The Darklight

“What IS that?” Callana exclaimed, pointing upwards. Borrin gasped. A large source of light crested over the horizon, something he had not seen except in memory. His skin felt cold, and goosebumps rose quickly on his arms and legs. He looked down, and saw his hands in an orange-yellow natural light that felt soft and warm on his cool-toned skin.

“It’s… the Sun!” he said in dazed bewilderment, eyes wide at the ascending orb of burning light. The Sun was the great ball of light that had gone missing from their world when Borrin had been little more than an infant. Adults spoke about it with wonder in their eyes and sad, small voices. They would tell stories of the times under the Sun, when people would lay out on hills and near oceans, just bathing in the light. Adults seemed to speak about it with a faraway look in their eyes, and then turn sad as they continued, as if they had forgotten for a moment that their precious Sun had left them.

“This light feels… different,” Callana said, looking at her hands with wonder. She was younger than Borrin. She had never felt the touch of sunlight on her skin. She began to laugh, skip, and jump. He had almost never seen his sister this excited. Color flowed to her face, and she looked… alive.

Their people had learned how to control fire, to use lanterns, candles, and torches, and so they had lived in dim light that flickered and burned out. It felt magnificent to have the light of the Sun, now rising high above the mountain, softly shining on their cold, pale skin.

“Ow,” Borrin said, quickly looking away from the Sun. He had not realized how long he’d been staring at it. As he blinked aggressively, he said, “Hey Calla, don’t stare at it for too long. It damages your eyes if you look directly at it.”

“Eh, it’s fine,” Callana replied, blinking a little bit, but mostly fine.

“Come on,” Borrin said, grabbing Callana’s hand, “Let’s go find Mom and the other Elders.” He began running, but had to slow down. Turns out not having sunlight for the last twenty-two years and then suddenly having it has its side effects. For example, Borrin stopped suddenly and threw up in a barrel on the side of the road. Callana, however, seemed completely fine.

“What’s wrong Bor? Are you okay?” she asked, patting him on the back.

“I’m fine,” he said, “Let’s just get to Mom so we can get inside.” They started off again, slowly this time, to their house. It was near the House of Elders, so if their mother had already gone there to meet with the others, they would quickly be able to find her. They burst into the front door and found their mother and father getting ready to leave.

“Children!” their Mother said, opening her arms for an embrace. The two ran to her and hugged her.

“What is going on Mom? The Sun! It’s-”

“Back, I know!” she exclaimed, cutting off Borrin’s query.

“But why is the Sun back? I thought Apollo was dead, or angry or whatever,” asked Borrin.

“Borrin, I do hope you have been attending your religion classes,” his mother said, raising a stern eyebrow.

“Yes, mother, of course I have! Just - paraphrasing,” Borrin said with an unconvincing smile.

Mrs. Hazelwood sighed, looking to her husband for assistance. He shrugged and shook his head.

“Anyway, we must meet with the rest of The Elders. We have to figure out what this means!” she said valiantly, and began walking out the door. Mr. Hazelwood followed her, but stopped first and put his hands on his kids’ shoulders.

“Be careful. We do not yet know what the meaning of this is,” he warned, staring into their souls. The two kids nodded slowly with wide eyes, and he squeezed their shoulders before running out after Mrs. Hazelwood.

“That was weird,” Callana said, grabbing a slice of bomberry bread from the table.

“It really was,” Borrin said, spacing out at a floorboard with a wonky nail in it. What was going on? Why would the Sun suddenly return after all of these years? Who did it answer to? And why?

“We gotta go,” Callana said, scarfing the rest of her bread down. She ran out the door and toward the House of Elders. Borrin followed, and they both sprinted to their spot, a stack of crates near the open window of the House where they would sometimes listen to the goings-on of the Eldership.

“It’s true,” said Elder Wartorn in his gravelly voice, “I had hoped otherwise, but it seems to be the case.”

“What case?” Mr. Hazelwood asked, sounding out of breath.

“The children. Apollo has chosen his hero, and Nyx chose hers ages ago,” said the sniveling, nasally voice of Elder Primm. “They are a danger to our society. The Sun has returned, and this is no mistake. It is a challenge to Nyx. The two will fight until we die in the crossfire. Apollo and Nyx will do anything they want to through these children. We need to stamp out the remnants of the old society that praised the gods. These kids are a danger to everybody who walks these streets,” Elder Primm continued, sniffing repeatedly as he usually did.

