Let There Be Light: Sc.25-28


                                            >You didn’t know, when you made them, how well hippogryphs would take to water.

                                            >Some of it might just be the thrill of discovery.

                                            >This lake probably didn’t exist a week ago Noire said it resulted from a new river thanks to your dragon friend.

                                            >Or his friends, you didn’t actually know.

                                            >You cant ask Noire because shes cavorting with them.

                                            >You sigh, then look down at your drawing slate, tapping the back to pop out the contents onto a page.

                                            >Next to you, a hippogryph squawks in alarm at the action, then peers down at what you’d drawn.

                                            >Not the first time you’ve done this, but it’s surprised them every time.

                                            >You’re no artist, that much is plain, but as long as you keep things to rough sketches, what you intend to depict is plain.

                                            >There’s something about this new lake that reminds you of home.

                                            >Or perhaps of pictures of home.

                                            >Whatever it was, you’ve been drawing the lake in different settings.

                                            >Mountains in the distance.

                                            >Surrounded by forest.

                                            >A solitary body of water an open steppe.

                                            >You didn’t forget, after all, that part of your mission here was inspiring Noire with more terrain.

                                            >You stop and consider the creature next to you.

                                            >The hippogryph looks over your sketches with great intensity, and it’s several long moments before it realizes it’s become the object of your attention.

                                            >You figured creatures with wings would live in high altitudes, and horse-like creatures would prefer open spaces.

                                            >But every winged critter besides dragons have been near bodies of water, and unicorns lived on mountains instead.

                                            >Weren’t they supposed to live in forests?

                                            >Your creations took on a life of their own, here, despite your vision.

                                            >This particular example squirms under your gaze.

                                            >You laugh and scratch its head.

                                            >They really are quite similar to animals back home, sapience or no.

                                            >Noire’s emphasis on communal living for all the smaller ones may have ensured that they remain receptive to the same physical signs of affection.

                                            >The hippogryph coos happily under your ministrations.

                                            >The larger, more solitary creatures, the dragons, mastered speech first.

                                            >You’re not sure if this is just because they’re smarter, or is shared nonverbal communication methods within groups instead sets speech back in importance for those who live in these little tribes.

                                            >But they all understand you and Noire, so they’ll get the hang of speech eventually.

                                            >It may be weird in this world that they all speak the same language, but you’re sure dialects will branch out in time, so who knows how long that will hold.

                                            >A gust of wind picks up, fluttering your sketches.

                                            >The hippogryph quickly slams its talons down on the pages before they blow away.

                                            >You laugh, then coax the pages out from under its grasp, making sure its claws don’t tear them.

                                            “Thanks. You’re quick.”

                                            >They give you an open-beaked avian smile as you settle your pages out and slip them into your bag.

                                            >How much will they remember little interactions like this?

                                            >Noire insists that your time with them is of great import, but even these little moments?

                                            >You can’t spend every moment around them on your guard.

                                            >Surely they’d be able to tell you’re tiptoeing around them.

                                            >Best just to take it as naturally as possible, you figure, regardless of what weight it carries.

                                            >Not so much that you “have to be yourself”, that’s silly when you don’t even know who yourself is, but if your presence means so much, you’ll make sure it’s YOURS.

                                            >Not artificial, basically.

                                            >You think back to the Griffon proto-priesthood.

                                            >That was an unexpected development, to be sure, and shows just how highly your interactions are valued.

                                            >But in the end you managed to get them to take care of their own, and furthered their ability to do so.

                                            >As long as you can continue to leverage your presence to further the development of those you meet, you’re on pretty firm footing, you think.

                                            >You return your focus to your divine tool of supernatural drawing.

                                            >You have your obligations to Noire, too.

                                            >Once more you return to work.

                                            >The basic outlines of the lake here, its general features…

                                            >What environment will you envision it within this time?


                                            * * *


                                            >The next morning, after you packed everything up, Noire decided to have one last romp in the lake with the hippogryphs.

                                            >They’re very energetic, and a lot of the appeal you think is Noire having fun with creatures of her capabilities.

                                            >Well, at least the physical ones. Can fly, swim, run well.

                                            >All of your creations are more similar to her than you, after all, as you intended.

                                            >When she returned to your size, her mane and tail fizzled and crackled like water being boiled away.

                                            >Which is probably exactly what was happening.

