Game of Planets

Polar Night. A three-month tournament of planets, ice and magic.

Altrus had finished the first game: the Mercury-themed find-a-clue, which would have been babyish if it didn’t end in the possible death of a polar bear. To the inhabitants of the North Ice, polar bears represented resilience and might and as such were held as sacred.

“Easy.” Altrus smiled confidently, knowing that his mind was sharp enough to pass the contest without much problem. Alina laughed.

“For you.” She creased her eyes into half-moons, then gave him a little smirk. “Not for the rest of us.”

The contestants had been instructed to scramble over the ice fields in search of hidden messages, decipher the clues and get to the other side before the walruses wailed. Navigating the landscape in such darkness was only made possible by the pinks, purples and blues of the Aurora Borealis, which rippled like aquarium lights all over the vast frozen expanse. 

Altrus quickly found one message hidden in a snow-laden tuft of grass: it was leaf-sized and written on animal skin. Another message mocked him from a few centimetres under the frozen lake, illuminated every few moments by the lightshow passing overhead. Looking around, the silhouetted figures of other contestants were scattered about the darkness, running and sliding in all directions. 

He’d lost sight of Alina hours ago. 

Altrus watched a rival smash through the lake, attempting to retrieve their own message, only for everyone to witness the little animal skin note floating away into the obsidian depths. A sudden hysteria began, then, when all the remaining contestants attempted to either polish the ice (to read through it) or precisely carve it, using twigs, in an attempt to retrieve their own clues. 

An the end - when the wails were heard - polar bears had to be slaughtered.

Amidst the chaos, Altrus did not find Alina again. Even more than himself, he had wanted to see her win.

They’d become aware of each other’s existence two years ago; Alina’s hips had widened, which stirred something warm and deep inside of Altrus. He didn’t know it, but Alina had noticed his shoulders widening, which had stirred something inside of her too.

He hoped to see her in the Venus Game; a competition of song, dance, theatre and chance, orchestrated in front of the many Moon Gods who lined the ice flat, watching. 

These creatures were white, globular beings with glowing faces and willowy limbs. Decked in furs, they watched from icy thrones positioned all around the landscape. 

It’s said that a person’s true-love may reveal themselves during the Venus Game. The lore is that, when each contestant is finally overcome by Venus’ beauty (this planets' Game is highly intoxicating), their deepest desires become known and secret lovers are pulled together by the magnetism of Venus herself.

 Altrus believed in this folktale. It was a myth held sacred by all tribespeople, its roots reaching into the foundations of the North Ice. It had been the reason for his parents’ first meeting.

The contest ended in a culmination of the contestants’ desire to win and, when all the frenzies were over, one tribesperson was named winner by the Moon Gods. He and the others that were left standing were the only contestants allowed to move onward. If anyone fell to their knees in ecstasy during the contest, they were are out. Secret lovers had been known to run away under the reign of this planet.

But the Venus Game came and passed with no sign of Alina, either standing or kneeling.

Dejected, Altrus bellowed his way through the Earth Game. 

Singular, in that this contest is personal, each contestant took a space beneath the marble sky and chanted their chosen magical words in private. They could ask for whatever they wanted: to win the contest, to escape the ice flats, to be stronger, to be smarter, to be more beautiful. Anything that would help progress their own personal destiny, both within the contest and on the other side of it. 

Altrus called for Alina over and over, like a seal caught in a net taking its last breaths. Or like a narwhal speared by something unseen above the water. He groaned, believing in his solitude, believing he’d missed his chance to tell her. He hated the world because he had missed his chance to tell her.

When the Mars Game began, Altrus was fired up. 

A battle of strength and will, the contest demanded each person remain on their feet while holding an enormous log. Then all contestants are instructed to hit at each other’s logs, attempting to topple each other over through any means necessary, until only one person is left standing. Accidents often occurred in the dark; the Mars Game was both the most feared and (by some) the most anticipated. In the history of the game, it was usually men who won, but an awful lot of women had adapted recently and used both their height and their beauty to their advantage. Altrus passed, along with a handful of other men and women.

The numbers were getting low now and Alina was definitely not among them.

Next was the Jupiter Game, a game of good luck and miraculous, positive turns-of-events.

Something small whispered in Altrus’ heart:

Maybe she’ll be there.

These planetary contests sometimes resulted in death and always resulted in shame. If Alina had fallen at the first hurdle and her polar bear had been slaughtered, she would have felt the heavy gaze of her clan and been forced into a mental darkness.

Maybe that’s why she hasn’t been at camp these last few weeks. 

While eating his soup and bread, Altrus had often scanned the shelter for any sign of her. She hadn’t known it, but she was his one bright spark in this ominous wasteland, his one source of warmth. Sometimes, contestants who fail the Polar Night challenge early on give up completely. 

Without community, there’s not much to live for in such extremes. 

It’s too dangerous, too dark and brutal. 

