2186 12.13 KB 211
Let There Be Light: Sc.07
By E4-NGCreated: 2022-02-17 12:49:55
Updated: 2022-02-17 13:02:03
Expiry: Never
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>Creatures surround you on all sides.
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>Dragons, minotaurs, some sort of humanoid birds and cats, and half a dozen varieties of minuscule horse.
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>All of them looking at you.
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>A rumble in the distance.
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>Thunder?
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>Blue, cloudless skies, all around.
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>And all around, the eyes of a hundred beings.
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>Watching.
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>Waiting.
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>For what?
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>Say something, Anon.
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>Give them the gift of your tongue.
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>Your paltry thirdhand ‘wisdom’.
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>If you don’t speak, they’ll never be able to.
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>You open your mouth.
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>Only that distant rumble sounds.
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>Why you?
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>Why only you?
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>Why are you all alone?
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>Nothing near you but grass.
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>’Noire?’ You try to croak.
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>Again, only a distant thunder.
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>Eyes only on you.
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>They’d never looked at her.
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>Not once, even though she was the one who made them.
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>They only saw you, and then left.
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>So here you’re pinned, and Noire’s gone.
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>Almost like this isn’t you.
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>Just their expectation of you.
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>And what do they know about you?
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>Even less than yourself, and you know nothing, not even your name.
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>They had the briefest contact with you when life first sparked.
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>You gave each a phrase and they departed.
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>What would their image of you even be?
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>Their expectation of her, of course, is totally absent.
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>They’d never acknowledged her in the first place.
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>Say something.
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>Anything.
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>Give them the barest hint of recognizance, that which they denied Noire.
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>Let them enter the world on something other than the harsh reality you’d left.
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>But what could you say to them that doesn’t drive a shard of that reality into them, like a knife into their soul?
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>It’s all you know.
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>Speak.
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>Speak, demands the distant thunder.
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>Some of them hear it now, heads turning.
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>The storm will take them away from you.
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>You wither under their stares but what would you be once they leave?
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>Inflict your signature wound on them, so they’ll forever be scarred with the hard-won wisdom of your home, wrought by blood.
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>Speak, damn you.
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>Speak; damn them.
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>It should be Noire here, under their baleful watch.
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>Noire, the god, cosmos incarnate, perfection.
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>Their true creator.
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>The thunder is loud enough to discern as such clearly, now.
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>A few creatures in the back peel off from the group, wandering into the woods, dark despite the daylight.
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>You can’t tell if this hurts more than their stares.
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>You gave them your shitty words, but they gave you meaning.
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>They’re the only reason you’re here.
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>Another rumble of thunder.
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>More creatures breaking away.
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>You’re not even fully surrounded, now; there’s a gap in front of you.
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>A chance to escape.
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>But you’re rooted in place.
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>Fixed by the piercing eyes of those remaining.
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>Eventually they’ll all leave.
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>And you’ll be alone.
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>No escape, then.
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>You’ll simply cease being.
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>A bolt of lighting flashes close enough to totally blind you.
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>A world of nothing but light.
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* * *
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>BANG!
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>The blast of thunder – from a strike close enough to shake the house – startles you awake, driving you upright on the couch you’d been napping on.
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>Your motion startles Noire, also on the couch beside you, body facing you but watching the fireplace.
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>She often sits here and meditates. Checking the rest of the world, she says.
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>You hope you didn’t just screw something up.
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>She looks over you, worry clear in her eyes, as the thunder fades and leaves only the crackling fire in the hearth on the north-facing wall, it’s smoky smell mingling with hers.
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>”Are you alright?”
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“Yeah, just-”
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>You rub your face with your hands, then shake your head.
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“Just a bad dream.”
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>She considers you silently, long enough to draw your attention to her. “I would not know.”
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“Do you sleep?”
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>”I could, if I chose to.”
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“Kinda hard to talk about dreams with someone who has not experienced them.”
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>”Knowledge against experience,” she mumbles as she looks away. Then, returning her attention to you, “Tell me about yours. What troubles you?”
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>Your turn to look away, with a wave of your hand.
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“I don’t know. Some anxiety about what I’m doing here, I guess.”
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>The details are already fading from your mind, it’s hard to fix them.
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>One sticks with you though.
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>You were, basically, alone.
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>She wasn’t there.
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“I was isolated, in a way. I was surrounded by, I can’t remember. Things. But I was alone, something about me was different than them in an important way and I couldn’t do anything.”
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>You look over to her when she doesn’t respond.
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“You, uh, you weren’t there. And that was one of the scariest parts.”
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>Your fidgeting hands become a much more enticing target for your eyes.
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“In a lot of ways, I’m only okay because you’re here, I think”
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>The ensuing silence stretches long enough for thunder to intrude again, not as near as that which woke you.
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>”Anon, may I-”
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>You look back to her.
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>”May I confide in you something?”
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“Yeah, of course.”
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>”You have asked before what I think of the limitations you requested I place on myself.”
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“I don’t know how you’re handling it, honestly. If it’s a burden or not. I don-”
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>”It’s hard!”
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>Her interruption shocks you almost as bad as the thunder that brought you back here. It has as much force behind it.
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>She looks almost as shocked as you felt.
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>”Sorry.”
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>Calm her down.
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>You give her a weak smile, and extend a hand to stroke one of her shoulders.
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>She flinches away from it, but doesn’t react further when you insist.
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“I want to hear it.”
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>”I also feel surrounded, yet alone. I am surrounded by myself.”
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“What do you mean?”
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>”This existence, as I am now, is not… me. Not all of me. I was not subject to time and space before you arrived. I emulated those limitations for your sake. Then I chained myself to them at your request.”
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“And I thank you. But, uh, I don’t want you to suffer for me, Noire.”