                                            >You’re never sure how much of their fire-like qualities are just for show, and how much is just because she wouldn’t let it hurt you even if it was the real deal.

                                            >As the two of you bid the hippogryphs goodbye, something gnaws at you.

                                            >This was, as far as you know, your last stop.

                                            >You may come across some wanderers on your way home, especially the dragons, who seem to be solitary and far-ranging.

                                            >But nothing more was planned.

                                            >You and Noire turn and start heading off into the wilderness.

                                            >You have her all to yourself, now.

                                            >And she you, but…

                                            >She’s back to your limitations, as well.

                                            >You got to see her spread her wings, metaphorically and literally both, during this trip.

                                            “You know…”

                                            >She gives you an inquisitive hum from your side.

                                            “There’s nothing that says you gotta stick around me at all times.”

                                            >She glances at you sidelong. “Where does this come from?”

                                            “I was just thinking about how much fun you were having with them. You can go anywhere, can’t you? Just like… teleport. Nothing saying you can’t visit them after we’ve returned home.”

                                            >She continues at your side in silence, attention back on the path ahead, chewing on your words.

                                            >You watch her for a few minutes.

                                            “I didn’t expect that to be deep or something. Just an observation.”

                                            >”I do enjoy spending time with you too, you know.”

                                            >You can’t help but laugh.

                                            “Well, yeah. I kinda got that.”

                                            >”Do you really think I must compare the two?”

                                            “Not what I mean. You can have both, is all. You didn’t have to wait this long to be among our creation.”

                                            >She finally looks back at you, with a smile. “It is more pleasant with you here.”

                                            “Hah, alright, fine. Just don’t stay away from them on my account, alright? I think we really did some good, and if you can continue to do so by checking back in time to time, maybe it’ll help their development. Maybe it’ll ensure they stay on a good path.”

                                            >The two of you lapse into silence again, soaking in the late springtime sun.

                                            >Walking now feels like nothing, to you.

                                            >However fit you’d gotten over the fall and winter since your arrival, you feel totally different.

                                            >As much as you’ve shaped this world, it’s shaped you to.

                                            >Maybe into something better than you’d ever been, back home.

                                            >You have no way of knowing, of course, but you’re more than just the average guy now.

                                            >Everything you’ve seen and done has changed you.

                                            >Noire’s changed you, too, not that you’d want to tell her.

                                            >She might take it as some loss of uniqueness.

                                            >But it’s better this way, isn’t it?

                                            >You couldn’t remain isolated from the world literally made for you.

                                            >”Perhaps…”

                                            >Noire’s voice brings your attention back to the here-and-now.

                                            “Perhaps what?”

                                            >”You are right. I should go out and spend some time with out creations, even after we return.”

                                            “See? You’re smart, I knew you’d see the reasoning.”

                                            >”But if you could not go see them, that is missing a crucial part of the equation.”

                                            “Me?”

                                            >You meant it as questioning how special you might really be, but she simply nods her head affirmative. “So, perhaps in the future, you could still leave your mark on them. We have made a pilgrimage to them. They may later make a pilgrimage to you.”

                                            “To us.”

                                            >She laughs, then nods. “Yes, to us.”

                                            “That would be wild.”

                                            >”That would be only natural.”

                                            “We don’t have the space to entertain an entire tribe at once, let alone all the tribes at once.”

                                            >She laughs again. “I highly doubt they will coordinate their visits.”

                                            “Good. You had me worried for a moment.”

                                            >But you hook an arm around her and pull her to your side, to put a lightness in your reply.

                                            >All of them coming to you?

                                            >Wouldn’t that be something.


                                            * * *


                                            >There’s something about the sun, already set, still illuminating a mountainside that fills you with awe.

                                            >Especially since the mountains weren’t even there a few hours ago.

                                            >You look back to your sketches, and dig through your memory.

                                            >Where did your memories come from, anyway, if you couldn’t remember anything about your past life?

                                            >Was your head stuffed with the contents of some divine encyclopedia?

                                            >You certainly weren’t omniscient.

                                            >But your state of being on arrival wouldn’t indicate you’d seen something quite like this in person before.

                                            >A mountaineer you were not.

                                            >Though, you’re a lot closer now than you had been.

                                            >Noire keeps looking back and forth between the mountains and where the sun vanished from the horizon.

