The Brighter the Light, the Deeper the Shadow

Thyra surveyed the water around her, diligently waiting for a minnow to reveal itself between the soft glints of reflected sunlight. Her long skirt was knotted around her waist, serving two purposes – keeping it dry and holding in place her bilberry-laden pouch. A faint ripple appeared beside her left foot. Without hesitation, Thyra deftly plucked a small silvery fish from the brook. She had four now, which wasn’t a lot, but with a portion of bread and a handful of berries, it would be sufficient. Cadoc wasn't expected home for another few days, so she only needed just enough for herself. Well, almost just herself. Thyra smiled as she felt the newly familiar flutters of their growing child.

The afternoon sun was warm on Thyra’s back. but the slight breeze kept her cool as she walked home. She lived in a small coastal village, the same village where she had grown up. Her daily outing for rations had been taking longer lately, on account of the deep, tugging pains she felt in her sides whenever she walked for longer than a few minutes. Aside from the physical discomfort, Thyra was otherwise unbothered by the pain. She took it as a sign of her baby growing, and in turn, her body stretching to make room. She thought about her husband as she walked, imagining his reaction to the joyful news she would soon be sharing with him. Cadoc had been away for many weeks now, and she had not yet told him about the baby who had nestled itself in her womb. Part of her thought it might be nothing more than an illusion, and besides, she hadn’t wanted Cadoc to worry while he was gone. They had been married for three years, which wasn’t a long time, but three years of hoping for a baby to love had passed remarkably slowly. But now that she could feel this new life growing stronger each day, she knew her prayers to Freyja, the Goddess of fertility, had been answered.

Thyra stopped for a mouthful of water from the flask that hung around her neck. The pause brought some relief from the stretching pains, so she allowed herself to rest longer than usual. There was no need to rush home, nobody was waiting for her and there was plenty of daylight left. Had she turned around during her brief rest, or another moment around this one, she would have noticed that a slice of the sun had been covered in darkness. But having no reason to deviate from her path, Thyra was unaware of the celestial mechanics taking place above her. Instead, she lingered in the damp, earthy smell of the changing season, a promise of warmer days ahead, slipping a bilberry from her pouch and into her mouth. She bit down on it, delighting in the mildly sweet burst of tang as she did so. Fresh bilberries always transported Thyra back to her childhood. To foraging in the woods with her sister, and eating stealthily pocketed bilberries as they walked home. She had known Cadoc then too. Although they hadn’t really spent a lot of time together, Thyra had always felt something between them. Something about him had felt like home. While she found it difficult to offer much of herself over to others, she had never had this problem with Cadoc. He had somehow been able to extract the very essence of her, without her even realising what she had given away.

With her slow pace and frequent stops, Thyra was still walking when her skin prickled from the sudden chill in the air around her. The comforting breeze had stilled, and, she noticed with curiosity, that the sky had quite suddenly darkened. Around her, the sounds of the evening had come to life. Crickets chittered and the birds commenced their evening songs. Confused, Thyra wondered how she had taken that much longer than usual to reach home. Surely not. She normally made it back with plenty of time to prepare her meal, and perhaps work on the shawl she was weaving for the baby, before darkness was upon them. Thyra looked into the shadowy sky. Stars gleamed. Birds were flying into the forest, as they did at nightfall, returning to their nests. Turning around to see if more birds were coming, Thyra let out a gasp. In the sky behind her, the sun had been almost entirely swallowed by a deep blackness.

Rendered suddenly immobile, Thyra found herself transfixed by awe and terror. Despite her alarm, she could not seem to tear her eyes away from the vanishing sun. Beads of light appeared around its perimeter, followed by one dazzling light emanating from one side. She watched, silent and still, as the totality of the sun was covered, save for a glowing halo around the deep black hole in the sky. As far as she could see, the earth had been engulfed in a dome of darkness. Thyra looked down at her trembling hands. They had taken on a horrifying bluish-grey shade that no resemblance to any human skin she had ever seen. Realising she had been holding her breath, Thyra gasped for air, which was cool and damp. Each breath of it revealed a vaguely sweet smell that was entirely at odds with the tightness with which it filled her lungs. Her fingers and lips tingled. Her heart pounded urgently against her chest, threatening to evacuate. It occurred to Thyra that the world as she knew it was somehow transforming into an underworld of sorts, and the delicate clouds that had formed in the air around her had filled with cruel whispers.

The baby, she remembered. The baby! She panicked. Willing herself not to collapse, Thyra lowered herself to her knees, placing her head and hands on the ground in front of her. She could feel the shifting worlds reverberating through her. She closed her eyes, tormented by the unfairness of it all. Cadoc. How would he make it home through this grim new reality?

An overwhelming sense of guilt snaked its way into Thyra’s thoughts, passing down her burning throat before settling like an anchor in her stomach. Was this about the nameless fishermen? She had only been trying to help. Trying to give Cadoc what he wanted, what they both wanted. Each time he would return from another fishing expedition, full of hope and expectancy. Each time, she disappointed him. Cadoc blamed himself, believing it was his time at sea, the missed opportunities, that were making it so difficult for them to conceive a child. Thyra couldn’t bear seeing the man she loved burdening himself with the blame for their misfortune. So, while Cadoc was away, she had visited the fishermen who passed through their village. The encounters were transactional more than anything else. They were usually over and done with quickly, and Thyra had been able to force them into the deepest shadows of her mind. And now she was pregnant. And this baby, the baby she convinced herself was Cadoc’s, was causing this terrible hole in the sky.

What had she been thinking? She didn’t want a stranger’s baby at all, the whole wonderful point of it all was to create a life together with her husband. With her head still on the ground, Thyra prayed to every God and Goddess she could think of. Please. I’m sorry. Do what you must if this child is not Cadoc’s. I deserve your punishment. But, if this child is his, then let us be. Please, let us be. Opening her eyes, Thyra became aware of the deep brown of the dirt. The mottled pink flesh of her hands. Looking up unsteadily, Thyra saw that the black shadow had moved, revealing an arc of the sun. The world around her was light again. A pair of ravens flew back out of the forest. Thyra cried with happiness. Our baby, Cadoc. We have been blessed. This baby is truly ours.