**(I'm posting this as part of my exposure therapy. I have never shared my writing before, I've always been too scared. It's not finished nor have I edited it. Please be kind!)**
I'm in a house bustling with activity. It’s an interesting house, where the level of activity and mood seem to dictate how a room looks.
The kitchen and dining room are connected by a door, and many members of an extended family are present. Some are cooking, others are putting dishes onto serving trays and platters. One family member is taking these trays to the dining room table. Through the kitchen door, on the right is a fireplace, throwing light over the whole room. A big picture window lies ahead, showing that the outside is blanketed in snow. There are shapes in the snow, perhaps other houses. The sky is turning deeper and deeper shades of crimson and orange, but it is still clear and bright. The snow absorbs the light, plays it back in brighter shades of yellow and cream. The whole scene is calm, light, and nearly silent.
To the right of the room, a cavernous opening, leading to the cold, silent great hall. One family member takes a tray to the table, which is a sort of metal slab, sitting in the center of the dining room. Light dances around the surface, as a bluish bubble forms around the tray. As the final parts of the bubble fill in, another family member approaches with a bag, and zips the protected food inside. Though the bubble is jostled, the food inside remains in place. The bag is added to a tidy stack next to the picture window.
My attention is drawn to the great hall. Though the dining room is bright and warm, that warmth stops, as if cut by a knife, the moment you step onto the cold stone on the other side. The great hall is somehow a mirror of the dining room, but not. The picture window is there, as is the fireplace. But this fireplace is not lit, and in its cold silence it somehow seems much, much bigger. I feel as though it’s going to swallow me, so I turn my attention to the window. Through it, the same blankets of snow. But instead of calm and quiet, they seem now to be foreboding. The door behind doesn’t lead to a kitchen, but rather a set of stairs. I know because, though it is lost in the shadows, I’m certain I’ve been here before.
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The door between kitchen and dining room has been propped open.
“How close are we?” Calls a middle aged woman, with just a touch of grey around her temples. She is standing, gazing absentmindedly at the stack of food, apparently waiting to go somewhere. “I don’t know if this is all going to fit.”
A man in the kitchen looks at the pots, pans, dishes, and bowls, scattered about the kitchen. Some are full, waiting for their contents to be baked or dressed. Others empty, dripping the remains of a now completed dish. He calls out “five more are coming.”
The woman grumbles, tosses a bag over each shoulder, and pushes a panel by the window. A small section of floor drops, revealing three stairs down, and two up, then a thick steel door. There’s a triangular window to the side, but unlike the picture window, the view is obstructed by a solid sheet of ice. The woman pushes another panel, and the door slides open to reveal an area of packed snow and three parked vehicles. She goes to the largest. It’s shaped like a loaf of bread, white as the snow it sits upon. A ring of transparent glass at eye level reveals a sparse interior. Panels cover the walls, ceiling, and even parts of the floor. The woman touches the outside of the vehicle, and a panel on the inside dances with light. A door appears where before it was just the wall of the vehicle. The woman begins stacking bags against the far wall, grumbling the whole time.
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Back inside, the stack by the door has been reduced to a dozen, cube shaped bags. The picture window now shows blankets of snow in varying shades of blue; some nearly white, others dark as midnight. The sky is bright white not from light but from reflections. Many members of the family are now sitting around the table. It seems to have gotten larger, to accommodate everyone. The fire is still lively, the great hall sitting opposite, reduced to just a black void in the wall.
The same man from earlier sits with his back facing the fireplace; “We can’t leave anything behind.” he says, “this is what they requested, and it is our last winter together. We must oblige.”
The woman responds, “yes, but it’s also an unnecessary danger. The younger ones are taking the vehicles, and two are on the cusp. That’s a lot to handle, and we can’t go along and risk detection. They really should stick together.”
Another woman, this one with tight black and grey ringlets, speaks up, “couldn’t we send a betweener with them, using light catchers?”
The whole table erupts in agitated whispering, each adult speaking only to one or two neighbors. A woman with slate grey hair interrupts in a deep booming voice; “Obviously, that depends on whether or not any of them are willing to take the risk.”
