Lyten

The sun pinched and twisted the sky until the black faded, ink flowing down a sheet of white parchment. Sera watched as the dark blanket of sky was drained- and a brick of slate grey replaced it. A couple hundred years ago, their ancestors had described such an event as sunrises with smooth, colorful prose. She figured there must’ve been something the sky lost in all those years, because even the pencils on her desk had more color than the skies.

There was a seat in her father’s office adjacent to a large window carved in the wood that was meant to show what hard work everyone outside did. Since all of them had moved down to the mines a couple months ago, however, it now provided only a barren view onto their small town in the middle of the Dark Woods. The browns and reds of their sheds and barns and houses provided an interesting contrast against the background of the black scenery behind, past the Barrier. 

A bird was perched on the windowsill so close that Sera could almost touch it if it weren’t for the glass. She hurriedly rolled a simple charcoal pencil into her fingers and began to draft the shape on the paper in front of her. 

The little grey wood-thrush didn’t seem to notice her as she frantically scribbled onto her sheet. She was grateful it didn’t fly away, but frustrated it would not stop twirling around in confusion- blurring its silhouette. As she rendered the thick lines of the belly, the opening of a door nearly made Sera jump out of her skin. 

She looked up from her paper and was left alone with her father, who had just stepped inside at the front of the room. He was an important man, manager of the mines underneath the ground they stood on. Which is why he was absent from his office most of the time, leaving her a free space to experiment with shapes and colors until something looked pleasing to the eye. He wasn’t much taller than her, and she had inherited most of his face from the curve of her mouth to the structure of her brow bone. His lively green eyes had been passed down as well- though now only one of his worked, the other having been removed after his face was slashed through by a Lyten. He had a large scar running from his hairline to just above his chin, all through the left side of his face. His left eyelid was permanently closed and sunken in. Her father was not fortunate enough to have seen enough of a Lyten to provide an image, and was the only known survivor of such attack. It was why he was entrusted with such responsibility. 

“I’m sorry,” she blurted before he could begin lecturing. “I was about to leave, I swear.” 

Her father looked as though he was about to begin lecturing regardless, but he closed his eyes and let escape from him a deep sigh. Peter Sryror was not a very old man, but you’d think so by observing the manner in which he moved. Sera did not remember much from before the attack happened, for she had been four years old- but she was told by many of her older friends that that was the day he had aged twenty years. Not only mentally; everyone around her swore he’d developed wrinkles by his eyes and forehead he hadn’t had.

Her mother had been lost that night. It was this that kept Sera from arguing with her father on curfew. She knew how tender the subject, and she knew not to deliberately prod at still-fresh bruises. She felt the guilt every day of having been a burden to a widower who wanted to mourn in peace without having to take care of some reckless daughter.

He took a glance outside the window and sighed deeply. “Go.”

Her father was intimidating. Strict. Yet she knew just how much he loved her, and she loved her father dearly as well.

She quickly folded and tucked her paper away in the pockets of her pants. Her father nudged her towards the door, and Sera figured she’d pick up her things the next day.

Sunrises were among the most dangerous occurrences in Redgraven. Sunrises meant the Savages had access to areas uncomfortably close to the town. It didn’t matter the force field around them- it was said Lyten could kill with a single stare.

Though, she only hid when her father came to hide with her, when he was off-duty. Every other time he was safe in the mines, she led Simon to the outskirts.

Sera looked over her shoulder. Her father had gone back inside to finish locking up the place for the day. It was safe to switch directions if she didn’t see him come out in another thirty seconds. These precautions seemed silly to her at first, however on a day where she’d almost been caught she swore she’d never skip them ever again. It didn’t matter who her father was. If she was out during daytime…the consequences would be beyond her most horrible nightmares.

“Sera?”

She froze at the sound of the voice. Turned to face him.

“Simon.”

Simon stood tall as he always had, grey eyes trained on her expression and back straighter than a wall. He pressed his lips into a line, then licked his lower lip before lowering his chin and relaxing his shoulders. The demeanor he sported most days he always made an effort to suppress around her. He knew his strange obsession with order made her deeply uncomfortable, especially considering they both committed insane border crimes nearly daily.

“Have you finally given up?” he gestured to the direction she was headed.

“No. You know if you don’t come with me I’ll just go alone?”

She turned away from him but switched directions, her back to his so he would not sense her bluff. She took seven steps before she heard him jog up.

Everyone was terrified of Officers-In-Training such as Simon. The ones who would grow up to be stationed at the border all day and then sleep during the night- the ones who would stand there, still as stone, and stare into the black of their own eyelids for hours at a time.

