Of Unseen Things II

Though I’d never seen it, I liked to believe there was a Sun.

It seemed comforting to me; a large massive ball of burning fire in the mythical sky. It would watch me, as it had with countless others from the past and present. And it would watch the future beyond me. It wouldn’t judge nor lord over anything, but its mere presence would inspire the masses; creating a people of light, of the Sun.

She was never touched by light, in body or spirit. The endless darkness that Her silken hands felt relentlessly and that Her eyes searched hopelessly, seemed to have bleached Her skin and hair a pearly white. She was never felt the caress of Time either and I knew that She had existed long before me and would continue to roam after I had died. That is, if I hadn’t killed Her first.

I used to visit Her often, always during the Time of Sleep. I would sneak away with a glo’em to Her location, not for Her, but so that I could find where I was going. My mother used to tell me of the Time when people like us lived nearer to the Surface. Then they had to use burned wood for light instead of glo’ems. She said they had to build intricate tunnels so the toxic smoke could travel away. But as the ages passed, the people fell deeper and deeper, and found minerals that glowed brightly without excess. The need for contact with the Surface was eliminated.

No one remembered then, only spoke of it. Whenever I asked Her if She remembered, She gave a complicated answer in that strange language of Hers. Her language was not words, but gestures and expression. It was never something heard, but felt. Like the tickling of a distant memory.

It was just before the news had reached me that Her deft hands, that memorized every crack and curve of the myriad of rocks around Her, had grasped mine. It was a cold startling feeling. She was trying to tell me something but, though my heart tugged with worry, I couldn’t understand. I held the glo’em close to me as I went back home.

I visited my mother soon after. She was slowly, methodically, cleaning her small living space. I had long moved from the cave to an alcove of my own. Whenever people see me visiting her, they find it strange. For families stay together throughout generations. But my mother never liked me visiting Her and it was just easier for me to leave and live on my own.

I stepped through the dried-herb entrance into the sweet smelling inside. It was warm from the glo’ems she had placed in the corners. I spoke to my mother then of my strange experience with Her. She turned to me, her wiry hair hanging around her face, “Don’t drift too close to that strange being. She is nothing but a living fantasy and can’t contribute to reality,” She paused then, her frame becoming tired, “But there has been disturbing news. The Rains have started.”

My stomach dropped. The Rains were our only predator in this silent, dark world. The rushing water could sweep into our hidden place and turn our homes into drowning traps. The Rains hadn’t started in many ages, but every person could smell the dank, murky smell when it occurred.

My mother turned from me then, tending to her dinner. She had laid out a series of sweet moss and spicy mushrooms, her favorite combination. When I was growing up we never ate meat, for we didn’t like the taste of it raw. There were so few creatures anyway, only the Blind Fish in the ice lakes and the Bottom Diggers, some of which were hardly larger than my forearm. Some of the few people that came by spoke of how to dry the meat to make it tasty, or they spoke of people used to use burning flame to cook it. But flame is dangerous and nonexistent in this place.

My mother was looking at me, “They say the Rains have never been this bad. Soon the water will reach here and there will be no place to go,” She tightened her mouth into a worried look, “We can do nothing. Can’t go further down and going to the Surface would be even more dangerous. Do you understand, Day?”

I nodded, but it wasn’t true. I was young at the time, and facing absolute death was not something my immature mind could understand. And though going to the Surface was as fantastical as my mother thought She was. I had never heard why the Surface was so dangerous, but every shadowed person was terrified of it.

During the Time of Sleep, I went to Her again. She always waited for me in the same place and let me follow Her as She trekked through the endless labyrinth of rock. She had to slow down for me as I squeezed and forced my through. She never had any trouble and moved around the rocks as if She was simply apart of them.

“Have you heard?” I asked when She stalled for me. Her silken hair draped over Her shoulder as She looked at me, “The Rains are coming. They say that…we will all die if we remain here,” Her eyes flashed worry and Her fingers twitched near my glo’em.

I know.

