When Darkness Begins

by Tina O’Hailey

  Then he was falling. In a blink, he disappeared. He needed a better position to save her from the fall. She had looked into his eyes as they had been falling, and he realized if he did this, removed himself from time and then inserted himself back again to save her from this fall, he would have to tell her the truth about his existence.

  He had kept his true nature from her. She had seen his mouth frown as he had realized his time with her was over. He would have to tell her he was a Vechey and not a Linear and would have to explain the concept of what a Linear was.

  She would either accept him or reject him. The moment he had avoided had arrived. He had disappeared and left her hanging there in space, falling, crashing towards the porch. The stupid cat had fled the scene, his manipulation done.

  Alexander paused. How could a cat be in his time, 10,000 years before main-time and thousands of years before cats even came to this continent? Could a Manipulator have possessed the cat? Manipulators cannot travel through time. What brought it here and now? Or was it just chance? Were there others besides the Vechey and the Manipulators? Flustered, he brushed the thought away.

  He had disappeared from their falling tangle of limbs, slipped into his frozen-time and saw the ghostly image of himself and her on the porch together, a passionate entanglement. Then standing. Then falling. Then he had disappeared.

  She hung frozen in time, hanging in midair, eyes wide with surprise. He looked at her. His love. His Linear. Not the first time he had fallen in love with a Linear. Not the last time, he surmised, given his nearly eternal life.

  The shame of it.

  Knowing he would have to bare his soul to her when he synced back with time to catch her and keep her from falling to the porch, he had searched about trying to think of a gesture of love to give her. Flowers seemed to be too small. She was a practical person. An overage of floral arrangements would not soften the blow of delivering his story.

  He turned from her ghostly face of shock. How to explain who he was, what he was to her? Why did he care? Alexander turned back to her face, because no matter how short his time with her—he loved her.

  A thought occurred to him. She once spoke of the relaxation of soaking in a bubble bath. She said it was the one thing she missed most about her home and her time.

  So here he stood, creating a bathroom with a marble floor and claw-foot tub and a bedroom that looked over the valley. If she hated him when she heard the truth about him, so be it. She would stay here in luxury until she healed enough to return to her time.

  There she would die.

  There the Manipulator would take her from Alexander. He touched the marble, stacked and waiting for installation, cold and smooth.

  Once finished, he would sync back to time and catch her. Then he would tell her the truth about his existence. The syncing would be problematic and stressful. He had held her in his arms. He would need to sync back into time and not collide with himself or her. The moon had not been full, so his vision of time would not be as clear as if it was a full moon. It would be tricky.

  Alexander touched the missing divot of his pinky finger and knew all too well the results of a syncing collision.

  10 KEEP AWAY

  The sun had set hours ago. Eterili sat near the circle, ignoring the comings and goings of the younger children. They ran and jostled. Called out and hollered. Fell. Ran. Jumped. They did everything but sit silent and still.

  As their activities brought them closer to Eterili they realized their proximity, perhaps warned off by her smell or her glaring eye, and promptly redirected their momentum away from her and kept up their jubilations.

  The adolescent children, nearing ritual age, strolled across the ruckus trying to avoid the tumbling tangles of energy that were the younger children. Aithagg and his group were a year from their ritual age, fifteen.

  Aithagg turned to Catha and whispered, “Can we talk?” He secretly handed an apple to her.

  She hid the apple behind her skirt and eyed him suspiciously, then looked to Otski and Ygolz. They were busy discussing their latest feed, each one attempting to outdo the other’s bravery.

  “I was almost caught. I did not notice the spouse walking through the camp. He came into the tent and there I was,” Otski said.

  “Did you sync away in time? I froze once and couldn’t move,” Ygolz admitted in a rare moment of honesty. Remembering himself he added, “I wasn’t seen though. Just before the Linear awoke, I synced away. I remembered to close the wound too before I left.” Ygolz rubbed at his nose and looked down at the ground. “It did give me a scare though. I thought I was caught.”

  Catha leaned close to Aithagg and met his eye. She flicked her eye behind them, indicating for him to follow. Together they left the circle and the fire there. Finding secrecy in the shadows of a nearby tree they sat and leaned back against the rough bark. Their shoulders touched, and they sat together for a moment watching the tribe in front of them illuminated by the fire.

  None of the group seemed to notice the two as they slunk to the shadows. The group continued to mill about cavorting and carrying on.

  Aithagg picked at a stray piece of rawhide on his clothing. “We have to figure out a way to get you through the ritual.” His voice was a whisper. He kept his eyes focused on the ground in front of him.

  Catha pursed her lips tightly and sunk slightly before answering, “My parents talk of the others that did not make it. They think I can’t hear them. But I do.”

  She looked to Aithagg. He met her gaze and held it.

  “I have brothers and sisters who have not survived the ritual as well,” he empathized.

  “Not as many, I will bet.” Catha dropped her gaze and continued, “so many of my brothers and sisters did not survive the ritual. They never could see through time.”