The man goes to the kitchen and whispers to a young woman washing dishes at the sink. She sets a pot on the slate counter. The scraping “plink” calls everyone’s attention. The younger woman stands in the doorway, between the two rooms. “I’m willing,” she says. “I will go speak to Rela.” She walks diagonally, avoiding the table and those sitting around it, and walks through the cavernous opening, into the great hall. As she does, there is a glimmer of light. In it, I can see that great hall seems… smaller. The walls are white, cast in the blue light reflecting through the window. A vine is crawling its way over toward the window, in search of light. The young woman walks through the doorway, and the cavernous opening goes dark again. In silence, the rest of the family members get up and begin tidying both rooms. A few filter out as the shadows grow longer, each time walking through to the great hall, and each time briefly casting it in a different shade of light. Finally, the first man and woman link arms, about to walk through. As if realizing that she’d forgotten something, the woman turns around, her gray hairs glinting in the light coming through the window. In the corner, she can see the woman with slate grey hair. Chair pulled up to the window, she’s staring outside. The light on her face is bright white. Feeling the woman’s eyes on her, she speaks; “this is our fault, and you need to remember that. Both of you.”
The man and woman nod, and walk through together. There is no flash of light as they do. Just darkness, as their footsteps echo throughout the great hall.
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It is morning, and the young woman from the night before is out by the parked vehicles. She walks, staring up at the sky. There are massive beams above her, holding up a structure of glass, cement, and metal. The beams are a striking white, still visible despite the snowy hills in the background. The weather is pleasant, the air is still. Another woman, younger than the first, is hunched over the smallest of the three vehicles. This one has a rectangular, domed roof, like the first, but the bottom is also rounded. The younger woman is hitting and cursing at a panel, which spits out sparks of multicolored light in response.
“Rela” the first woman says, “I don’t think that’s doing much of anything.”
“Oh ha ha,” the younger woman responds. “It’s really not a good time for jokes, Chell. Please take the hint.”
Chell nods, and walks closer to the vehicle. “What’s the problem?”
“Well, the light emitters are working just fine, but the light catchers are buggy. I tried realigning them three times and they’re still not working.” Rela points to different parts of the panel while she talks, as Chell nods in understanding.
“What does The Elder say?” Rela scoffs at the question. “You know what they say,” Rela responds, “less light, less bright, less right!” Chell shakes her head, holding back a smile. “Don’t let them hear you say that” she says, nodding back toward the picture window.
From this side, the window is just a rectangle, covered in a light layer of frost, a faint glow coming from the other side. There’s a hint of nervousness behind Rela’s joke, and a matching furrow of the brow from Chell. After a few moments of pensive silence, Chell speaks again.
“I know you tried realigning, but if it’s the harmonics that are out of sync it might be best to use a light repeater to seal the parts. It might also add to the shielding effect, and we would only have to offload a couple other supplies to rebalance.”
Rela nods in approval, “that’s a really good idea, I’ll go grab one.” She stands and starts a leisurely jog back toward the house, under the arc of the massive beams. Before reaching the door, Rela turns back and calls toward Chell, “I’m sorry about the joke I made, I was being insensitive.
Chell shakes her head and calls back; “I may only have one between year left, but that doesn’t mean my light is gone!”
The women smile at each other, a silent agreement passed through the calm of the snow.
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It is mid-morning, and I can see a scene unfolding in the living room.
Chell and Rela stand in the great hall, with their family assembled around them. The fireplace isn’t lit, though the bright, yellow-orange light streaming in through the picture window is enough to illuminate large swathes of the room. It is cold, though not foreboding. The first man and woman stand, side by side though not touching, near the door. The woman with slate gray hair, The Elder, stands near the two young women. She’s speaking, but I can only hear the melody of her deep vice, not the words themselves. She motions toward a young man, between Rela and Chell’s age, with a shock of black hair and piercing black eyes. His mother is the woman from the night before, who suggested using light catchers for this journey. How do I know this? She’s standing near him, that must be why.
When I look directly at the man with black hair, he snaps his head up and looks straight at a blank spot on the ceiling. Nobody seems to notice. Somehow, his gaze pierces my soul. But I don’t feel anything; no fear or happiness, no recognition. Does he see me? Who is he? Who am I?
I start to hear muffled words. My attention is drawn from the young man. The words become more clear as I focus my attention on The Elder.
“... and though I know everyone here feels some measure of apprehension about this journey, I also know that Rela, Chell, and Levos have the knowledge and experience necessary to get the last of our supplies to the ancestral grounds.”
