Sunlight and Shadow

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by Cameron Dokey


  “I’m trying to give you a gift,” Tern said. “The greatest I have to bestow. Will you not take it? Will you not be my friend, and Minas, rather than our enemy?”

  Statos took a breath. But before he could speak, Gayna broke in.

  “Take it,” she said. “Take it, Statos.” And it was she, rather than Mina, who stepped to Tern’s side. “All your life you have lived by the rules of another. Worked so that his dreams, his desires, might be given life, even the desire to make the Lady Mina your wife.

  “You told me once that you had always been free to choose. Now you stand in the place to which all your choices have brought you. You are betrayed and alone. Why should you reject such a rich gift? Take it, and learn what your own heart holds.”

  “You would have me take this gift, then,” Statos said.

  “I would,” Gayna answered.

  “And if it tells me that I should leave?”

  “Then go. Look forward, not back.”

  “Would you wait for me?” asked Statos.

  This was the moment I discovered I was holding my breath, had been holding it, in fact, from the time that Gayna first stepped forward.

  “No, I would not,” Gayna answered softly. “For I, too, am done with living my life according to the desires of one who does not love me. Instead, I will stay, and see if my heart holds what I think it might.”

  And with that, she looked straight at me, and I felt my heart roll over once.

  “You would have me be alone, then?” Statos asked.

  “Well, of course I would,” Gayna answered, as if she thought he was downright silly. “But only for the time it takes to know yourself. How long a time that ends up being is up to you, I think.”

  At this, Statos looked Tern full in the face, and, for the first time, it was with no anger coloring his own.

  “I will accept your gift with thanks,” he said, “and wish you and the Lady Mina much joy together”

  And so, Tern handed him the flute and Statos accepted it. Then he bowed, and turned as if to go. At that moment, I heard a rush and sweep of wings. That is the nightingale, I thought. But, instead of settling upon my shoulder, she settled upon Statos’s. She ruffled her feathers once, twice, as if accustoming herself to this new perch, then opened her beak, and poured forth her song.

  Never had I heard her sing a song so beautiful. But the most astonishing thing was yet to come. For, no sooner had she finished, than Statos put the flute to his lips and let the notes fly forth. And the song he played was so lovely, yet so sad, that all eyes were filled with tears when he had done.

  Then the nightingale flew from his shoulder, singing as she went, and, as if spellbound, Statos followed, wrapping his own song around the nightingales notes. They may be traveling together still, for all I know. For with his departure, he leaves this story forever, and where he is now or what became of him, I do not know.

  Though I hope he’s happy, don’t you?

  Finale

  Come close, and I will finish a story, for the end is very near, now. Tern and I were married that very night, by the light of the full moon, while my father’s retainers and my mother’s danced together on the ground, and the stars turned reels in the overhanging sky.

  The revels ended just at dawn. For then, as they had for untold years, my parents prepared to part company. But, before this could happen, I had my own gift to give. One I had discussed beforehand with Lapin, for it required his blessing.

  “You are sure?” I asked.

  “I am,” he replied, and he had Gayna at his side. “We may not be quite as sudden in our love as you and Tern are, but then we are small folk, not great ones.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Gayna said.

  At which Lapin laughed. “Have I ever mentioned that my middle name is Robert?”

  “Why should you wish to be called anything other than what you are?” Gayna inquired.

  “That’s it,” Lapin said. “Now I’m sure it’s love.”

  And so, as the musicians at last fell silent, and the tired dancers sat upon the ground, I went to stand in the center of my father’s sacred grove and called my parents to stand by my side.

  “Mother, Queen of the Night,” I said, “and Mage of the Day, my father, I have a gift for you, if you will accept it. But only if you both agree, for it must belong to both of you, or to neither.”

  “She sounds just like you,” my mother observed.

  “She does not,” my father protested. “I’m nowhere near that pompous and stuffy.”

  “You think not?” my mother asked, and I could see the way her eyes danced with laughter in the thinning dark.

  “Do you suppose I might speak for just a moment?” I inquired. “I’ like to get this done before the sun comes up. The timing of this is sort of important.”

  “I apologize, Mina,” my mother said. “Please, go on. And of course I accept your gift, even if it means I must share it with your father.”

  “Anything your mother can do, I can do,” declared the Lord Sarastro.

  I sincerely hope this works, I thought. And I held out Lapin’s bells.

  “You know the history of these bells,” I said. “But I think they have a future, also. In order for it to be fulfilled, you each must answer the same question: Do you love each other?”

