"Next delivery, or there won't be any more deliveries. Do you understand me, faerie?" Humbert's voice held an edge of threat, a hardness that hadn't been there before. But Claramae had learned to recognise when there was no more space for any further bargain.

She paused, her expression softening as she sought to understand. "Why?" she finally asked. "What... what does it do to humans?"

Humbert chuckled cynically, "Well, it's like a lucid dream. I can see my little Helen again. I can hug her, smell her, play with her, and sometimes, I even see my wife." Humbert's voice cracked slightly, “Did you know she passed away last moon? We were married for ten Winters."

"No, I didn't know that," Claramae replied.

"The doctors said she got a nasty infection in her lungs, and there was nothing more they could do." Humbert's eyes were distant, lost in the pain of his memories. "So, yeah, maybe I'm becoming a fucking junkie. So what? But at least... I'm not really alone, you know? Can you understand that?"

He turned his back, not giving Claramae a chance to say she was sorry without really feeling or understanding the pain.

Humbert just disappeared into the back room of the warehouse-like store. Moments later, he returned, carrying several packages. "This is everything you asked for," he said, a bit more composed now. “I've placed an order for a couple of new corsets for the next delivery, and I ordered those boots you wanted. I got a nice deal, but they have a higher platform for the shorter faeries. So they look less… you know, faerie."

Then, with a slight trace of concern, he added, "I've heard that a bunch of mercenaries are hunting your kind like game."

Claramae’s expression turned grave at this news. "Did you catch anything else? Any reason why?" she asked. The thought of mercenaries hunting them was a living nightmare for her and her colony. It was nothing new for the past decade, but they still couldn’t understand why. What was the gain?

"I'm not as smart as your little guy, but I'd guess it's the same reason why you're involved with these little mushrooms. By the way, do you know where you'll send Orlo now that he's graduated?" Humbert asked.

Claramae paused in the midst of gathering the packs of goods, a look of confusion crossing her face. "Graduated? Orlo is only seventeen!" she exclaimed, clearly surprised by Humbert's assumption. "He didn't graduate! I would know!"

"I've been hearing for a while now... that he graduated eight moons ago. People have seen him around every day and expected that you'd send him to college."

"That's impossible!" Claramae retorted, her voice laced with disbelief. The idea of Orlo, still so young, being seen as ready for such a step was unthinkable in her eyes. "He... no, no, he is still in high school. He couldn't... you said eight moons ago? Almost a…a… full Winter?"

"Claramae, that little fellow is not like you and me. Compared to him, we're just arses. I think he is playing you all."

“Fucking kid, that Orlo will drive me nuts.”

> I am writing to you today with great enthusiasm to recommend a prodigious young talent for admission to the University of Science and Technology at Regulus, with a strong endorsement for a full scholarship. His academic prowess became evident when he graduated for the first time in Mathematics at thirteen. Since then, he has achieved the remarkable feat of graduating in Literature, Science, and Arts, each time as the top student in his class, with a final grade of 19.2. As the Dean of Mir-Sun High School, I have witnessed this student’s extraordinary journey, which has been nothing short of remarkable, especially considering he is only seventeen Winters old. — letter of recommendation from Dean of Students of Mir-Sun High School, 1st Moon, 17th Winter