I sat in the sparsely furnished room and stared out the window that looked out over the Port.
I had told my lies.
Soon enough they would realize that I had misdirected them. It didn’t matter. The war was over now. I looked into the unlit corner and thought of the beautiful people who had somehow stepped into the darkness and wondered if I would ever be able to join them.
I stood up and crossed the room. I pressed my hand against the cold wall and sighed. I couldn’t really believe. Stepping into a shadow was impossible. Indra was right. Humans would never be able to follow the Fey. We had forgotten how.
Lightning wiped away the shadows and thunder echoed in the small stone room. The rain came down in great big drops, splashing hard against the window. For a moment I thought I could hear Indra calling my name, but then I realized it was just the rain.
Excellent, moody vignette. The prose is stark and effective, building a strong sense of regret and disconnection. The final line, blurring Indra's call with the rain, is perfect. I wanna know that, what was the lie told, and who are the "beautiful people" in the darkness?
The lies they are talking about here are in reference to the misdirection of the army to protect the Fey. The beautiful people are the Fey.