A Light in Darkness

As I looked out onto the vast blue ocean, I could almost imagine swimming in the waves. I could feel the water running down my skin. I could see the beautiful fish and the coral reef. I could hear the water washing up on the sand. I could taste the salt in the water. But, when I opened my eyes, I knew it was only that: my imagination. Because when I opened my eyes, I saw the world for what it truly was: ice. Nothing but ice. 

“Ember, come here. It’s getting late,” Mama called from the hut. I sighed in the wind. It was the warmest it had been in days, and I was tired of staying near the hut. Still, I knew better than to argue with my Mama. She was as much a force of nature as the snow and ice that had plagued our existence for the past seven years. 

“Coming,” I replied and started back home, trudging through the snow. On my way, I was greeted by my little brother and sister, Orion and Aurora. Both of them were bundled up, as I was, against the cold. They were bundled up so well that I could hardly see Aurora’s blonde hair or Orion’s blue eyes, and I winced. They had never known the warmth of the burning sun or the sound of the waves, only the flame of the fire and grating of ice. 

“Ember,” Orion shrieked. “Come and play.” I smiled through my mask and knelt next to them in the snow, trying to ignore the bitter wind. 

“Are we making a snowman,” I questioned, and I could see the smiles in their eyes. 

“Yes,” they cried, so we got to work, rolling the snow and ice. Though, when we were done and stood back to admire our handiwork, it hardly looked like a snowman. We had no carrots or coal to spare for the face. Our creation was more of just three spheres stacked on top of each other, but my siblings and I knew what we had made. For them, that was good enough. 

“Oh, did my lovelies make another snowman,” Mama asked when we finally made it into the hut. Aurora nodded as Orion shrieked in response. He was only five and thought everyone should hear him. Aurora was the opposite of Orion and two years older. When she did speak, we could hardly hear. Instead, she would just sit by the fire with her hands outstretched as if trying to coax the flames. 

At supper, we crowded around the fire and ate whatever Papa had found when he was hunting. It wasn’t much, about one rabbit for the five of us, but it was enough; we made do. I couldn’t help but remember a time when we feasted at supper. Papa would bring a fresh hunt, and Mama would season it with herbs we had in the garden. I sighed, my mouth watering at the thought. Now, our meager meals were topped with nothing but the salt left from the ocean water. 

At last, the sun set on the horizon, and we all curled up on the mat by the fire to sleep. Well, most of us did. 

“Just one story,” Orion begged. “The story.” Mama looked held out her arms, and my brother crawled into her lap. 

“Once upon a time,” she began, “the world was bright and filled with color. The sun shone every day, glistening off the clear waters. This land was filled with all creatures imaginable, and they roamed free in the forest and under the waves.” I smiled at the memory, at a time when the world wasn’t a sheet of white. I could picture perfectly the forests and the animals running through them. But, a memory was all it was. 

“Then what, Mama,” Orion whispered. 

“Then, a wind howled from the north,” she continued, making a whooshing sound, “and that wind took it all away. First, the sun began to fade. Then, the trees began to die and the animals with them. Next, the sea became nothing but a sheet of ice, and the snow wouldn’t cease its falling.”

“But, we must have faith that one day, a star will come and chase away that bitter wind,” Papa finished in his gruff voice. “We must believe that one day, the sun will return and bring back the trees and the animals. We must hope that one day, we can once again swim in the sea.” 

“I want to swim in the ocean, Mama. I want to feel the sunshine,” my brother declared.

“And one day you will, my darling,” Mama replied. Orion looked up to her, and I knew she tried to comfort him, but I knew the cold, hard truth. The sun would never return, and our world would forever be nothing but ice. Still, when Aurora looked up from the fire, I tried to give her the same reassuring smile as Mama. My sister just nodded and continued to stare at the flames, completely mesmerized. 

With the story finished, Mama coaxed Orion to sleep and lay down on the mat with Papa. The rest of us followed suit with even Aurora grudgingly pulling away from the blaze. As sleep took me, I thought of nothing but the warmth of the sun, and though I knew it was foolish, I hoped for its return. 