  “How many?” Aithagg touched her hand, a brief comforting touch.

  “Fifty.”

  They both sat in silence neither wanting to expound on the fearful number any further.

  Final Aithagg added, “I see.” He paused then continued, “but not all.” He squeezed her hand. “At least more than half made it through the ritual, right?”

  “I suppose,” Catha answered. “At least half made it through. The others disappeared into time and became Linears or,” her voice trailed off then she whispered, “I don’t know which is worse: being a Linear or dying.”

  Aithagg took her hand and held it tightly. “We need to come up with a plan. What if we snuck to the ritual site when the next group goes?” He turned to her, his eyes glittering with hope. “We could see the ritual and figure out an advantage for you—a way you can make it through the ritual even without.” He paused not wanting to speak the truth.

  “Go ahead, say it.” Her words were sharper than she intended. Softening she completed his sentence, “Even without seeing time. It is a nice gesture, but how are we going to sneak to a place with everyone able to see through time? They’ll see us and stop us. Do you know how difficult it is to get away with anything around here?”

  Aithagg smirked. Having parents able to see through time made being a mischievous child very difficult.

  They sat and considered options in silence. The darkness spread between them like a grim weight.

  “I hate the way my mother looks at me,” Catha said. “She looks at me as if I’m already dead or a Linear.”

  Aithagg leaned against her shoulder. “It must be hard to have lost so many over the years.”

  “My older brothers seem to fair better. I think they already saw through time by my age.” Catha leaned back against Aithagg, leaning into his warmth. “I could just go away in the day. Wait for no moon here and a sunrise in main-t
ime. Even you can’t see through that.”

  “You are not wrong,” Aithagg whispered and shifted to place his arm around Catha. She allowed it and pulled his arm closer.

  “I’ll just go and it will be easier on everyone.” Her voice was resolute.

  “Not easier on me.” Aithagg ventured to kiss the top of her head.

  Neither moved nor dared to speak any further. They watched the tribe in front of them carrying on with their evening activities as if the world was not ending. The children ran about the fire. The elders sat and spoke in low whispers. The adolescents, preparing for the upcoming ritual, tried to look unafraid. Their Shaman, Eterili, seemed to see all as she scanned the group in the dark.

  Across the distance, Eterili’s eyes lit upon the two huddled under the tree. They both straightened guiltily as if caught in a forbidden act. Aithagg removed his arm from around Catha’s shoulders and brought his knees up to his chest. He laughed quietly to himself then whispered into his shoulder lest an elder read his lips, “Eterili, but she gives me the creeps.”

  They giggled together and then broke apart, making their way back to the campfire. As the two youths took their place in the warm fire’s glow, they overheard fragments of conversations as various elders told tales to the children.

  “…and before the sun could rise the wolf disappeared without a trace. Until this day you can still hear him howl as he looks for his next victim. Awooooooo.” The elder lurched towards the children with his wolf’s growl and they squealed in horrific delight.

  No further talks of running away, finding a way to get around the ritual, or the plight of becoming a Linear filled the silence between them. Aithagg and Catha sat near each other quietly and eventually made their goodbyes as the evening slipped away and the sun threatened to rise.

  ***

  Catha walked alone to her room. In their confined quarters, her parents’ voices echoed.

  “After the ritual, we’ll go back to our home and things will get back to normal,” her father’s low voice grumbled.

  “I can’t go there anymore. To the fire.” Her mother’s sob filled the air. “I can’t see them all—there.”

  Catha walked quietly hoping they would not hear her steps. She nearly ran to get by the passage to their room, her bare feet scraping on the cold rock floor.

  She was undetected and collapsed into her domed room as soon she approached it. Tears did not fall from her eyes. She had cried her fill. Catha had no emotions left to give a loveless family who already saw her as dead.

  She arranged her sparse belongings and silently calculated what she should take with her if she left the tribe. Absently she ate the apple Aithagg had brought her.

  Catha was oblivious to dawn breaking. All else in the sprawling cave were quietly lulled into slumber by the pull of the sun as it rose. They would disappear and shift through time as they slept. Catha would simply lie on her soft pile of furs and sleep. She would not shift through time. She would not be pulled by the sun. She would only be trapped with time as it moved forward. Tears spring to her eyes.

  A Linear. She was a Linear. She shivered in the cold and pulled the furs further around her. Hunger gripped her thin body in a tight fist.

  ***

  After the sun set, Catha rose and found Aithagg walking the hallway outside of her cold, stone room.

  “What are you doing here?” Catha asked.

  “I’ve been up all day thinking about it. I think I have it figured out.” Aithagg grabbed her hand and led her towards the opening of the cave. The cold darkness was pleasant and the warmer air of the evening pressed against their skin as they exited into the night air.

  “What?” Catha asked but Aithagg cut her off.

  “Not here. Wait.”

  Just then Otski and Ygolz ran out of the cave with a handful of younger children in tow.

  “Give that back!” one of the younger boys shouted.

  Otski threw a small, carved Mastodon tooth to Ygolz in an elaborate game of keep away.

