A/N: Whew. I have not been in this fandom for...two years? Two and a half years? But I just randomly started writing this one day. A while ago. I have the prologue and three and a half chapters finished. I may finish the entire piece, I may not. We'll see. It all depends upon my mental state and my willpower. I wonder if any of my old buddies from the JnD fandom of 2004/2005 are still around?

Disclaimer: Gees, I haven't written one of these in a while. Weird feeling. Anyway, 'snot mine.

When the Rain Falls, Children Hide Away Indoors

Prologue

The Mar That Was Not

I walk the darkest path.

People speak of the great Mar who founded Haven City: how he built the eco grid, how he built the shield walls, how he held back the invading Metal Heads and saved the city all through time, a great champion of the people there who lingered there, who lived there, who looked upon him as though he were some kind of god.

They tell of his return to the future, to save the city not once, but twice; once from the Metal Heads, the other from the evilest of all beings, the Dark Makers.

I have a connection with those who he destroyed: we lurk in shadow, we share the darkness.

The people speak of Mar as though he were a Precursor. But that is impossible, for he was only an elf. Very gifted, yes, but only an elf.

In being so connected with his enemies, I am a blemish upon his perfect world. It is because of me that his soul is and has been tainted.

But it is also said that there were others—that Mar was not just one, that there were more than one. Some say that is ridiculous, and that those who believe there was more than one are implying that Mar had been insane, a schizophrenic. They will not believe it; they will not hear of it. They hoist their Mar up on a pedestal, bolstering his image of perfection, emphasizing all their weaknesses through his flawlessness.

He is me; he is tainted. But the hopefuls and the believers and the soul searchers and the perfectionists will never even try to understand. They do not acknowledge me; they do not acknowledge him, either, because of me. Because of us, actually. Because of my brother and me.

The people will not recognize the real Mar of the common day; they say that he has turned into someone else, that he is the wrong person, that Mar died with the Dark Makers. Though Mar’s body still walks the earth, it is not Mar: that Mar does not wish to help people, does not wish to save the world—only cares for himself. That is not who Mar is, for Mar is perfect and Mar cares for his people and Mar is a god whose only concern is to make sure that his city prospers.

Those people are fools. They do not know what we have been through.

But do you know what else is said? It is said that Mar is tired of it. Tired of what, you ask?

Simply said, Mar is tired of being Mar. Mar is a person; Mar has a life. Mar is only an elf. So leave him be for a bit and do not forget that Mar is not a god nor a Precursor: Mar is an elf who walks the darkest path; Mar is an elf who flies high, shining in glorious light; Mar is an elf who is a championship racer; Mar is an elf who is a Wastelander; Mar is an elf who has concerns of his own.

We are tired of helping people when people will not try and help themselves.

It is said that Mar, rather than dying with the Dark Makers, was actually born with the fall of the Dark Makers. Figuratively speaking, of course.

But don’t you understand? The real Mar has been born: the Mar who will show that everyone can help themselves, that everyone has courage, that everyone is a Mar, if only they put their heart to it.

We are tired of being the hero.