Light of the Dark

by N. Saraven

  Then the air, or something, started to billow. It seemed to actually move in one direction, although without a fixed point to compare it to, it was difficult to tell. Its strong movements affected the standing Rita too, pulling and jerking her around. She almost fell one time, which frightened her, mostly because she could not see anything solid under her.

  She tried to put her foot down hard, taking a stable stand. On what? She had no clue, everything seemed to be the same grey, lighted nothingness, with those zigzagging flows all around. But it worked. She stared forwards and listened intently. She did not really know what was happening, so she let her instincts get into the driving seat, whispering what to do. As she concentrated more and more, the billowing something started to take the more recognisable forms of energy-flows. It seemed that she was standing between two huge rivers, which tossed her right or left, as if they were arguing about her. Or as if they could not work out to which one she belonged.

  Just like Rita herself …

  Suddenly, something caught her eye on the right. She tried to make the thing out, squinting at it to focus her eyes more. It looked like a painting of a beautiful forest, with a black tower in the middle. Rita gasped in surprise, weakening her concentration. As a result, the picture started to fade away, and the force pulling her to the left strengthened. It soon overpowered Rita, so she let everything go. She closed her eyes, tired, feeling that she was moving somewhere.

  Everything stopped abruptly. She just stood there, in the darkness. When she opened her eyes, she could not tell any difference in the pitch-black surroundings. She could hardly feel her … anything, for that matter. Her mind seemed to be completely detached from her body.

  Then there was a sound, followed by more and more, as she started to comprehend. Soon, she felt her body again, which apparently grabbed something, and she could feel that she was standing on a moving ground of some kind. She became aware of her muscles again, her limbs and skin, what bordered her from the surroundings. She took deep breaths from the air, which brought more and more noises to her ears. Slowly but surely she understood them.

  Suddenly she realised that she was shaking; something was clasping her shoulders painfully and shaking her whole body very firmly. It became too uncomfortable, so she opened her eyes.

  Rita saw her friend, Anna, in front of her. Worry mixed with fear shone in her eyes as her lips were moving. In the next second her voice broke into Rita’s sheltered mind.

  “Rita! Thank the gods, you awakened! What happened to you? You stared into nothing, like a dead body. And we depart here,” she gabbled quickly, but Rita could not comprehend half of it.

  She already felt the concrete under her feet when she finally understood what Indi said. She wobbled forwards, wondering when her knees would turn into jelly. The way they felt, it could happen any second.

  Rita sensed the firm grasp on her elbow as Anna led her to … Where are we going again? she mused. Overall, she felt so different, and not really in a good way. She heard things as if the words came through a thick fog of some kind. An old lady asked if they needed any help, but Anna dismissed her politely. Or at least, Rita thought that was happening. The whole thing reminded her of when she was really drunk. That felt similarly so out-of-body, not to mention confusing.

  Rita could hardly feel Anna’s hands around her as she helped her walk home. Her legs just did not work as they should. She could not remember the way either. Mostly she just stared forwards, sometimes moaning.

  When they finally arrived at the house, Anna rang the bell. Soon Balint and the two beautiful Golden Retrievers arrived at the gate. But Rita just stared at them, as if her mind was drifting around somewhere else. According to her senses, the other two talked about something, but she did not understand the muffled sounds. Meanwhile, they guided her forwards, maybe up some stairs, then lay her down. She now glared at some kind of white ceiling, still panting a little and feeling incredibly dizzy. Meanwhile the sounds moved away from her.

  Suddenly, everything turned back to what it should be. So abruptly, which became just as uncomfortable for a few seconds as the wobbly feeling before. Rita sat up frantically, holding her head as she gave a soft moan. Everything returned to be in order—her memories, her body, all functioning well again.