Sera was baffled as to why Simon had chosen such a job; she’d known he’d pick something in the vein of law but had never dreamed he’d want to become what everyone called statues. Watching him slowly lose liveliness and expression over the months of training had hurt more than she’d admit.

“Seraphina, please. I have a bad feeling. Don’t.” 

Though it seemed he hadn’t fully mastered the art of blank-face, for in the early light she saw the traces of pink in his cheeks. 

“Nah.”

She walked away from him again. The tender, silent bubble enveloping them had burst with the catalyst of her response, and Simon snapped back to unfeeling as he marched after her.

“What if I report you?”

“You wouldn’t,” she stated.

“You’re insufferable.” Frustration flooded his voice. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. She began to walk away again, and this time, he didn’t follow.

“You’re going to get yourself killed!” he shouted.

She was already gone. Yes, her ultimate goal was to be the first to draw a Lyten. Savages, the others called them- yet she couldn’t help but wonder. She’d heard the stories…yet… 

Book and pencil in hand, she trudged down to the outskirts in the area Simon was usually stationed. The sun stung her eyes like someone had squeezed lemon into them; to her it was unfathomable how humans could’ve once lived during the daytime. Sera wiped a drop of sweat from the back of her neck and quietly climbed over the thick fence guarding the Barrier. There was an area, a sort of small pocket of Barrier, right past the fence where she could sit with her legs crossed and observe out into the Woods. Here, she yanked off her shoes and let her feet touch the soft black sand right outside.

The Barrier was simple. It bore the appearance of a dome over them and kept anything on the outer side from entering. This would include her, should she leave the Barrier’s protection. If she ever let her full body slip outside, she’d be stuck on the other side. Stuck with the Lyten. Creatures of day, they called them. That was why they had made the transition to nocturnality so many years ago.

Sera craned her neck, pushed her braid to her back. What could a Lyten look like? 

These Woods were strange. Strange at least compared to the few trees they lived off in the village. Their trunks were the dark of the night sky, like the sand their roots rested underneath. Their foliage was dense- a shocking white roof over an old house of wood. Sometimes she thought she saw leaves fall down in the distance, white blurs extinguishing all of a sudden.

She settled on drawing the tree closest to her. Her fingers moved with intense, invisible string, weaving a fine tapestry of black and white on the sheet on her knees. An hour whizzed past her head in a hurried frenzy; and she’d moved on to a second tree as soon the first was finished.

Footsteps drew close to her almost three hours after.

“Changed your mind?” she prompted absentmindedly, and set her pencil next to her. Her entire being buzzed with protest- but she wanted to give Simon her undivided attention. He climbed over.

She looked up at Simon and smiled sheepishly. He looked frustrated, unusually disheveled. His dark hair was messy and distress was strewn across his features in an unlikely pattern. He narrowed his eyes.

“I came to get you,” he said. “This can’t keep going on.”

He sank to his knees in the sand next to her then readjusted so he sat in a casual manner. She said nothing in response, simply lifted her gaze and locked it with his.

“Simon?”

His head snapped back around.

“Why do you feel the need to police me around?” her fingers twisted into the end of her braid, and she tugged and twirled at the very end. He stared at her. Put a hand on her shoulder and breathed.

“I don’t police you around. I just need you safe.”

“You care too much.”

Simon bent down and grasped her things in his hands. She shot him a look.

“You don’t care at all.”

He rose from the ground and began to throw his foot over the fence. Sera rose along with him, brushing the dirt from the folds of her skirt and straightening her shirt.

Simon stumbled. His arms flailed in an effort to balance himself but instead caught Sera’s abdomen, and she swallowed a gasp in surprise. She had been getting ready to propel herself over the fence at the same time as him- the sudden, sharp movement caught her by surprise.

She made an attempt to steady herself, grabbed the collar of Simon’s shirt, and effectively dragged him down to the ground nearly on top of her- on the opposite side of the Barrier.

Sera paced barefoot on the sand. Every step seemed terribly heavy to her, and she cringed at even the slightest sound the action procured. Simon sat on his knees, his side practically glued to the Barrier but unable to pass back through it. His face had gone pallid, and the rigidness of his back looked as though his spine was a string pulled fully taut. His glassy grey eyes were wide open, alert. She knew how badly he wanted to follow the original game-plan and listen for sounds with his eyes closed- for fear of the Lyten’s deadly gaze- but for that, she’d have to stop pacing first. And that was too much of an ask.

