Light was a fable that Micau heard about from snakes that looked like gnarled trees and from birds that rarely sang. The child listened to the sounds of these creatures stirring from above. Some hisses would slither into words – eyes, dark and damp – some calls into songs that made Micau walk a little faster.
“Micau.” The orange wolf walking by the boy said in deep voice, “Watch your feet.” His companion would remind him. Each step in the dark jade soil was like walking on a breathing creature, soft to touch taking care not to wake.
Like a torch, Aadland was the color of a newly lit flame with a following tail of red smoke flickering from side to side.
The orange wolf darted his eyes of coal, “The spirits are restless tonight, Micau. It is said they glimmer when creatures are meant to be asleep. You will see them soon.”
Micau nodded. His own skin was quite unlike anything he had seen, either a relic of another time or foreboding, not even Aadland was certain. The child donned a white hat and a crisp white shirt and matching trousers. He, too, was white. White enough that even Death would think the young human was a recent friend. With mirror lakes few and far between, Micau trekked through the forest trying to forget of his own oddity, made difficult by unkind creatures.
Aadland was right. Micau soon saw the swarming sapphire embers flowing in a river of wind. The child’s eyes went wide at the spirits lit like beacons, gracefully curving between great trees. He went toward the lights with Aadland following him.
“How do you know they are spirits, Aadland?” Micau asked the wolf.
“They speak of times past. What else could they be?” He replied in his deep voice.
Micau took this into consideration. “Spirits.” Micau said to himself. “Could they not be fairies? Or what about birds, Aadland?”
“Fairies do not speak, child. How could they tell me stories without speaking? No. They are not fairies. And of birds?” The wolf’s tail flared pink. “How could sapphires of such beauty be anything like those terrible things? No – they are not birds.” Aadland said at Micau’s side.
“I would like to touch them.”
“So would I.” Aadland’s black eyes watched the spirits with the similar awe.
The boy stretched his white hand high above his head and the blue spirits curled around his fingers like wind weaving through tall grass.
“How does it feel?” The wolf asked.
“It feels like a hot spring that does not burn.”
“Please.” Aadland said. “Please bring one to me. They have always been too high to feel.”
Micau cupped his hand and ran it through the stream above. The spirits parted just like water. With his other white hand, he cupped a small handful of glowing spirits and brought them down to his companion.
Aadland rubbed his cold nose into Micau’s palm, petting the spirits, taking care not to break them – if they were a thing that could break.
“They are beautiful.” Aadland said. “Now let them return to their stream, Micau. It is important not to take. All things belong somewhere.”
Micau nodded and tried to bring the spirits back up. But he could not.
“Aadland. These spirits are so heavy!”
“Put them back, Micau. Do not play longer with them.”
The sapphire lights weighed Micau down, pressing deeply into his palms. “I cannot!” A pool of crimson filled Micau’s hands and his face twisted in agony.
The wolf’s black eyes went ferocious and his tail burst into a horrendous red. “Micau!” His yell tremored through the forest, shaking the very roots of the earth and shushing the voices of the murmuring creatures. Still the spirits weighed Micau down towards the ground, no amount of struggle could get them off. Horror laced Micau’s cry as the spirits crunched his hands between them and the ground. With a flash of his diamond teeth, Aadland thrashed into the spirits, spilling their azure insides from his jaw and tore them away. Micau fell and crawled behind Aadland.
The sapphire spirits limped into the air, dripping blue like trees after a rain. The wolf dared them. “Return to where you belong.” Aadland showed his terrifying teeth and whipped his red tail casting shadows in the dark forest.
Suddenly, the spirits split into two groups and flew on either side of Aadland. Micau stumbled to run away but the sapphires were faster, already around Aadland and almost at the boy.
“MICAU!” The wolf roared so greatly that trees were ripped from the ground and the swarm of spirits above their heads rippled away like leaves in a storm. Aadland burst into such a light that Micau could no longer see. In an instant, it was over.
Micau found himself in the damp emerald soil looking up at Aadland, the sapphire spirits clasped in his diamond teeth. With a single grunt, the wolf clenched his jaw and the spirits shattered. Aadland gulped them with satisfaction.
“Nothing will harm you while I watch.” The wolf said in its deep voice. “Come, leave these spirits.”
“Thank you, friend.” And for the first time Micau could remember, he reached out to pet Aadland’s head. It felt wrong to do this before, but now he wanted to thank the wolf. “Where will we go?”
The wolf smiled and began to speak. Instead, he howled in great pain. Micau fell to his knees and took Aadland’s face in his hands. “What is it? What’s the matter?”
The wolf fell and writhed on the ground. Micau could only watch as the wolf’s paws twisted, and red tail turned to soot, his eyes closed tight. Two bright lights appeared in Aadland’s stomach. Spirits.
“No!” Micau yelled out. “Out, you spirits! Leave my friend!”
“Aadland!” Micau shouted out. “Aadland, you must wake up! Those spirits tricked you!” The boy shook his wolf. But Aadland lay still. Micau dropped next to him trying to rub the spirits out. Aadland’s fur was damp.
When shouting failed to stir his friend and rubbing did nothing, Micau stood up and began to think. Aadland spoke once of wise elephants. Elephants that had a healing medicine able to cure any ailment. They lived by Selene Lake.
Micau made a sling with great haste, grabbing large leaves and vines from trees, then strapped the wolf onto his back for the journey.