  She was stunned with amazement. She would never have thought that whatever she was experiencing could disappear so fast. Now she could hear perfectly the conversation between Indi and her father. The latter asked whether Anna wanted anything, but she refused and started for the street. When they left the house, the conversation faded beyond understanding. Rita could pick it up again when they arrived at the gate. Anna promised that she would visit tomorrow, then left. Her father jingled the keys a little more as he shut the gate, then he most probably headed back to the house.

  Rita lay down again and shut her eyes. She waited for her father to check up on her. She heard his footsteps on the stairs as he climbed. In the next moment, Balint entered again, so she steadied her breathing as she faked sleeping. She could hear him mumble something under his breath, felt his gentle touch on her cheek. After he could not do anything more, he left, reluctantly, from what she could tell. He probably got back to his work. The dogs followed him like shadows.

  After she was alone again, she immediately scrambled out of bed, heading straight to her bookshelves. Something drew her towards them, like metal to magnet. This feeling suggested to her that she would find the answers among the books. After that crazy day, she did not question her hunch, no matter how stupid it seemed. So she looked around the shelves filled with books she loved. All fantasy books. She read the titles carefully, waiting for the hunch to ‘say something’. When she arrived at a specific one, she caressed its back lovingly, then picked it up, the first of a trilogy.

  Rita just adored these novels, although she never thought they were the best. They could have used more polishing, in her opinion. The writing had many failures, and the story seemed a little childish. Yet Rita could forgive these mistakes, especially when she had learned that the author was seventeen—the same age as she was now—when she started these books. So yes, why would she not write about a ‘teenager’s make-believes’?

  Rita just adored the worlds and the protagonists in the story. She could not pinpoint why she became so hypnotised by them, but she was. Maybe because some words and their meanings were used in a very different way from the usual. Rita especially loved one of the mages, a half-kobold woman named Neila. In other stories she would be a half-elf, yet in this tale kobolds were just as pretty and perfect as elves or fairies. Rita admired and envied Neila and the worlds she lived in. She would have done anything in her power to meet her. Anything!

  Rita sadly realised how ridiculous this sounded. That world doesn’t exist. None of the three worlds. Nor Neila, or the others! she chided herself. As a response, the Feeling started to bubble up again with such strength that it frightened her greatly. Her heart started to throb wildly, her mind became completely filled by It. The happening lasted only for a few seconds, yet it felt that much more intensive. This made Rita wary. Something was clearly not right. She suddenly had the urge to touch the book again. As soon as she put her palm on the cover, it seemed that it wanted to pull her in.

  Rita dropped the book immediately; it landed with a loud thud on the parquet. Backing away, she just glared at it.

  She was completely stunned with surprise as she stared at the book. The air around her started to vibrate again, although it felt comforting and appealing this time, rather than dominant and scary. The book emitted it. It called to Rita, whispering in an unknown language, drawing her. She finally obeyed.

  Rita stepped forwards, which immediately broke the strange aura. She looked around, still baffled, as she groped with her hand. She poked the book then jerked her hand back, as if it wanted to bite. When it lay still, innocent enough, she gingerly picked it up again, not knowing exactly whether she was scared or rather curious. She had read this fiction m
any times since she bought it three years ago, and nothing close to this had ever happened.

  Then it struck her.

  This whole thing with the Feeling started three years ago, just after I became fond of Nimron and the other worlds …

  Rita’s gaze hardened. She had decided, even though she knew that if she picked up the book now there would be no return. But she wanted answers, answers which could only have been found in the novel.

  Rita grabbed the book with a steady hand, sat down on the bed, and started reading.

  6. The dream

  Rita closed the book with a deep sigh, then looked around absently. It was late, almost midnight. She put down the novel, a little frustrated, turned the light off, and tried to sleep. She had read through the weekend and would have liked to read just a little bit more, but tomorrow was Monday, which meant school and practice in the afternoon.

  Rita just shook her head dismissively on the pillow. As a coincidence to her name, she had a knack for archery. Currently she occupied first place in junior class. There would be a contest in a fortnight, so she should be concentrating on that. Especially since that could decide her future in the sport. If I am allowed to compete at all, she thought grumpily. Maybe she would not be. She had missed a couple of trainings lately, plus when she did go, she made a mess rather than achieved results.