Many have taken themselves to the South-Eastern slopes in past tournaments. Breathed their last breaths and dropped themselves into the black ocean, with its towers of ice and endless waves.

Altrus pushed the thought out of his mind. 

I should have told her.

As the Jupiter Game began, trumpets blared and fire-wands twirled up on the hills. 

Altrus headed to the woods. 

Fir trees will hide me, for sure. They are thickly-stacked and impenetrable to the Aurora Borealis.

So tightly packed in, pine needles plugged Altrus’ ears; their earthy, fresh smell engulfed him. He could no longer hear the tournament.

Silence fell like a heavy blanket.

I will not offer myself up to hope again. 

I will not believe in the magic of planets.

I will not let the Polar Night have me.

If Alina had succumbed, Altrus knew he would not be able to live in its misery.

He closed his eyes and decided to become a tree. 

Just as Zeus had changed his daughter into a pine during battle, because he had known the alternative was that she would die, Altrus - a being of darkness, of ice and brutality and intelligence - Altrus now become a pine too, for he knew he was destined to die in this battle, a battle between survival and love. 

A battle he’d lost simply because he hadn’t spoken up.

Alina.

“I’m here, Altrus.”

With an embarrassing splutter and cough, Altrus opened his eyes. In front of him, so close and warm against his body, covered in pine, was Alina.

“What…how…?” he stumbled, eyes trembling with an internal sunlight that he’d kept hidden from the world, a light that existed just for her.

“Yeah. They slaughtered my polar bear. I left because…well…fuck that.”

She laughed, her eyes twinkling with the kind of insistent hope that had always made Altrus proud of her, a resilience that made her stand out in the endless darkness. 

“I love you” he breathed.

Her face slowly changed from its characteristic quick-witted composure to the most radiant sunrise he’d ever seen.

Horns blasted outside and the trees (bewitched by the Moon Gods) spread to release them.

“Altrus!” the Gods called, “You are the winner of the Saturn Game!”

“What’s happening?” Altrus gasped, peering over Alina’s shoulder. The entire tournament party stared back at them.

“After I left, I was taken by Jupiter. He kept me…I guess, for you. When you said…what you said…”

She looked at Altrus through velvety eyes in which something delicate moved, like a flag waving.

`"...When you said you love me…that was Saturn’s challenge. You won the game set by Saturn, planet of maturity.”

“I was going to do that anyway…. Say what I said.” Altrus explained.

“Destiny" Alina shrugged, before taking his hand and pulling him out of the trees. She did not let go of him all the way through the crowning ceremony and back up to camp.

That night, by the warm campfire and under a thousand purple galaxies, Alina showed Altrus her love as they tangled and bumped under blankets of fur.

The Neptune Game (a cold-water swim) came and went.

“Uranus today, planet of freedom” Alina smiled to Altrus one morning.

“I’ve heard a little about it” he smiled back meekly.

“One of the hardest. If not the hardest.”

“Really messes people up.”

“Plays with their souls.”

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence for a while, both looking out into the onyx sky and knowing that it was morning time. They tried to remember life in the light as the smell of the burned-out campfire, which had been lit now for many nights, filled their lungs, making them heady and hungry for each other again.

“Will it be like this when the days return?” Alina asks. 

Altrus was quiet.

“Sorry. I know it’s hard.”

“Whatever happens, I’ll make sure we are together.”

Altrus put a soft hand on her shoulder and offered a smile. She kissed him.

“We deserve it, don’t we?” 

Altrus nodded.

When the Uranus Game began, contestants were instructed to sit in a line across the ice flat, ten meters apart from each other. The iridescently-black ice twinkled for miles around them. The Moon Gods looked down from their thrones, casting doubtful glances at each other and offering little comfort to the three contestants that were left. 

Altrus had recognised them: a purple-haired girl called Mora who was often seen at the feet of women in a neighbouring town; a heavy-set man called Wenk, who wore a lot of spikes and came from behind the ice hills; lastly, a lithe man called Argor who belonged to Altrus’ own tribe. 

Argor was sitting on one side of Altrus and Mora on the other. Wenk sat beyond her. Altrus offered a thumbs-up to Argor, when the light passed over them, but Argor spat him back an acid look and sharply turned his head away.

Oh…kay.

When Altrus tried to offer one to the little girl, she didn’t see it. After a few more attempts and some frantic waving, Mora finally caught on and giggled, giving Altrus a thumbs-up back. A cold gust blew through the ice fields and served as a reminder of the difficulties ahead.

“Contestants, for most of this year’s Game of Planets, you have had straight-forward instructions, or else, with the more…liberal planets – “(this he said with contempt) “– you have been taken up into their own energies and given a private lesson, all of which you have all, somehow, passed and accomplished.”

The voice came from a Moon God who was standing up on his mount.