I translated slowly. I lifted myself over the edge of a jutting rock, “But I was thinking, what if we went to the Surface? Went above the Rain before it reaches? But no one is willing to risk themselves on the journey,” I paused, “Then I thought, if we have certain death down here, why not take the risk? It is better than nothing,” She looked at me closely, Her eyes not judging, but startling at the same time. I couldn’t stand the stillness, “What are you going to do?” I asked desperately. She used both Her hands this time and She had to repeat the gesture before I could understand.

I will remain here.

“But then what will happen to you?” My arms were shaking slightly as I propped myself up to be close enough to see Her. She reached out and ran Her cool fingers over my shaken muscles. They relaxed and I sighed in relief. Her answer came so quickly after that I barely caught it.

I will die.

I started crying then; the hopelessness taking over me. And, with Her unwanted blessing I began to understand death. There weren’t many people in this dark place. She was my only friend and companion besides for my own mother. Other people I had seen and come across, but never could I connect with them. Their faces were always shadowed from their glo’ems as they moved from my life. She reached out and touched my wet cheeks. I felt Her fingers movements on my face instead of seeing them.

Life must end, Day.

I shuddered; I always did when She said my name because the hand gesture was always followed by a soft whisper. It was never enough to truly hear, but enough to pretend to. I looked at Her, desperation in my eyes, “I will go to the Surface!” I blurted out, my resolve stunned. She perceived at me carefully.

So you will.

“I-I will take you to the Surface with me. You will live and we will return here after the Rains stop. And then you will let me follow you as I follow you now,” I stared at Her steadfast, unwilling. My mind’s sudden decision was petrifying, but I would not back down.

She nodded to me and said nothing more. She continued to move on and the conversation was done. When I went back home, I told my mother of my decision. She frowned at me, “Then you will travel without me. If that is your choice, Day,” I knew she would say that, she would never travel with Her, she would never travel to the Surface. No one would, only I was willing. I left the after giving my farewell and my mother gave her’s to me.

She was waiting for me and I smiled when I saw Her, “Are you ready? Do you have everything?” She held out Her hands, showing nothing. I nodded, I didn’t expect much. I knew of Her strange way of living, without anything under Her fingertips besides the stone She seemed to be born from, “Then we move up.”

I led the way, though we would go much faster with Her leading. But every time I looked back, She was feeling over every rock like it had special importance. When She noticed me watching, She lifted Her hands to my vision.

I’m saying goodbye.

“You don’t need to. We’ll be back once the Rains subside,” I moved forward, ignoring Her next words. I was too busy trying to overlook the idea that if we came back, there would be no guarantee that everyone else in the shadowed world would still be there.

Climbing, through the endless tunnels and endless caves, is the first thing a child learns in this world. At a certain age, before the knowledge of speech comes, a child can race through the caves like a flickering shadow. Only their raw instincts telling them where the handholds are, where there is a dip, a turn, where they must wiggle on their stomach or where they can stand and sprint like they were born to. But when a child grows up, learns the way of the world, learns about the people, the knowledge is lost and they stumble and fall like everyone else.

I’d like to think it was a reminder that the people were never meant to live in this dark world.

Traveling to the Surface was tedious and long. Rest had to be taken frequently and I often felt the stress of changing pressure. It was like great hands were pushing a kneading me into a shape I was unfamiliar with.

Though She ate little, our food was starting to run low when I felt the slickness of the tunnels and my foot sunk ankle deep into a puddle. The Rains were new here and it would be all too soon before the puddle would be a deathly pool and the rest of the water would travel further down. She bent near to the small collection of water; Her shaking fingers touched it apprehensively. She feared it, and so I feared it. We moved slower after that.

The change in the air came next. The overused, dank smell of both our homes was replaced by the fresh musk and decay. I soon grew accustomed to it, but it was too easy to notice Her labored breaths. When we took a break, I asked Her, “Are you feeling alright? Do you need a handkerchief to cover your face?” She shook Her head, the silver hair matted against her back.

This air has touched light.

My eyes widened. I had not known we where that close. But it only made sense, the puddles of water were growing uncomfortably frequent and more than once we had to change direction because of a cave in or flooding. I wondered briefly of my mother and I desperately hoped she was safe because the Rains had not traveled down far enough yet, but I knew of her great strength and that calmed me.

