Aurora's Flame

The light flickered and waved, growing a bit smaller before coming to life again. The crowd huddled around it, gasping as it dimmed and sighing in relief as it grew like a collective heartbeat that kept the flame alive. The small, sickly pale girl who held the flame watched in fascination as it danced and changed shape and color. To an onlooker, it would seem as if she’d never seen anything like it before, an observation that would not be far off. The girl had been abandoned above ground only a few days before and came into the small compound looking for food. The inhabitants didn’t turn her away, but they also didn’t give her a proper place to stay. Maybe they would have been kinder to her if she had come during the day.

But maybe not.

Their tolerance of the girl took a turn when the council leader decided that she was to be the light keeper, the one who will maintain the light that must be kept burning during the period of endless night. Most people felt that no creature of the Dark should be allowed into their homes, let alone be given the honor and privilege of tending to the only source of light for days. Those of the Dark lived underground and only ventured above during the night; if they abandoned one of their own, she should be left to fade back into oblivion.

The council leader saw her differently. He named her Aurora when he gave her the light and his kind eyes shone bright as she accepted the small flame in her delicate hands. Everyone could see that he was satisfied with his choice to entrust her, but no one understood why. Aurora didn’t seem to notice the discontent and she would play with the light and sing to it in her strange language, which caused further resentment because she didn’t seem to be taking her role seriously. Maintaining the light was necessary as much as it was ceremonial; every year, the period of darkness lasted a bit longer than the last and no one knew if the light would ever come back. The small flame was a way to save their fuel but also keep the darkness at bay.  

A few days passed and the darkness grew in intensity like a black, milky fog. They formed groups of one to two people to follow the Aurora at all times to make sure the light was tended, muttering under their breaths in resentment for the extra burden and stress. No one dared to interrupt the girl’s play, however, lest they cause her to drop the light and plunge their small compound into darkness. She was given the flame, and only she was to keep it alight.  

The crowd started to gather around Aurora when the days turned into weeks. She kept the flame alive, but that did little to dispel the fear that in a second, the world could plunge into a darkness that may not ever end. Everyone huddled closer and watched the light as if it would herald the end of the world. Most of them forgot to eat.

They might have all died waiting for the dawn, too afraid to walk away from the light to stay alive. The sun would have risen to Aurora’s soft voice coaxing the flame to play a little longer while the rest of the inhabitants lay gaunt and lifeless on the cold ground around her. Some of them were hours away from this fate when the oldest council member, Roshan, trundled from the council house with a cart of bread and soup, too slow and silent for anyone to notice.

“Does anyone know what she’s saying?” Roshan's voice cut through the cold air as she passed out bowls of soup, “if I was her, I would say, ‘I’m the light keeper and no one wants to feed me or let me sleep in a bed. Maybe I should burn this place down.’”  

Everyone ate in silence. Despite not having eaten for days, no one seemed to have an appetite. The crowd dissipated soon after, and Aurora slept in a bed for the first time since she arrived.

The next time the crowd gathered, they greeted each other and referred to the darkness as “the great blanket.” They had never had to wait so long for the sun, and it somehow felt better to accept a life without light than to continue to hope for the darkness to end. Even Aurora’s flame started to become something of an annoyance, a startling break to the constant, peaceful night. When she stayed with a family, they would cover the light with a lid just to keep the flame alive. They moved and worked by feel of their hands and by sound.

With nothing to do except watch the supplies slowly dwindle, the inhabitants gradually learned Aurora’s language, and she learned theirs. She wasn’t loud, but she was constantly talking and her voice would stay in the air for hours even after she went to sleep. At first, it just felt like some kind of birdsong or music, but after a while, she became the voice of their own thoughts.  

It could have been months later - nobody really knew - but one day, a villager noticed something odd. He heard Aurora’s voice near, but saw no flame. At first, he thought that she forgot the flame at home, and told her to go retrieve it before anyone noticed. He felt around in the air to pat her reassuringly on her head, but Aurora placed the light holder in his hand instead. It was empty. The flame was gone.

Within minutes, the crowd came together with the members of the council, whispers spreading through the air. This had never happened before, and no one was sure how to proceed. Aurora did not seem to be affected in the least. She flitted about, talking to each of the families that took her in and making them smile in a way only she could. The darkness affected how they recognized her; no one could see her approaching, but her soft footsteps were unmistakable and her little hands would slip into theirs without warning to tell them that she wanted attention.  

As the whispers grew louder, the council leader’s voice rose above the rest.

“We are all here to make this decision together! The light is now faded and we need to decide if we want to use more resources to light another, or to wait for the end of the darkness.” The whispers turned into a low wave of voices.

“What would we do with another light?” One voice called out.

“We don’t even know if the darkness will end…” said another. More voices chimed in and soon it was impossible to hear what was being said.

“Silence for a moment!” The council leader broke his usual gentle demeanor to be heard above the noise. A few indistinct mutters, and then silence.  

“Let us ask Aurora about how they live in the Dark,” continued the council leader, “maybe she can guide us on how to survive during this time.” There were murmurs of agreement, and soon little Aurora’s voice rose above the other voices.

“What is the Dark?” Her question hung in the air for a moment before anyone could think to respond.

“...the Dark? It’s your home, little Light,” said one of the women who had become especially fond of Aurora. “It’s where you came from, the world underground.”

“But why is it called the Dark?” Aurora’s genuine inquisitive tone made a few of the inhabitants chuckle.

“Because it’s dark there, my girl. You must feel at home now that it’s dark up here as well.” The council leader’s smile could be heard through his tone, no doubt wondering if the meaning of the word “dark” was misunderstood.

“But…it’s not dark there,” said Aurora, “we’re never in the dark very long, just when we sleep.” The collective silence was cut short by one of the inhabitants.

“What do you mean? There’s no sun underground.” He soon felt Aurora’s little hand in his, tugging a bit so he turned in her direction.

“I’ll show you.” Slowly, softly, Aurora began to glow, a faint yellow light emanating from her chest, slowly radiating outward. The inhabitants gasped as they saw their world come to light again after being so long in the darkness. Suddenly, cries of disbelief started to spread as the inhabitants noticed the light spreading into their bodies as well.

“How are you doing this? What’s happening to us?!” The council leader exclaimed, looking down at the faint light starting to shine through his cloak.

“I’m not doing anything,” Aurora laughed, “you must have forgotten.” 

“I didn’t forget.” Roshan was near the back, her brilliant light illuminating her face and making her eyes twinkle. “But sometimes we need to find peace in the darkness before remembering that we are the light for each other.”