  “No fair,” a youngster cried as he tried in vain to pluck the tooth from Otski’s hands.

  Otski feigned to the right so the youngster jumped right to intercept then Otski jumped to the left and threw the tooth further off into the woods. Laughing he called out to Aithagg, “Did you see that?”

  Aithagg gave Otski a withering glare then stepped off into the direction of the tossed tooth. He returned within moments. He brushed the mud off the tooth displaying the carved symbols of the Eg’den clan: four wavy lines and a circle. He handed the soiled tooth to the thankful youngster.

  “Spoil sport,” Otski called out.

  Aithagg looked at the youth softly, tousled his hair and said, “Go on now to eat. Make sure you have washed your hands. And that tooth. Your mother will have your teeth if you lose your clan’s crest. It is not a plaything.”

  They watched the children run up the trail and disappear. Aithagg turned to Catha. “Come on. Let us go feed and then I will tell you what I have come up…”

  He was interrupted by his parents appeared behind them.

  “Are you going to help me strip the bark from the tree today?” Iskeho asked, a sly smile on his face.

  Aithagg’s face turned red and after a moment he answered, “I have other plans today, Father.” He dared to glance at Catha. “If you leave it, I will get to it later. Promise.”

  Iskeho looked from Catha to Aithagg and then to Kei-tha. He smiled and cajoled, “I suppose I could be talked into staying near the camp and helping your mother with her beadwork and carving. She needs to finish the crest for your ritual, which will be here next year, before we know it.”

  Kei-tha snorted and shooed Iskeho away with a dismissive hand. “I do not want you underfoot. Surely you can help hunt game for the younger Vechey or something equally not in my way.”

  Iskeho held a small leather bag out for Aithagg. “Take this extra oil for your lamp. Come back well before dinner. You will be expected at the circle tonight for the parting.”

  “I will.” Aithagg smiled at Catha. “We will.”

  The two walked away from the cave’s entrance and down a secluded path. The parents watched them leave.

  Kei-tha touched Iskeho’s shoulder gently. “She isn’t developing the traits. He is destined for heartbreak.”

  Iskeho patted her hand and held it to his chest. “He has to choose his path. The young know everything and think we know nothing.” He kissed Kei-tha’s cheek and added, “Were we not the same, those thousands of years ago when we ran through these same woods as we prepared for our ritual?”

  “He is going to pronounce her and they will be bound. Then…” Kei-tha worried the stone in her pocket and did not finish the thought.

  “We do not know that she will not survive the ritual,” Iskeho whispered.

  “So many of that line do not. He has to know. Aithagg cannot be bound to her. We have to prevent it.” Kei-tha looked after the two who had disappeared from sight.

  “You know that it would do no good.” Iskeho tugged at Kei-tha’s hand and led her towards the circle where the others were busy with the night’s tasks.

  He did not glance behind him though his heart longed to. Instead, he walked with his wife of twenty-seven thousand years and looked at the misty ghost memories swirling around them. It was haunting how crowded the air was with the thousands of visits they had made to this cave as a people. He saw himself as a youth, a teen, with Kei-tha, them after they had bonded, and them here with every offspring. The weight of so much time was oppressive at moments and he yearned to not see so much, to not remember so much, to find release from this burden. Such was not the
way, and he turned back to his wife. “I can help you with the beads. I do a fine job.”

  “You will complain the whole time. But sit with me and we will enjoy the night.”

  ***

  The teens walked further away from the group and turned to make sure they were out of earshot.

  “Look, I plan on leaving when the sun rises and going to the nearby tribe of Linears. They will take me in.” Catha lifted a bag under her shawl and showed it to Aithagg. “I’ve already packed.”

  Aithagg paused and then said, “I have come up with a way. You may not see through time, but you can move through it slightly. You are not a Linear,” he emphasized the word.

  Catha seemed to shrink at the word Linear. “I am barely more than a Linear. I cannot feed. I can not see time.” She drooped. “I can move through time, yes, a little. But what good is that if I cannot see where I am going. Useless. That is what it is.”

  Aithagg interrupted her, “What if I go there and mark a safe place where you can sync to and not collide? It would not be that hard at all.” His words came quickly, urgently. “I will go to just after the ritual and take care to stay close to somewhere where one of the others stands. That way, my ghost image won’t be seen. Just like when we used to play hide and seek. I will watch for a place where no one walks—where nothing moves and put a marker of some type. I think a circle of stones that you can see.”

  Catha started to interrupt him and he held up a hand.

  “I will come back to this time and place a circle of stones. You may have to take small jumps to get there. Then you can get to the ritual site without fear of colliding with the—the thousands that have been there before.”

  “Listen to yourself. Thousands. Do you know how many have gone through the ritual throughout time? They all go to that site to do whatever the ritual is.” Catha put the strap of her bag over her shoulder and hefted its weight with a stern shrug. “I have decided. I do not need you to save me. I will protect my family from the pain of facing me any longer and take my place as a Linear.”