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>”It is not torture. But I am alienated, as you felt. I am alienated from myself.”
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>She looks to the ceiling, as if trying to pierce through it and the sky to look into some cosmological mirror.
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>”Here and now my greater self still exists, because that self is everywhere and everywhen. Everything I experience is also experienced by that greater self. But nothing comes from it to me. I am cut off from myself.”
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>Your hand has stopped its gentle strokes as you can only stare at her.
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“I had no idea.”
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>You shake your head.
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“I don’t want you to go through that just for me.”
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>”Anon, it is not torture because I have you.”
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>You freeze.
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>Part of you wants to scoop her up with that hand touching her, right now.
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>”You are more than my muse. You are my guide. You are comfortable with this mode of existence, it is all you know. Yet you live with confidence despite it. I must learn this quality, because I-”
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>Confusion dominates her face. “Because-”
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>Give in.
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>You reach over with your other arm now, so you can gather her up with both and pull her towards you.
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>She doesn’t resist, even as you haul her forelegs over your lap.
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>In fact, with her size, it can only be as easy as you find it because she, in some minor way, helps you.
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>Even still, she doesn’t meet your eyes.
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>You wrap one arm around her back, and stroke the side of her neck with your other hand.
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>Her mane drifts over your shoulder, carrying those smoky notes to you.
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>Her halo, you can tell now, isn’t actually where you see it always behind her head from your perspective. It has a real position over her back, because it warms your arm where they intersect.
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“Hey. I said you could confide in me. Anything.”
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>”When we were first talking about free will, when you had me Forget…”
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“Yeah?”
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>”I mentioned that it was opaque to me. And that I leave this world when it becomes rooted enough, so it may direct itself without my interference.”
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>She shakes her head.
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>“That means it spreads. Eventually I cannot see large areas of this world. And eventually I cannot see anything at all.”
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”Because it takes over?”
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>”How can I know? I am not an entity that should be confronted with such mystery. Yet there is this void, past which my awareness simply ends. I must learn now to face that. I need to learn how to be unafraid of the unknown.”
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>She finally looks at you.
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>”I need to be brave. Like you.”
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>At that moment, in her eyes, you are witness to such innocent vulnerability that you realize you are not looking at a god at all.
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>You are looking at fragile creature paralyzed by fear.
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>Just as you were, in your dream.
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>This reflection of yourself in alien eyes is too much for you to bear.
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>You look up and pull her head to you, cupping her cheek, pressing hers into your collarbones.
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>Your chin over her forehead, her horn against your temple.
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>You’re immersed in her mane’s scent now, realizing its full complexity, the smell of warm wet grass and a roaring campfire through a crisp summer’s night breeze, surrounding you with enough power that for a brief moment you feel transported to some scene from your childhood.
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>And you can feel her breathing, shallower and faster than it ought to be.
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“I can’t teach you that. I don’t know how.”
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>A hitch in her breath.
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”But if you need a guide, that I can do.”
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>You can feel her smile as she sighs with relief.
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>”Thank you.”
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“You should rest. Take your mind off this world, for a time. You said you could sleep if you wanted. Let yourself.”
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>”Now?”
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“I’ll be right here with you.”
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>She nods in your arms.
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>”Maybe I will even dream.”
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>You let the arm around her neck fall to her back.
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>Slip it between her side and her wing.
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>The dim waves of orange light that slide down her darker feathers had become bright and agitated, whirling chaotically across her primaries.
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>You keep her head against you and gently stroke her side, watching them.
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>First they calm, falling back into orderly waves rippling out from under her coverts.
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>Then they dim, resuming their usual barely-perceptible glow.
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>Then, finally, as with her breathing, they slow.
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>She heaves one last sigh beneath your arms, then her breath falls into a slow and steady rhythm.
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>”Maybe…”
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>The quietest murmur.
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>”…of you.”
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>Her wings droop, one wedging itself between the cushions of the seat and the back of the couch, the other lowering to the floor and covering your leg.
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>The warmth of her body is almost intoxicating.
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>Loosening you.
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>Something about this display makes you want to cry.
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>You’d always seen her as a being of such magnificent power.
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>While, this whole time, she was struggling with something you take for granted every moment of your life.
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>Maybe that’s why you were sent here, by whatever you were wherever you were from.
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>Not to be her muse.
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>To be her guide.
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>No, stop, you can’t let that impulse get the best of you.
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>That’ll fuck with your breathing and you’ll wake her up, with her cheek against your heart like this.
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>You peer through her wispy smoke-like mane to the fireplace, still snapping and popping away.
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>Thunder sounds again, but far-off.
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>A threat receding.
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>Everything here is arranged according to your comfort.
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>This house, this furniture, these meals, the fire.
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>Now you know, this is the only place she can relax.
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>Enveloped within your design.
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>Laying by your side.
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>The only way you know how to lead is by example.
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>But all that requires is your presence.
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>As long as you stay here, with her, until she can understand, perhaps that is your true purpose.
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>She leaves this world, she goes back to being her greater self, she says.
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>You are no god, you cannot follow her, even if you are still here by then. It might be centuries, millennia, from now.
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>Not like she gave you a schedule.
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>But if it took your entire life to show her how to let go of her fear of simply BEING.
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>That’ll make all this worth it.
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>Bring the nightmares, the baleful stares of the creatures you helped create.
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>You give them a piece of yourself, but they’re not the ones who need it most.
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>Of all the living creatures that now walk this world, only one truly illuminates your purpose.
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>And tonight you proved her initial assessment of herself wrong.
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>She called you the first living thing here.
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>But this is the burden that all living share.
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>She truly is alive.
by E4-NG
by E4-NG
by E4-NG
by E4-NG
by E4-NG