I suddenly noticed that She was touching the rock face that we were leaning against. Her fingers stroked it carefully, tentatively. She frowned and abruptly dug Her nails into the surface. The rock crumbled and fell to the moist floor. I stared at it in amazement. I had heard of such a substance; dirt. But never had I seen it. The few plants that grew in my home were usually fungi or mosses that stuck on the solid rock or leached off of other plants. I reached out eagerly and dug at the rock as well and more of the dirt fell to my open palm. It was wet and grainy and it felt so strange to run it between my forefinger and thumb.

The bizarre mystery of dirt made me more fervent to get to the Surface and see what else it beheld. The closer we got, the more She lagged behind. Her hair was knotted then and horrible disheveled, Her fair skin turned a sickly grayish and She refused to touch any food I offered. Her once beautiful and graceful hands were covers in cuts and scraps and shook as they spoke to me.

Day, Day, we are so close. So close.

I nodded to Her. Her soft whisper didn’t accompany my name and that worried me most of all. As we scaled a particularly tall shoot, She clung to my legs. The Rain’s relentless wet attack was falling on us. The Rains had descended upon us several times before, always from a higher ledge. My hands were slick against the wet rock and I hesitated as She motioned jerkily at me.

Can you feel it? The beating?

We stopped on a small ledge and She couldn’t seem to catch Her breath. As She tried to compose herself, I tried to imagine what She was talking about. I could feel nothing in the rocks or the steady drips of soft water running down the walls. But the air, the air seemed to be almost throbbing, like a festering wound. I didn’t comprehend what it meant, but it felt like something amazing was about to happen. I didn’t know why She was upset by it. But we had to keep moving, the Rains would soon fill up this tunnel and we had to reach the Surface before then.

I lifted Her frail arms over my shoulders and picked Her up. Her body felt like nothing, hardly more than the clothes on my back. I didn’t focus of the constant worrying in the back of my head, but concentrated on the handholds in front of me. Right hand, left hand, right foot, left foot. My hand slid over something soft and slippery and I glanced up. I nearly fell right there.

Just over the ledge there seemed to be a huge mass of glo’ems, but it didn’t glow deep green as they usually did. They seemed to glow every color of the spectrum. I lifted myself up to see the strange occurrence clearly, but instead I found the World.

It was huge. I barely glanced at the millions of miles of infinite bright green stalks surrounding me. My mind barely registered that it was called grass or even that She had slipped from my shoulders. My eyes were glued to the otherworldly spectrum that was above me. A constant swirl of deep gray with black, more vibrant than anything I’ve ever seen. I could have been blinded by the sheer luminosity of it, but I heard a voice below me.

“Bring out the Sun. Call it from its hidden place. You need to, Day. You need to.”

I blinked and looked down at the drenched figure of Her. She looked so utterly broken and nearly translucent against the dynamic grass. I had never thought that she could speak and though her voice was soft, it was purposeful.

“Look.”

My eyes immediately search the sky again, never taking in enough to be satisfied. The swirl of dark colors began to change and slowly separate. I found my hands reaching up, vainly trying to grip away the hostile curtain. I didn’t feel the Rains ceasing. I didn’t hear her shuddering sigh. But I felt a great wave overcome me as I beheld the gentle rays peaking out from the dying tumult.

It was the Sun.

Beautiful, resolute, and brighter than I could ever imagine. The white light held every color imaginable and unimaginable. It filled my human eyes and burned my very soul. I could not speak or think; it was simply beyond me. In my euphoric state I could hardly feel Her soft hands touching my face.

“Day, you’re home.”

I think I was crying then, but the blazing heat around me dried my tears as quickly as they existed. I knew She wasn’t going to speak to me anymore, that Her silver hair would never drape perfectly over Her shoulder, Her complex hands would never feel the sharp, cool texture of the rocks, and Her body would never snake through the very womb She was born from.

And as I held the Sun in my outstretched arms, I held her memory.