Hearing his name, the young man steps forward, nodding at Rela and Chell. They nod in return. All three begin a walk toward the door, stopping occasionally to grasp a hand here, or kiss a cheek there. Finally, they arrive at the door. Levos looks at the other two, as if asking a question. They nod in return, and he turns to face the first man and woman. Levos begins to speak;
“We ask the last paired keepers, near elders and conduit to the ancestors, to approve of our journey.”
The older man nods; “Rela, Chell, and Levos. You are on and between the light. I approve of your journey, but send you with shadows to shield you.” As he speaks, he clasps each of their hands, before motioning them on to the woman with grey hairs sprinkled around her temples.”
I can feel something coming from the older woman. No, the keeper. I can’t tell what it is. I have a fleeting feeling. Is it recognition? She speaks; “Levos, Chell, and Rela, I approve of your journey. Your light is now hidden, let it move you swiftly and silently.” The keepers move so that they are between the rest of the family members, and the three young people.
I have a thought in the back of my mind, but it’s fuzzy. I feel an intense rush of emotions. A moment of clarity tells me to tear my attention away from the door. There’s something about the group that’s remaining. They are the ones staying behind, why? I focus my attention long enough to realize that they are all a mix of dark feelings. Sad, worried, even… sick? My thoughts are fuzzy again. I’m watching Rela, Chell, and Levos as they walk toward the small, rectangular vehicle. It is noon, and the vehicle is almost indistinguishable from the snow around it. Their boots crunch on the compact, icy snow, the swishing of their snowsuits the only other sound. They get to the vehicle and, with a brief glance at Chell, and then Levos, Rela pushes an invisible panel. A small doorway opens, and each of the three young heroes climbs in, one by one.
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Inside the vehicle, the atmosphere is surprisingly warm. A few panels blink with light, but otherwise it is dim. The large windows show only snow, cast in dark shades of blue. It must be late. I hear laughing, and my attention is drawn back to the interior. I’m surprised to see that some time has passed. I don’t know how I know, it is just a feeling.
“We should check on the youngest” says Levos. Chell and Rela were the ones who had been laughing.
“Oh, lighten up” says Rela, causing both young women to keel over in raucous laughter.
“My light is now hidden, “ responds Levos. A moment of silence, followed by wheezing. It is coming from Levos. No longer able to hide his smile, he joins the women in laughter.
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It’s much brighter in the vehicle, now. Morning. The vista is… snow. Only snow. But the light bounces off of it with such brightness and vigor. It is obviously a new day.
Levos lies, sleeping, in a net woven from rope, strung across the curved bottom of the vehicle. His face is turned toward a blinking panel that looks similar to the light relay panel the Rela and Chell fixed. How long ago was that? There’s no way of knowing, but it seems to have been a while. Rela is huddled over a viewscreen in the cockpit. How do I know those words? I feel… confused. Rela gasps, dissolving my confusion into a distant blur. I listen as she and Chell hurriedly whisper.
“Could they have been thrown off course?” Rela asks.
“The cuboid, maybe, but the main compartment? The keepers installed so many failsafes…” Chell, looking over Rela’s shoulder, appears visibly concerned. I can’t see Rela’s face.
Suddenly, I am surrounded by white. I feel… frantic. I look around. I see light bouncing off hills of snow. What’s underneath? No time to think about that. The light changes rapidly. First the bright yellow white of morning, then, the intense warm orange of midday, then the deepening amber glow of evening, and then?
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It’s dark as pitch. But for the first time, I notice lights dancing in the sky, and not on the snow. They seem to dance without moving. They cast a silent, steady glow onto the ground. It’s then that I see it… barely distinguishable from the unbroken powdered landscape, sits the smallest vehicle. The lights inside are mirrors of the sky above. Bright white, dancing without moving. Yet their glow doesn’t go past the windows. I move my attention closer. Now I can see trees, off to one side of the vehicle. They’re also covered in a soft hilly blanket of snow, I only know they’re trees because of their shape. My mind briefly wanders… but how do you know what trees are?
I shake off the thought. Doing so seems to transport me straight to the side of the vehicle. Rela is crouched over the same panel as before. Cursing, but not touching it. Chell looks on in worry.
“Is there a way to... “
Rela shakes her head in answer, then stands.
I notice that the vehicle is not lifted off the ground anymore, but rather has begun to be buried by eddies of snow, blowing off nearby branches. Without looking at each other, both women walk toward the edge of the tree line.
