The dark of the sewers was always a calming sight. Here, under the Blight, the pangs from the evil twins steel and iron were not as powerful. One could think with only a minor headache, and only on occasion would a headache happen. Yes, the sewers were a sanctuary, a haven from the humans and their foul metal. The sewers were not perfect however; what it lacked in metal's wrath it made up for in other problems. For example, it was always quite dirty in the filthy waterways of garbage, and the sewers were the only place considered more deadly than the Blight, in terms of natural threats like sickness and disease. Below the Blight, it was also very dark and foul smelling. No doubt from the the lack of maintenance as well. Besides, it was mainly the goblins and certain syndicates that called the stone cave system, of the metal Drezlen, home. Lior just called it a refuge, not a home.
Then again, Lior never really called any place a home. Perhaps he did, long ago, back when he had a family - if he had a family - and when things were better - if things had ever been better. Maybe when the vile waste of the sewers was not as sickening, and when the Iron Police were not as heartless, and when the grass was green and the world was filled with magic and wonderment and joy, then perhaps Lior had a place he called home. Or maybe Lior had never had a home. Perhaps the detritus was always flourishing below the surface like a never ending harvest, and perhaps the Iron Police never had a heart in the first place and were purely creatures of metal and stone, and perhaps the grass was always dead and colored awful shades of brown and yellow and death. Perhaps the world was never filled with magic and wonderment and joy, and instead these treasured things were an elaborate illusion. A misled dream gone astray. A false hope. A lie.
Lior summoned his mind out of such darkness and blinked himself back into consciousness. For a moment he forgot where he was. His eyes slowly examined the bleak environment of grays and greens and browns and blacks, with splashes of red that stained it all. His ears listened to the melancholy music of dripping sewage and of dead currents of garbage, of the scurrying of animals just as dark as the surroundings, and of the footsteps of other creatures wandering the place. His nose breathed in the stench of desolation and despondence accompanied by the ever present smell of the murky water that flowed throughout the place. His hands and feet felt the the damp and rough stone, and he felt the thick atmosphere of oppression that permeated from the Blight above. He remembered where he was. This was his refuge.
The dark wisp took steps forward, turning a corner. Suddenly, those bright eyes perked up. In the distance was a faint glimmer of purple and blue that stood tall against the concrete. The young wisp made his way over to it, with a posture of excitement and joy. That same good feeling rose in his heart as when one is given a gift, for this was a gift. A gift from the unnatural nature of Drezlen. Food. A mushroom! Lior stared at the obscurely colored fungus. Obviously, it wasn't of the human variety, which meant it was edible. Plus, it was only a little bit smaller than him. The benefits of being so small would be how large and filling food was. Lior reached out his hungry hands and tugged off pieces of the hat. It was a bit of a struggle and a lot of muscle had to be used, but with some persistence, the scraps of food were freed and immediately encased in Lior's mouth. Eating was always a miraculous occasion. Sure that food wasn't as good as those stories of luxurious feasts prepared by the Fae in the times before the War of Lost Names, but sustenance was sustenance, and it bought Lior a little more time in the world.
Lior enjoyed himself in the dark, content on the small, insignificant feast that he just had himself and allowed himself to sit down next to the remnants of the mushroom. It was amazing how full he could be, yet how much of the mushroom was left. If only food was always available as this, but it hardly ever was. Most Fae food was gobbled up by the first one to spot it, and the multitude of Fae caused a shortage on the food. It was especially difficult for small creatures like Wisps, as they could easily be overpowered by any challengers. Lior decided it would be smart to take more of the fungus and store it into his sack, which he immediately did. Then, he set out meandering the sewers again, enjoying the dark and quiet and peace. He knew that it was not actually peaceful or quiet in the sewers as he liked to believe, but it was peace from the metal and quiet from the sound of Iron Police. It was dark though, as only the occasional gutter, or crack, or torch provided minor illumination. Lior appreciated the darkness though; it provided ample cover for the dark Fae.
After a few minutes, Lior decided it was time to leave his sanctum of concrete and garbage; he needed to continue his usual mission of obtaining more information on the past, as well as more planning and dreaming of the future. Lior found a medium-sized hole in the wall, where light flooded in. He could already hear the mass of people in the Blight. Most of them poor, dying and disheartened. Carefully, Lior made his way out, making sure to hug tight against the concrete, and trying to stay under shadow. He didn't want to be spotted. After a minute of caution and precise movement, Lior was out in the Blight again, and almost as if on cue, the headache made its way back into Lior's head clouding his mind. An odd sensation also filled his body, like when ingesting a hot soup, only without the flavor and of a different heat, of a different burning. It wasn't as bad as it used to be. By now, he had learned to tolerate and ignore some of the uncomfortable sensations. Usually he could do fine, but there were times when he would need to take a break and permit all of the suppressed feelings to overwhelm him, as constant resistance was fatiguing. For now he was okay, and Lior made his wary way to the chaotic and messy alleys of the Blight, where he could travel with less fear of being spotted, though the threat and chance of danger never lessened. It occurred to Lior that the Blight was darker than the unlighted sewers, in a metaphorical sense.
As he walked, Lior did his best to dodge the eye contact of any Fae he ran into. Despite knowing that they were broken and abused like he, he also knew that some were not friendly and understanding because they were treated the same. Most were selfish and wanting only to preserve themselves, as in nature. Lior knew firsthand the atrocious evils one would commit against his own kind, if it meant suffering with the living in the metal tomb of Drezlen a little longer. Even though he did his best to keep his eyes away from other Fae, Lior was still a curious character and his eyes fluttered to and fro searching for something. Exactly what he was looking for he never really knew, until he found it that is. As his search continued, Lior thought about the Gods, especially of Dagda. He was sure that she hadn't left them and that her heart broke to see her children suffering, but wondered why she hadn't acted. Or perhaps she had acted. Maybe the occasional scrap of food, that one solitary mushroom, was Dagda's provision. Maybe when the Iron Police fail to spot a powerless faery and that faery has another day of 'freedom', it was really Dagda protecting the Fae. Perhaps she did act, indeed, and perhaps she did care. Possibly, the Gods were testing the discipline, persistence and commitment of the Fae, or the Gods trusted the Fae so much and had faith that they could dethrone man themselves. Maybe they were watching, cheering and jeering for the success of all faerys. When another elf escaped the foul ring of prostitution, when the satyr no longer played a melody of defeat but refrains of joy, and hope, and victory. Perhaps they were filled with indescribable glee. Lior smiled. This assumption was both conceivable and unbelievable. Still, Lior had confidence that as each day passed, the sun was closer to shining the world with peace and lighting even the darkest part of the Blight.