  Not that it bothered her too much. Interestingly, it seemed to mean nothing if her sports career shattered. Her stomach did not shiver in excitement as before, nor did she feel any healthy nervousness crawling up on her.

  Only the Feeling filled her mind, which made her completely absent, sometimes during a motion even. It became very annoying when somebody yelled at her because she was standing still, gazing into nothing. And these things happened more and more in time.

  Rita did not know why everything happened the way it did. Maybe because she let the Feeling win, maybe because it did not conquer her completely yet. She wished that she could understand it more.

  She listened to and trusted her heart now, instead of her brain and reasoning. It seemed the logical choice, whether it made sense or not. Every time she let her hunches guide her, things turned out right in the end. In contrast, when she listened to her logic, trying to solve something with pure brainpower, the results were always bad.

  It was no mystery to her how whole companies could make a fortune from techniques that were designed to fool the brain and its logic. Because of this, Rita learned not to let her brain take over when something important was on the line. Intuition could never be fooled, if one listened carefully.

  Then Rita gave up thinking as she turned again for the hundredth time to her other side in a search for a comfortable pose. Starlight was long asleep at her feet, which filled Rita with pure envy. As she lay silently, she heard the noises of the night through her opened window—the neighbour’s dog barking, the sizzling of the leaves in the breeze. Everything felt calm and peaceful.

  Regardless, sleep completely eluded Rita. Even though she was exhausted, her mind stayed aware and created a train of thoughts about everything it could think of. Time flew by, and Rita lay still awake.

  One in the morning.

  Rita rubbed her eyes haggardly. She had not had such problems in the last couple of days, thus she did not understand why now. It would have seemed that rereading the strange book would help her find calmness. Apparently not. She gained some peace, but also some kind of restlessness struck her. As if someone or something constantly hovered over her, causing a chill to run up and down her spine. She could see nothing, of course, no matter how hard she tried.

  Finally Rita got fed up with the whole situation, so she scrambled out of bed. Tapping around with her feet she found her slippers, then went out to the balcony of her room. It was a warm autumn night, so the cold did not bother her at first. Leaning on the rails, she let her thoughts run wild as she glared at the stars. I wonder what kind of constellations are visible in Nimron’s sky? she mused, regarding the Ursa Major. Like an answer, her heart started pounding again, the air buzzing. She heard the strange crackling sound too.

  Suddenly the stars moved. Swirling in the sky, they created a shiny cone. Rita immediately grabbed the rails as she gazed at the phenomenon. The shiny points whooshed faster and faster until they became one, huge whirl. The wind also took off, so Rita grasped the rails even harder. She sensed the energy-flows around her, that tingly feeling when she struck a nerve, mixed with numbness. With a little concentration, she could spot the flows with her eyes too. A little later, they began to form two immense rivers, wildly flowing and whirling beside each other. Sometimes they collided, and in that point a faint picture appeared, which immediately disappeared when the rivers parted.

  Rita suddenly realised that she stood in one of the rivers. She could not move; something held her in place. Not that she really tried to move, in her astonishment. Abruptly, the two rivers crashed right in front of her, making her wince. The landscape appeared again, like a large painting hanging in mid-air. She stared at it curiously, then forgetting everything else, she stepped forwards. Moving seemed surprisingly difficult, like running in water. She fought for every step nonetheless, relentless as ever.

  Slowly but surely she managed to get to the huge picture. Up close it seemed more like an enormous window, through which Rita could easily go further if she decided to. Although the ‘window’ obviously hovered high above, so maybe it would not be wise.