It was nobody’s fault, she knew that- and Simon had drilled it into her for five minutes despite how he was shaking and angry. This had been an accident in its purest form. Yet she couldn’t help but kick herself at the knowledge this couldn’t have happened had they stayed indoors in the first place. She bit back a shiver.

She stopped in her tracks at the sound of leaves rustling up above. Simon’s head snapped in her current direction, and she heard a low, almost inaudible hiss leak from his mouth, “Stop that.”

His hands trembled. 

“It’s not me,” she whispered back. Her heart pounded against her ribs, and it felt as though it was trying to break out of her skin and leave her for dead. 

Simon stood immediately, posture still impeccable. Placed his hands on her shoulders and quietly pulled her into him. “Don’t say a word,” he murmured directly into her ear, his lips brushing her lobe.

She said nothing in response, lost in her own mind. He released her.

She and Simon were surely due to meet their demise in just a couple short hours. Another day, if they were lucky- but there was just no way they could survive further. They didn’t have food or water, even if the Lyten left them alone. She contemplated running off alone into the woods and simply ending it quicker. Sera pulled Simon’s coat closer to her figure. Maybe this way, she’d at least die with something to show for her stupidity. She tucked her hand into the pocket, and felt something cold greet her. Simon still stood in front of her, staring down at her every movement and glancing over at their surroundings. She withdrew the item from his pocket, and saw his eyes follow her hand out and in front of her.

He’d pocketed her sketchbook and pencil. She pressed her lips together in a sort of confusion, for she’d been sure they’d been dropped and lost on the other side.

“Uh, they fell half-in. So I pulled them over,” he provided, and she reached for his hand and squeezed. 

“Thank you. I’m sorry I got us into this mess. I’m serious. I should’ve listened.”

“Won’t make a difference now,” he mumbled. She was glad to see at least part of his face had regained color. Sera let her hand slip from Simon’s and tucked her things back into the pockets of his coat. For a moment, nothing happened. Then another sound rang, this nothing like the previous. It was loud, clear.

Simon quickly tugged her tight to his chest, and pulled his coat higher so as to cover her head. One hand pressed her face into him, firmly, and he leaned down his head on top of hers. The words spilling from his mouth were so low they were inaudible, but she felt the movement of his neck against her and knew he quickly recited a prayer. She clenched her fists over the fabric of his shirt. They waited.

There was another sound. This time, it was muffled by Simon and his efforts- yet she could make out the scream-like sound ring out. A thud, close to the both of them. Her gaze darted up and she saw Simon force his eyes closed.

Then, the sound of footsteps on sand. Something else being dragged behind them. 

A voice spoke, clear and low, in a language Sera did not recognize. She was puzzled, for she had thought there was no other civilization for hundreds of miles all around. She looked back up at Simon. His eyes were shut.

She pulled away, dusted off her skirt once again, and then let her eyes wander around her surroundings. There was nobody there. Her brows furrowed in confusion for a second before she heard his voice again.

Sera took a tentative step forward and simply observed the environment. She couldn’t help but get the feeling there was something off, but there were no signs of it. Everything seemed perfectly in order.

But did it suddenly feel colder? Darker, even though it was daytime? Were her bare feet making the appropriate sounds when they touched the dark sand beneath her?

It was frighteningly calm. Still. Come to think of it, was anything moving? At this point, she believed herself to have gone insane. Surely this was all a dream and she’d wake up back in her own bed in the village.

She moved closer to a certain tree she’d been eyeing. Reached a hand out to touch a white leaf suspended in midair, yelped and recoiled when it came aglow at the brush of her fingertips. Then her eyes went wild as she studied it in the palm of her hand.

The voice came again. This time it seemed as though it asked a question, the end of whatever it had said rising slightly in pitch towards the end.

“Hello?” she prompted again. She had the horrible feeling she was forgetting something.

The voice responded, its tone amused. She turned to face the direction it came from, and her distracted eyes landed on Simon.

Simon. Who still had his eyes closed and was standing perfectly still.

“Simon?” Sera called for him, and nothing came from the figure.

She ran toward him, letting the leaf in her hand fall to the ground. Grabbed his collar and tugged frantically. Touched his face in harsh ways.

“Simon?” her voice grew in alarm, and a ball of panic grew ten times its size inside her chest as she repeated his name, over and over again to no avail.

When the strange voice spoke again, it was from a few feet away.

He towered over both Simon and her, several feet of pitch black skin outlined by the light streaming in through the thin foliage in the area. His flesh was dotted with entire constellations of white freckles- and twisted horns protruded from his head.

She had no time to scream before he approached.