                                            >You have no doubt she can actually see the sun, even below the land as it might be, because why couldn’t she?

                                            >Maybe she was gauging the precise angle.

                                            >Your sketches had put a lake here, one of the takes on the hippogryphs’ home you’d drawn.

                                            >Noire hasn’t filled it in yet, but you can see where it end up; a depression at the foot of the mountains, just above the local treetops, surrounded on maybe a third of its to-be shoreline by the mountains Noire had just placed there.

                                            >It actually looks nothing like your sketch from where you currently stand, but Noire is not constrained by perspective if she chooses not to be.

                                            “What’s wrong?”

                                            >Noire stops looking back and forth, and instead turns to you. “I want to get the color just right.”

                                            “The color?”

                                            >She nods. “Different stones at different angles of light will display different colors. While much of that orange is due to the sunlight taking a very long path through the atmosphere, I can still change it based on the surface it strikes.”

                                            >She turns to the mountains once more. “Observe.”

                                            >When you look back at the mountains, the yellow-orange has turned into a fierce orange-red, the rock below the light’s boundary being a reddish pink color.

                                            “Wow. Yeah, that does make a difference.”

                                            >She nods. “I am not sure what effect I want to achieve.”

                                            “I have an idea.”

                                            >She turns back to you. “Oh?”

                                            “Mmm. You know that really dark rock you made that pattern in our floor from?”

                                            >”Yes?”

                                            “Make ‘em of that. Mostly.”

                                            >She nods, then the mountain faces darken considerably, but are still awash with golden light.

                                            “Nice. Good. Now fill ‘em full of those little reflective flakes. The mica.”

                                            >She nods again, and the mountains start to glitter like a dark sky full of stars.

                                            “Perfect! Don’t you see?”

                                            >Noire stares, before nodding hesitantly. “I think so. Like the night sky, right?”

                                            “No, silly. I mean kinda, but that’s not what I was going for. Dark grey body, orange light, full of sparks? It’s like you.”

                                            >After a moment, she smiles. “Ah. Yes, I suppose it might be.”

                                            “Why don’t you lift me up there and fill that lake in.”

                                            >She takes off into the air, then wraps her forelegs under your arms, hoisting you aloft.

                                            >You still get nervous whenever she does this, but you prefer it to just popping around suddenly.

                                            >Besides, it’s a good reminder of how she can look at the world, at times. From above.

                                            >After a few minutes, she deposits you on a rocky outcropping.

                                            >Within moments, huge glaciers form on top of the mountains, and then a great deal of their downslope bulk suddenly melts, cascading huge torrents of water into the rocky bowl below.

                                            >An invisible field before you stops the huge volumes of displaced air from blowing you away, though you can still hear the roar and feel the spray of that titanic portion of water.

                                            >You don’t even think to shield your face; simply watching the process rivets your attention.

                                            >As if a ghost of Niagra had appeared in front of you, a fleeting image of that wonder from your world.

                                            >Just a minute, then it was gone, the newly-formed lake’s surface churning with residual energy, choppy waves bouncing between its limits.

                                            >By the time the water settled down to mere ripples, the light had crept halfway up the mountains’ faces, leaving little left to reflect.

                                            >But reflect it did, into that now-stilling surface, the glow and glitter showing itself below as above, with the stark dark unlit rock between.

                                            >It still doesn’t look much like your sketch, though it is more similar from up here.

                                            >But nobody said Noire has to copy your ideas exactly.

                                            >Like the rest of your creations here, things can get away from your vision sometimes, taking on a life of its own.

                                            >As you hug Noire close to you, contemplating the rock you asked her to take on her appearance, you decide that that’s quite alright.

                                            >At the end of the day, the path your creations take on their own, away from your imagination, will come to define this world as greater than he sum of the parts you and Noire provided it.

                                            >A world of its own.


                                            * * *


                                            >You feel a great relief wash over you when your house comes into view.

                                            >It looks exactly like the day you’d left it.

                                            >Noire’s protection held true then; nothing changed while you were gone.

                                            >But also, it marked the end of your journey.

                                            >That thought twinged with a bit of melancholy.

                                            >It had been an undertaking consuming the last…

                                            “How long have we been gone?”

                                            >Noire trots up to your side from behind, looking at you, then peering at the house. “About a month and a half.”

                                            ”Man. Feels more like three.”

                                            >She laughs. “Inside our home, however, it will have been just a day.”