+++

The next morning, the whole village gathered around the big bonfire in the center of town to pray for the return of the sun and the elimination of the snow. I chanted along with them, but my words were empty. I knew better than to get my hopes up. When the snow had first come, I would spend hours by the bonfire, shouting and praying, and every time, I expected the snow to just disappear. But it never did. Now, five years later, I didn’t think the frozen wind would ever leave. 

“Oh, spirits, we beg your forgiveness,” Alexander, the village leader, cried to the heavens. “We have learned the error of our ways, and we humbly ask that you chase away the northern wind.” In response, the wind only blew harder. I cast a look at my family as we huddled near the flames, Aurora just staring into the fire. I bit my lip and thought about the days to come. We all knew sooner or later there would be no food left. The fisherman and hunters were coming up with less meat every day, and the vegetables and herbs had died a long time ago. As I looked at my family, I knew that I would do whatever it took for them to survive.

After the service, everyone headed home. Orion had already begun to fallen asleep, so Mama took him in for a nap as Papa went out to hunt. I was tempted to follow, but Mama needed my help around the house. After about ten minutes of boiling water and prepping for whatever meat Papa found, I headed out in the snow where my sister was already sitting. 

“Aurora, you should come inside. You’ve been out here for quite a while,” I coaxed, but she shook her head.

“I’m not cold,” she muttered, and I laughed. 

“You’re not even wearing your coat, Aurora. Of course, you’re cold.” Even I was cold, and I was dressed in full gear. Aurora’s wool sleeves were rolled up, and her shoulders were covered in snow even though no flakes fell from the sky. 

“Well, I’m not, Ember.” I knelt in the snow and put my arm around my sister, finding her bare skin still warm. I jerked back.

“How are you not cold,” I demanded. She looked away from me and coughed. For a second, a split second, her throat glowed, and I saw still burning embers float to the ground. I scrambled back.

“What was that,” I questioned. She looked up, her eyes widened with fear.

“You can’t tell anyone,” she ordered with a shaky voice.

“Aurora, what was that,” I repeated, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Aurora?” She didn’t even look up, and then it hit me like the wind slapping my face. 

“You can’t tell anyone,” she said again. 

“It’s you, isn’t it,” I asked. “You’re the Star that’s going to chase the snow away.”

“No, I’m not,” she snapped, but I knew she was lying. “I don’t want to be.”

“But, Aurora—" My sister just looked up to the bleak, grey sky, tears starting to fall from her eyes.

“No one knows what will happen to the star when it’s done,” she muttered. “No one knows what will happen when the wind is chased away.” 

“Aurora.”

“I don’t want to die.” When she whispered it, my heart broke. She was right; no one knew what happened when the wind was gone. No one knew what would happen to the star, but I knew I couldn’t bear to lose my sister. 

“I won’t let that happen to you,” I vowed, and she looked to me, her eyes still wide. “I promise, Aurora. No one is going to hurt you.” She just bit her lip and nodded. She was so young, too young. Aurora would not face that fate. Not while I had something to say about it. 

+++

Two days later, our world completely fell apart. It was a relatively warm day, and Orion had gone fishing with Papa. Aurora, Mama, and I were preparing the fire for their return with fish. Aurora’s eyes still remained fixated on the flames, and I couldn’t help but remember the way her throat glowed and the embers. If she is the star, then perhaps she has the blaze of one, I thought. It would explain her fascination with fire. I’d caught her with her fingers ablaze once or twice. 

 “Noelle,” Papa’s voice cried, shaking me from my thoughts, and the sound was filled with such anguish that it sent shivers down my spine. Mama didn’t waste a single second. She hurried out of the hut to meet Papa, and Aurora and I went after her. The sight that awaited me was not something I was prepared for. 

Orion lay shivering in Papa’s arms, his lips blue and his clothes soaking wet. Beside me, I could hear Aurora starting to sob as I just stared in disbelief. 

“Get him inside. We need to get him warm,” Mama ordered, but even her voice was shaking. No, no, no, I thought numbly. Please not him, not Orion. I knew the signs. I had seen them before on a friend, and that friend was buried six feet under the snow. 