  Beyond it lay the same landscape that she saw before on the bus. The sunny forest with the black tower, which now seemed equally scary and inviting. Rita gasped at its beauty, open-mouthed. She almost involuntarily stepped forwards again, just to get closer to the gorgeous building, but then she jerked herself back. It suddenly struck her that she stood at the very rim of her own river, which meant that if she did move, it could possibly mean the last step as well. A fall from that height would definitely not be healthy …

  Rita managed to restrain herself and just stood, completely mesmerised at the very edge of the ‘window’. The building had one main tower, which held several little ones at its top half. Balconies were attached to these, but many different-sized windows looked in every direction possible alongside the column of the structure. Overall, it seemed as if the tower emerged or was carved from one gigantic black stone of some kind. It sparkled lively in the sunshine.

  Rita inhaled deeply, seeing such wonder. Then the closest balcony to her caught her eye—more like the double-doored entrance because light emitted from the room behind it. The involuntary thought popped into Rita’s mind: What would the host say if I would ‘magically’ appear on their balcony? Then curiosity took over her fears. She now wanted to know more.

  As if responding to her playful musing, her window suddenly teleported just above the black rail of the balcony. Rita gave a small cry when this happened. She was completely caught by surprise with the frantic movement. Furthermore, she now hovered precisely above the rail of the balcony. She would only need a little jump to actually arrive on the balcony.

  Rita hesitated, then curiosity took over again. Something deep inside her whispered that everything would be all right. She need not be afraid. So she leaned forwards a little, trying to get a glimpse inside the glass entrance.

  Two people occupied the room, both showing their backs to her. They seemed somehow tense as they stiffly stood there like statues, as if they were sensing something peculiar and now wanted to find it by concentrating intensely.

  What if they sense my coming? Rita asked herself as she turned pale. She took a step back, uneasy of the situation, which made the rivers shiver around her. As a result, one of the hosts turned, then grabbed the other one’s arm, which made that person swirl around as well.

  When their gazes met, Rita froze in place. She felt as if she were struck by lightning. She could not give a sound, only gasp and pant fast. She could not turn away from the others either, so she watched as the they carefully strolled to the balcony.


  Rita recognised both of them!

  The woman with a golden iris … her clothes, which looked like deerskin, and her long brown hair …

  But … this cannot be! They don’t exist! screamed Rita’s mind, but then she glanced at the other person.

  He could not be missed—with that piercing steel-blue gaze, which now was fixating on her, the platinum-blond hair, and the pitch-black clothing, not to mention the pointed ears …

  “It cannot be …!” Rita exhaled sharply in what sounded more like a faint whinge. She could not believe her eyes, although everything seemed real. “Neila …” she managed to whisper just loud enough for the others to hear.

  The woman halted for a short moment, then stepped to the rail even more determined. Her gaze was fixed on Rita. The elven stayed right on her heels, now saying something. Maybe a word of caution. Curiosity mixed with a little fear shone in the golden eyes.

  Then she asked something from Rita, who just blinked blankly. Naturally, she did not understand a word. Seeing Rita’s helpless gaze, Neila turned to Halgor, and they started to discuss something in a hushed tone.

  Rita waited, utterly confused about everything. Especially since apparently the other two knew or could do the same amount about the situation as her—nothing. Fear took hold of Rita’s heart, seeing the mages so unsure. She started to shiver as the fear slowly escalated to panic. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. It would be useless; the others would not understand her any more than she them.

  Finally, Neila looked at her again and held out her hand. Her motion was obviously an inviting one, yet Rita winced and stepped back a little. She became more and more lost in the happenings, not to mention confused, nervous, and terribly exhausted. She hesitated to accept the invitation. What if I cannot go back anymore? she asked herself. As soon as doubt arose, a pulling force strengthened. Rita could do nothing against it; she was too tired and uncertain.

  The passageway started to tremble. Neila motioned hurriedly at Rita again, but she had almost no strength left. Rita tried to reach the mage’s hand with a desperate move. Only their fingers could touch for a brief moment, creating a white glare, before the pulling force jerked Rita away. The gateway closed without a trace.