I can see what they see. A large expanse of open sky, stretching without limits above us. In the middle, hills, perhaps mountains, covered in snow. There’s no way to know how close they are, or how large. My attention moves toward the ground, about 100 yards in front of Rela and Chell. But not me. I am not…
I notice a different kind of shadow. It curves with the ground, like a bedspread draping over the edge of a mattress. It is a chasm. Deep, stretching as far as the eye can see, to both our left and our right.
“Chell” I say. “Maybe we should go back?”
“Rela, you know that’s not an option.” Chell responds without looking at me.
I have a pain in my stomach. I feel a sense of… confusion, I guess? I feel lost. But we ARE lost. What is happening?
My thoughts swirl around me as I find myself reliving memories. The kitchen and dining room, cooking and eating, classes in the great hall, the stairs leading to my room… I see The Keepers. They don’t come to my room. Neither does The Elder. But Levos and Chell…
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It’s morning again. The light is bright, but empty. I keep my eyes clenched shut for a few more seconds. I was having a dream. A really weird dream.
“Rela?”
I recognize the voice, it’s Chell. “I made some tea.”
I open my eyes. I know her. I feel safe.
I open my eyes. I’m on a bench behind the cockpit of the smallest snow vehicle. No, that’s not right. It’s called the “Hidden Light.”
I try to speak, and my voice sounds hoarse. “Chell… what… What’s happening?”
Chell looks worried. “I know you have questions. I… I can’t answer them right now. I don’t know how much you remember and… if I tell you too much it… Well, I just can’t, I’m sorry.”
The self assured, funny, easygoing friend that I once knew is now acting distant. I don’t know what to say. But I’m confused, and feel like I should ask some questions. I instinctively look down toward the glass floor, at a rope hammock hanging underneath the pilot and co-pilot’s chairs. It’s right next to the engineering controls. I feel a sudden shock of cold, which drives the air from my lungs. Gasping, I ask; “Where… where is Le…”
Chell cuts me off. “I know I’m a betweener and I … I can’t use the light the same way that you can. But you’re on the cusp, so… I can’t tell you…. Please…”
I don’t understand anything she’s saying. What is a ‘Betweener?’
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The Keepers, arm in arm, stand at a threshold made of cold slate. They had watched as all other family members walked over the threshold. Now, it was their turn.
The woman -- peering at the wall behind her -- appears lost in thought.
The man speaks. “Vera, I…”
“You don’t know what to say.” The woman finishes his thought.
“I just don’t think we should make assumptions.”
“The Elder said this was our fault. She told us not to forget.” Vera responds.
“I know, but, if what you suspect is true...?”
The man’s voice drops off, his question implied. Vera, considering his words, turns her eyes to the wall beyond the threshold. It’s made mostly of light dampening glass, so that it’s camouflaged from the outside. But from this inside, it’s merely a window. This has the effect of making the inside both unfathomably bright and unbearably cold. Through the glass, the woman can see the curved beams holding their world together.
Vera unhooks her arm from her companion’s. “I don’t know why,” she says, “but I need to stay behind. I’m sorry”
She turns away, and walks down the stairs, back into the cold, shadowy, lifeless great hall.
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Rela and Chell, standing arm-in-arm, apprise the scene before them. A deep canyon, so deeply covered in snow that there’s no way to tell where the ground ends and the snowbanks begin.
There is no sight of Levos.
I linger on this thought, trying to catch it before it slips away. Alas… my attention is drawn toward a long, metal path, stretching between the canyon walls. It curves up and down, with no discernable pattern. The sides are only a few inches tall, and the path itself is little more than a foot wide. Any gust of wind, or the smallest misstep, and you would be gone forever.
“Chell,” I begin, “we can’t possibly cross that.”
“Well not if we walk. But if we slide across...”
I am driven to comply. There’s a reason, but I can’t name it now. My mind is preoccupied with the journey.
“Should we make sleds?” I ask.
“... No.” Chell says. “We don’t know who made this path, or why. We should make ourselves as un-noticeable as possible.”
I feel this person, once so familiar to me, is slipping away. It doesn’t feel bad or wrong, just confusing. We work in silence to tie the remaining supplies to our backs. We walk, stoically, to the edge of the path. I can now see how thin the meal is, how the curves have been formed by metal blowing in the wind and then rusting into place. While the surface of the path is still and smooth, the sides are precariously low.