  Not a soul stirred in the clearing as we waited for my parents to answer. “Speak from your hearts,” I charged. “Anything less doesn’t count, and not only that, it will bring about disaster.”

  “Then from my heart, I answer this,” said the Lord Sarastro. “That though I do not always understand her, I do truly love your mother.”

  “And I say this,” my mother replied. “That I love your father, though he has wronged me. And because I love truly, I forgive those wrongs.”

  “Then these belong to you,” I said. “To both of you, equally, to share and share alike. To the Lord Sarastro in the day, and to Pamina, die Königin der Nacht, in the dark.

  “Each day as the sun sets, Father, you must give them to my mother. And each day as the sun rises, Mother, you must give them to my father. Let the rising and setting of the sun be a time of coming together, not of dividing. Play the bells, and let all creation hear the music of your hearts, for you have hidden it away for far too long.”

  “Actually, I think you’re right. She does sound like me,” my father said.

  My mother laughed and took the bells from my arms. She had time to sound just one note, but it was a note of such incredible beauty and joy that it caused the sun to leap straight up over the horizon. Then my mother turned and gave the bells to my father.

  “I will be interested to hear the song you play,” she said.

  And now my father laughed in his turn. “And so will I.”

  Then he began to play, and at this, the full glory of the world burst forth. For, in that moment, the hopes of the powers that watch over the universe were fulfilled, and the world was discovered to be much more than a mountain, albeit a very tall one, but an entire globe, spinning in the sky.

  And with this discovery, day and night no longer warred with one another. For, in its new shape, the world could never be all one thing or all the other. The night that I was married is the time night and day began to live side by side in the world, a circumstance with which you are familiar, for it has existed ever since that time.

  In time, the music my parents play came to be known as the music of the spheres. It may still be called this, for all I know. For they are still playing. They will play until the last gasp of the universe itself. You can hear them for yourself, if your heart knows how to listen.

  And as for me and Tern, we did not settle in just one place, but decided to spend our days wandering through the new world which had just been born. Naturally we stop to see both his family and mine upon our travels, at holiday and birthday time, as often as can be managed.

  But I think the truth is that neither Tern nor I needs a fixed place, as other people do, for the tr
ue place of each is in the heart of the other. That will be true for as long as our hearts beat and maybe even longer. I don’t yet know.

  So here, I think, is where the story ends. Or at least the portion of it I am able to tell you.

  Author’s notes

  This story was inspired by my favorite opera: Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte. The Magic Flute. That’s right. I said opera. Not only that, I said I liked it. Why do you think they put author notes at the end of the book and not the beginning, if not to avoid scaring readers off entirely?

  Seriously, though. You ought to try it. Opera is so fantastical, so much bigger than life. It’s not all overweight sopranos marching around in weird costumes that always seem to involve helmets with great curved horns sticking out of the top. And Die Zauherflote is a great place to start.

  There’s even a film version by the great Swedish filmmaker Ingmar Bergman, which is one of my favorite movies on the entire planet. In fact, it was Bergman, not Mozart, who first created a husband and wife relationship for Sarastro and the Queen of the Night. It seems just right, though. What has always appealed to me about this story is its combination of whimsy and distress. Of sunlight and shadow. Yes, this would explain my title. I’m also drawn to the notion that, to truly win what your heart desires, you must conquer your own fears. In our own ways, we all face trials.

  I’ve definitely reshaped some elements to fit my world view, rather than Mozart’s. The truth is, men didn’t think much of women, or at least not of their brains, in Mozart’s time. In the original trials, Tern (named Tamino in the opera) is steadfast and brave, and Pamina mostly tags along. And the character of Statos (Monostatos, in the opera) is strictly a bad guy for no other reason than that he’s a Moor. So there’s definitely some misogyny and racism going on. All the more reason to have a fresh look at the material, I say.

  Thanks for reading. I hope you had as good a time as I did writing.

  Cameron Dokey is the author of nearly thirty young people’s titles. Sort of like birthdays, she’s stopped counting. Her other fairy tales include The Storyteller’s Daughter and Beauty Sleep. Her most recent Simon Pulse release is the romantic comedy How Not to Spend Your Senior Year.

  When she’s not at her desk, you can find Cameron in the kitchen creating some carbohydrate the likes of which Dr. Atkins would definitely not approve, or out working in the garden. She lives in Seattle, Washington, with four cats and one husband.

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