Aurora hurried inside to stoke the fire as Mama and Papa carried my baby brother into the hut. I could hardly move. I knew I should, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything but watch the scene unfold. It wasn’t until Aurora dragged me inside that I remembered the cold. I spread my hands over the fire and looked to where Mama was tending to Orion, placing blankets on him and removing his wet clothes. Papa was giving him warm water to drink. Aurora even started to pour the water on Orion’s feet, but Mama slapped her away. There wasn’t anything I could do but stare. 

“What happened,” I murmured, and Papa looked up, tears shining in his eyes. It occurred to me that I had never seen my father cry. 

“He fell through the ice. One second he was there, and the next he was in the water,” he answered, his voice breaking. “I, I should have been keeping an eye on him. I should have, I should have gotten to him faster.”

“It’s not your fault, Nicholas,” Mama soothed as Aurora sat next to me, and I could see tears streaming down my sister’s face. “These things happen.” 

“Mama, I’m hot,” Orion muttered and started to kick off his blankets, but Mama stopped him.

“No, no, sweetie. You need to keep those on,” Mama coaxed, but Orion continued to struggle. I sent up a silent prayer to whatever gods or spirits were listening, begging them to save my brother, and I could see Aurora mouthing her own prayers. Still, Orion remained shivering on the floor. Still shivering, still dying. I heard Aurora get up and leave, and after a few minutes, I followed her, finding I could do nothing more in the hut. 

I found my sister sitting in the snow outside, her hands ablaze. She turned toward me, and I could see a fire in her eyes, brighter than the fire around her.

“It’s getting stronger, Ember,” she whispered in a shaky voice. She held her hand a few feet from the ground and the ice under her melted. I knelt in the snow and put my arm around her, ignoring the unnatural warmth radiating from her skin. 

“Don’t worry about it, Aurora. It’s going to be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you,” I soothed, but from behind me, I heard it, someone keening.

And, it was coming from our hut. 

I ran back home and yanked open the door, dread filling my chest. I found Mama cradling Orion’s pale blue body, and Papa crying next to her. My heart shattered as it dawned on me. No, no, no, I thought. Please. 

I could hardly believe it. My baby brother, who had been running around making snowmen a few days earlier, who wanted nothing more than to take the sun, was now lying stone-cold dead in my mother’s arms. Behind me, I heard the crunching of snow and turned to find Aurora running. As I watched, she headed to the center of town. Without another thought, I took off after her. 

“Aurora, wait,” I called, but she didn’t look back until she was standing in front of the bonfire. Dread washed over me. “Aurora, what are you doing?” She finally turned back to me, and I saw fire and resolve in her eyes. 

“No one else is going to die from this cold,” she declared. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“Aurora, don’t do this,” I cried, but it was too late. Without another word, she stepped into the flames. Her screams echoed through the village, and they seemed to shake the world. My sister, my little sister, I thought numbly. I could hear the other villagers coming out of their huts to investigate, but I only saw Aurora, her body engulfed in flames. 

Then, as I continued to stare, something incredible happened. Her flaming body started to rise from the fire, though her screams of anguish still echoed in my ears. 

As she rose, I thought of the promise I had made her. I thought of Orion’s limp body in my mother’s arms. I thought of the flames dancing at her fingertips. I thought of my parents who would now mourn not one child but two. But, as I watched her rise higher and higher into the air, I felt the ground under me become mud. The bitter wind stopped whistling in the trees. People cheered as the clouds parted to reveal my sister, a blazing light in the sky. A sun, I realized as I choked out a sob. 

“Aurora,” I whispered, but she was gone. And, in her place was the light we all needed. 

When I turned around, I saw my parents with tears in their eyes as they beheld the sun. While the rest of the village cheered and thanked whatever spirits or gods were out there, we sobbed in each other’s arms, knowing who they should have been praising. 

From that day, my village lived-in warmth and happiness. There was even a holiday dedicated to the day the sun had returned, but I knew. I knew the true light in the darkness, and I woke up every day with her name on my lips. 

“Thank you, sister,” I would mutter. “Thank you for saving us all.”