“Now you are asked to take everything you have learned and apply it to the gifts Uranus offers to you. This challenge takes a different tone to the ones you have recently completed. As some of you will know, Uranus is the cosmic guardian - and granter - of freedom. Each year he offers a different version of his Game: this year, he has chosen to offer you each one of three options.”

There was a half-suppressed muffle of voices that girdled the ice flats as the invisible onlookers readied themselves for the penultimate Game. Altrus looked around at the strange shapes that lurked in the darkness, hoping to see anyone he recognised in the glow of the Moon Gods’ heads. 

He breathed in the cold, clean air. Alina’s scent lingered to his chest.

Where is she?

Alina said she’d be watching and (if he was honest with himself) Altrus knew she was out there somewhere. He knew she was waiting; that she always would be now. But he would’ve done anything to have her there, beside him, when all those strange phantoms and oddities were staring down at him, their invisible eyes boring in.

And it was about to get a lot worse.

“Contestants! Your first option is to take your freedom. This option will allow you to surrender here, to walk back to whence you came and forfeit the contest of your own free will. If this option is chosen, you will return home and never see what awaits you in Pluto’s game ahead.”

An excited murmur rippled around the edge of the ice field.

“Quieten down, quieten down. Now, option two! Uranus offers you the choice of finding your freedom. To choose this option would mean surrendering your free will to destiny. You will be allowed to walk away from this tournament, to walk away from the North Ice and follow your own path, hoping that the purpose of your existence lies out there –“ the Moon God dramatically swung his thin arm behind him, motioning to the mountains “- somewhere.”

The last word was said with a crazed shake of his massive head, as if he could not believe anybody would dare take such a bohemian risk seriously.

A crackle of surprised “Oh!"s rattled the black landscape.

Altrus glanced at the trio of looming, white triangles which hung, beheaded, in the sky in the West, the only part of the mountains that could be seen during Polar Night.

“And lastly, option three. The option to choose your freedom.”

The Moon God settled back into his throne, a placid expression now pulling down his waxy face.

“This option is means that you will continue the tournament, on to Pluto’s final Game, in which he will teach you more about what your personal freedom is.”

A silence muzzled any buzz that lingered over the North Ice then. 

Everybody knew Pluto was scary; that planet had no rules, no structure, no plan. He was a void, a bigger and more barbaric void than could be found even in the depths of Polar Night. Pluto was a mystery and mysteries were dangerous.

Time passed. 

The cold started to seep through as Altrus battled with his choices.

Option two had mentioned destiny. Alina said ‘destiny’, before, in the pines. Maybe this is a sign?

Altrus had never gone beyond the foot of the hills, never crossed into another territory, but he’d always been curious. In the lighter months, the hills and mountains of the North Ice could be seen in all their splendour, covered in layers of emerald moss, heaving with juicy, garnet-coloured flowers. Even birds lived up there: big birds, which flew in the strong winds and made fierce noises in the way which only truly wild things can.

Or I could go home now. I could see Alina, light a fire, talk and laugh and be somewhat comfortable when the days returned. But I’d never be allowed to leave. I’d be confined to one space for the rest of my life. I’d never climb those mountains.

Sadness gripped Altrus.

Or I could continue the tournament. I am so close. I could see what Pluto has to say. Discover what lies beyond. 

“It is now time, contestants. Time to choose.”

The silence was shattered by the primary Moon God, who ushed the other Moon Gods to rise. 

“Mora?”

“Option one. I want to go home.” The little girl said. 

“Very well. Off you go.”

Altrus raised a hand to her in goodbye but, for everything she’d been through, she just dashed off into the night.

“Wenk?”

“I choose option two, to go beyond the hills and surrender to the will of destiny.” He beat his chest as he said it, the noise travelling to Altrus over the ice.

“Very well.”

As Wenk went on his way, he came into visibility with Altrus and gave him a nod. Altrus nodded, noticing that the hard-looking man had innocence in his features. 

“Argor?”

“Option three. Pluto.” The answer came out brittle, sharp and fast.

“Very well. Sit.”

Altrus watched the thin, angry man as he sat back in place, a smile of malice and pride obscuring anything human in his appearance.

He’s…weird.

“Altrus.”

A tremor shot through Altrus’ muscles as he stood up, planting his feet firmly onto the ice beneath him and willing his heart to hold steady.

I love you, Alina.

A wind blew in again, this time lighter and more playful, lifting Altrus's long curls and fingering the furs around his body.

‘It’ll be ok’ he almost heard Alina whisper back.

Then he took a deep, frozen breath and prayed for better days.

“I choose…option three.”

Argor and Altrus were suddenly plunged into darkness – real darkness, a true void. Their familiar environment vanished, along with everybody they’d ever known.

“Where am I?!” Altrus shouted into the nothingness.

Argors cackle sounded from beside him, loud and evil and growing in intensity.

But then Argor was cut off by another, mightier voice, one that sounded both noble and insane.

“This is freedom, boys!” 

It boomed, echoing in waves that lapped around Altrus’ body.

“Welcome!”