                                            ”You knew what I was thinking.”

                                            >”I like to think I have come to know you very well, Anon.”

                                            >That pang of melancholy hits again.

                                            “What am I thinking about now, then?”

                                            >She studies you, still keeping pace at your side while your strides lengthen, feet eager for those wooden floorboards beneath them, though that sensation now seems like it might feel slightly alien.

                                            >”You are thinking this whole island is your home now, rather than just a tiniest sliver of it, from the Garden to the coast through that house.”

                                            “Hey, no mind-reading.”

                                            >She laughs. “You know I cannot. But I can guess very well, after spending so much time with you.”

                                            >You look up at the sky. Summer is promising to come on strong, soon. It’s significantly warmer than when you’d set out.

                                            >You shift your jacket, draped over your backpack.

                                            “At least it’ll be cooler inside.”

                                            >”Quite.” She looks back ahead.

                                            >You look into her eyes, trying to discern how she may feel.

                                            >She can return to all of this at any time, she can see it all from the comfort of that house.

                                            >Does this have the same note of finality for her as it does for you?

                                            >From what you can see, she’s just as eager as your feet.

                                            “Happy to be able to stay in one place again?”

                                            >She looks back at you, meeting your eyes. “I can be wherever I want to be.”

                                            “I see we’re still syncing thoughts.”

                                            >She smiles, then looks back ahead. “Our home has special memories. It will be nice to surround myself with them again. This was an excellent excursion, Anon, but I cannot go back and catch these moments like I can at home. I am surrounded, in there. Flickers of the past on all sides, every corner of that structure hides something we shared. These new ones are distant, and when I go back to them, you will not be.”

                                            >You turned your own attention back ahead, to the house slowly growing with proximity. You never thought about it like that, though she had mentioned something similar before you set out. How much of this was out of some ability to read the past? No, that’s silly. She just likes fond memories, though that strikes you as strange when she can see anywhere, anywhen.

                                            “All that choice, and you’d still rather be with me, even in the past, than anywhere else?”

                                            >”All this is for you, Anon. I can have my time after, as I had it before.”

                                            >You squint at your shared home.

                                            >A lockbox of memories for a lonely god, currently being filled.

                                            >That makes sense enough, you suppose.

                                            ”I’ll make it worth your while.”

                                            >”You already have.”

                                            >You fell into silence, contemplating this perspective.

                                            >You’d carried out the mission she’d appointed you often, during this trip, but less frequently the mission you appointed yourself; to be a good companion.

                                            >Not that you were a BAD one, but so much was going on, and for much of it you felt nice just sitting back and watching her stretch her wings, metaphorically and literally.

                                            >Many shared conversations on foot, many shared nights afterwards, but you were so concerned with making the trip special for her, you weren’t sure if you were making the trip special for both of you.

                                            >The two of you individually absolutely; this trip was a remarkable eye-opener.

                                            >But as an item.

                                            >A confession…

                                            >Some furiously passionate nights in the mountains…

                                            >Maybe you did a good enough job after all.

                                            >But she was right; it’s easier to do at home, and so much was already invested there.

                                            >Maybe this was more like flipping a switch, from outward back to inward.

                                            >You could focus more on your own personal mission for her, now.

                                            >You’d finally settled on this idea when you stepped through the door.

                                            >She’d said the house had only “experienced” a single day.

                                            >You’re still mildly surprised you’re not met by a rush of stale air.

                                            >Truly like the day you left.

                                            >Or the day after.

                                            >It obviously isn’t the first time you kicked off your boots this trip, but it’s certainly the most satisfying.

                                            >Crossing the threshold was your moment of finality. Bottled up all the retroactive longing, tucked it away on a high shelf.

                                            >Now you were just happy to be home.

                                            “So, same time next year?”

                                            >Noire laughs. “If you wish.”

                                            “I do, but right now I’m glad to be back.”

                                            >You shrug off your pack to rummage through it, but Noire whisks it away as soon as it leaves your shoulders.

                                            >”There will be time for that later.”

                                            “What’s it time for now?”

                                            >”Me, silly.”

                                            >An exciting gleam in her eye as she walks away, trailing a wingtip under your chin.

                                            “Look, I may have gotten way more fit, but I am a little tired.”

                                            >”Then let us relax!”

                                            >Yes.

                                            >Let us.