Chell looks at me.
“You are the most appropriate person for the job” she says, before turning back toward the path. Assuming a seated position, Chell slides slowly onto the metal platform, legs pointed forward. Using her hands, she begins moving herself forward, a few inches at a time.
After a few minutes, I hear a faint beeping. I remember my communication port. As I hold it up to my ear, I see Chell pause in the distance.
“Start moing now.” She says. “I love you.”
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On the other side of the canyon, Chell and I excitedly embrace. “I’ve never been so terrified,'' she murmurs into my shoulder. I look back at the abyss. It’s pitch black, like a night with no light. Above it, the path waves in the wind. I wonder if it just started, or if it was like that the whole time. My stomach turns, as I feel myself pulled back toward Chell. She’s taken off two of her packs, and is peering inside one. I feel like something is missing.
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Vera huddles with her eyes over a screen. Using her fingertips, she zooms in and out of various parts of the landscape. Her actions are furious, too fast for the naked eye to follow. Ravel, Vera’s fellow keeper, enters the room.
“I’m worried….”
“... about me, yes I know.” Vera finishes the sentence.
Ravel, obviously perturbed, continues; “any sign of the…”
“... Lightbringer? Yes.”
Keeper Vera, on a wheeled chair, moves rapidly between multiple screens, touching each of them briefly before turning back toward Keeper Ravel.
“The Lightbringer and Cuboid were separated, about one month into their journey. We did not receive a notification about this, for an unknown reason. Two months ago, when I began having The Feeling, is when The Hidden Light lost sight of The Lightbringer.”
Ravel stares blankly at the wall of glass in front of him.
Vera continues; “The Lightbringer arrived at its destination one month ago. We just received confirmation.”
She turns to look at Ravel. I’m overwhelmed by a feeling of relief.
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Rela and Chell stood underneath four massive, curved metal beams. At the apex of the beams was a domed structure. The white concrete of the structure absorbed most light, blending seamlessly into the landscape. Faint glimmers of light suggested that there were windows at the top, though they were mostly out of sight.
Rael spoke first, “Is this a… I don’t know what it’s called.”
Chell responded; “it’s a colony. A light colony. It used to have keepers, just like we do. But they’re not here anymore.”
As she spoke, Chell turned toward one of the arches; “if they were still here, there would still be a house.”
We stood together. Not a house, I thought, a home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Vera and Rela lay, arm in arm, on the cold stone floor.
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Rela awoke, laying on something cold, and a dark room. There was the faint sound of water dropping on the slate floor, somewhere in the distance. I sensed her first, the spoke to her.
“You are safe. I’m not sure how you know that, but you ARE.” I said.
“I’m safe, okay. I can move my arms and legs. I can hear. My eyes work…”
“Rela?” I can hear Chell speak, her voice only a few yards away. Next to her, I hear groaning.
Suddenly, a flash of light. A wall goes up. Simultaneously transparent and not. I’m alone, but I’m not. Globes of light dance across the stone floor. They seem to recognize me, and I feel like I recognize them.
“Hidden Light. The Keepers sent you? Please… They’re close…”
It’s dark again.
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“Where am I?”
Rela’s eyes flickered open as she spoke. She heard voices in the distance, but couldn’t see through the cloudy, grey wall.
Above, a circular opening covered in glass.
It was cloudy as well, but the light on the other side seemed bright and lively.
“Okay,” Rela thought to herself, “I need to focus on that area. How do I get up there?”
Looking around, the walls seemed to barely exist. Slick, pitch black, but also seemingly reflecting small flickers of light. Like glitter reflected by a distance light source. A pit grew in Rela’s stomach. She realized she was looking at glass. Thick glass. They were in large, curved panels, bolted together. At eye level lay countless boulders, and stone walls, but if Rela looked down… She was facing the bottom of a pit of some sort. Far from any source of light. Yet there WAS light. Glancing around, Rela noticed small spheres. Very small. All shades of blue, white, yellow, green, red…
She was so tired. She realized she’d been waling this whole time. Closer to the cloudy wall, even though she had no idea what ;ay on the other side.
Right?
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Rela awoke to the chatter of many small voices. They were indistinguishable. So was the light that flickered before her eyes. Or on her eyelids? There was no way of knowing.
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