“Who are they talking about?” whispered Callana. Borrin’s stomach sank. He felt like he knew whom they spoke of.

“They are not children anymore. She turned eighteen today, and he has been of age for years now,” Mr. Hazelwood said, sounding anxious. At this point, Callana turned to Borrin and looked at him with fear. It was Callana’s eighteenth birthday today. They’d gone out to the field to walk and visit her friends. They continued to listen, even though everything in Borrin told him to run.

“Carilla, why are you silent!? They are our children!” Mr. Hazelwood yelled. His voice echoed through the cavernous room. “There is no way they are the gods’ chosen. This is blasphemy!”

They heard the sound of wood hitting wood. Elder Griff had used his staff to silence the counsel. There was silence, besides heavy breathing.

“Sacrifice them. They are dangerous to our livelihood,” Carilla Hazelwood, their mother, said solemnly.

Borrin’s chest went cold. Not waiting to hear any more, he clamped his hand around his sister’s arm and began to run. She sprinted too, faster than him. The two ran through the backyard of their house, past the baker’s, past the armory, then the library, all the way to the edge of town. There, they saw the stables. A young, chestnut-colored stallion was tied up in the stables, and next to him was a shiny-coated black and white stallion. Borrin equipped their saddles, which lay next to them in the hay, and threw his sister onto the back of the chestnut horse, while he leapt onto the black and white one. They exited the stables, then grabbed hold of the reins and slapped their horses’ flanks, taking off at high speed through the forest. They rode alongside each other in perfect sync.

“LEFT!” Callana yelled, and the two went left through a thicker, but not-yet-treaded path. The horses had to slow down at this point, but it was okay, as they were miles from their town at this point. Their breath was shaky as the horses tread through the thicket. They went past many streams, and almost ran into an angry Oxgoat, but finally made it to a small and shady area with a humongous tree. There was a nearby stream, and they allowed the horses to drink and munch on plant life.

“So what just happened?” Borrin asked, more in shock than in the way of actually posing a question. He was surprised. Then he recalled the observations he had been making his entire life. The way his mother looked at him with disdain, treating Callana as the golden child. He liked the darkness. He loved the warmth of the sun as much as any other person, but darkness comforted him. Darkness and night were what tucked him into bed and swaddled him while he went to sleep. It was obvious to him that he was the chosen of Nyx. The sun had disappeared when he was born, he felt power in the night, was more nocturnal than anyone else in his village. He could tell, however, that it wasn’t obvious to his sister that she was the chosen of Apollo.

“I don’t know, but why did they make it sound like… like WE are the chosen? That doesn’t make a lick of sense, I mean that’s got to be one of the most outrageous things I have ever heard-” she said, trailing off into mumbling, and pacing across the forest floor.

“Callana,” Borrin said, looking at her sternly, “You are Apollo’s. I am Nyx’s. We are the chosen.”

She stared at him, looking puzzled, and then she put it together.

“I have felt more alive today than any other day in my life,” she said in bewilderment. Something hummed in the air.

“And I feel horrendous. It’s got to mean something,” Borrin said, looking at his unusually gaunt face in the reflection of a puddle.

“But… What are we supposed to DO?” Callana asked, eyes darting anxiously as she remembered they were most likely being followed.

“Keep running away and figure it out. The Elders will try to kill us. Why not try to harness our power instead of getting rid of it, I have no idea. But regardless of their small minds, we must find out what our purposes are,” Borrin said, staring at a circle of mushrooms on the forest floor.

“How right you are, young one,” a soothing voice whispered from behind him. Callana looked as pale as before the sun had returned. Borrin slowly began to turn around, already able to guess who was there. Behind him, emerging from the misty shadows of the enormous tree, was a glowing, feminine figure: Nyx. Callana gulped. “Let me help you,” Nyx crooned.

“Don’t forget me!” said a male voice from nearby. Skipping into the shady clearing was a man made of gold, light shining out from him in every direction. Borrin had to look away, but he knew it was Apollo, God of the Sun.

“We have a plan for you two,” he chided. He then mimicked tipping his hat in Nyx’s direction, “M’lady of the night,” he said.

“Apollo,” Nyx responded with disdain. “Anyway, little ones, listen. We have much to discuss,” and with a swoosh of her arm, they were transported to a great cave, with shimmering crystals and glowing lichen all along its walls. Borrin and Callana looked at each other, then at the gods before them, then back at each other. They did not know what they were in for, but had to be ready. They could tell that the fate of their world depended on it.