Two days of journey passed before he found the healing elephants. Their large legs dipped in the calm waters of the lake, the smallest of them rolling in the shallows spraying water with its short trunk. Micau watched for just a moment. Another time he would’ve watched the massive beasts for hours, but this time he went straight to the largest elephant – a tree of a creature – and introduced himself.
“Micau? I’ve heard that name.” The largest elephant said, each word seemed to take a few moments longer than it should. Its trunk curled upright, trying to think where he had heard it.
“We’ve all heard that name.” Another said from the herd, taking longer still to speak its mind. “The whole world heard it not a few days past. Remember?”
“Oh yes. Micau!” The elephant roared with triumph. “Would you look at that! I remembered the lad’s name!”
Micau thought the elephant looked quite pleased with himself, but the large beast was fast to business.
“What is it you want, Micau?”
The boy quickly told them. He was seeking the wise elephants that knew of medicine to cure wounds and illness. He kept it short and did not tell them how Aadland came to be unwell.
The long words of elephants took patience for Micau. “Cure – with medicine?” The elephant wondered. “What a thought to have!”
“But Elephants first had that thought.” Micau stammered. He was sure Aadland told the stories of the first healer being one of their kind. Aadland spoke these tales as though he knew those wise elephants many years ago. And elephants lived for a great long while.
“Elephants! Your time at the lake is over.” A tiny voice bellowed from the grass.
The herd of elephants all turned their massive heads towards the small voice hidden in the green.
“Oh, come now.” The elephants said. “We’ve only wet out trunks. We must still drink.”
“You’ve wasted your time with your elephant doings. The rabbit that lives on the moon in the sky will get angry.”
The elephant tried to chuckle. “There is no such thing as sky.”
“What do you think is above the trees?”
“More trees, of course!”
“How wrong you are.” The voice replied.
This seemed to startle the elephants and they quickly circled into a herd. The youngest one still played joyfully in the water of the clear lake. Micau tried pushing his way into the group to hear their conversation. The thick legs were heavy to move and he could only hear low grunts and grumblings in the herd.
“Micau.” The small voice called to him, motioning the child over. “You’ll find no great knowledge with elephants.” Said the rabbit hiding in the dark grass. “They were not always so easily tricked.”
After a long elephant moment, the mother elephant harshly called the young calf back to the group.
“We will be back at our agreed upon time. The sky,” the king of the elephants said with a sneer. “does not frighten us. But we respect agreements made long ago. So long apparently only you remember.”
“To that, I have no doubts.” Said the rabbit. Micau watched the mighty elephants return to the deep forest, leaving behind only their monumental tracks on the grass.
“Rabbit – I don’t understand.” Micau said at last. “My companion told me of the wise elephants and the great puzzles they solved.”
“Your wolf friend has heard many stories.” The rabbit said with a twitching nose. “Perhaps he should learn not to heed truth to them all. Come, let me see what ills this gullible friend of yours.”
Micau knelt down. He brought the shoulders trap over his head and gently laid the wolf down on the grass. Even closed, his eyes glowed with the same sapphire as the spirits.
The rabbit hopped back when he saw the wolf and quickly asked Micau, “What is this wolf’s name?”
“Aadland.”
“Aadland,” The rabbit repeated. “And why shouldn’t it be, of course.”
Micau didn’t care about any games this rabbit had. He already showed himself to be a natural trickster when he fooled the elephants. “Please, just tell me what I can do.”
The rabbit took small steps forward and pressed his long ear onto the belly of the wolf. Its furry foot thumped with each beat of the wolf’s heart. Thump. The foot went. Thump, it went again a little softer. Thump.
“He will not drink?” The rabbit’s other ear turned towards the child.
“I cannot open his mouth.”
Thump
“No?” The rabbit eyed a sharp tooth peeking out from the wolf. “Perhaps that is for the best.” Thump. “Did I hear you correctly when you told those hideous elephants that the wolf – Aadland – had eaten spirits?” He said quietly, as though he trying not to stir the air.
“The spirits were attacking me.”
“Attacking you? How unreasonable.” Thump. “They only attack with good… reason.” The rabbit rose from the wolf’s chest. Micau didn’t like having the thump taken away. It was like having another conversation with Aadland.
“Tell me child – how did you become so pale in your skin?” The rabbit’s eyes narrowed.
“I don’t know.”
“No? How did you and the wolf come to be traveling companions?”
“He found me.”
“Found you – right.” The rabbit looked at the wolf and seemed to lose himself in thought. Micau wanted to grab Aadland and run for different help. Maybe the elderly turtle who corralled the lakes, or perhaps the many ants that molded the trees could help. Anyone but this rabbit. Aadland always said the forest was full of help for those who knew where to look – though full of danger for those foolish enough to ask. Finally, the furry creature cautiously said, “Aadland needs sky.” The rabbit clasped both front paws together, and the small voice cracked and rattled. “Aadland needs open sky. Do you understand? He’ll rise only then.”
Sky? Micau thought. Birds taunted the two of them about sky but Aadland doubted its existence, refusing to speak about it as though this sky had personally wronged him. Micau wanted nothing to do with those nasty birds and refused to listen. But there were too many rumors, Micau thought, for at least a speck of truth to be true. The journey to the turtle or great ant colony is far. Micau thought about of the rabbit’s thump.
“To the sky?”
“Far, far up the trees. It will take many hops, indeed.”
Micau began bundling Aadland back into the satchel. “Thank you, rabbit. I will take my friend to the sky.”
“See that you do.”
Micau wasn’t sure if rabbits could cry – but he thought the furry creature produced a small drop of sadness. Why? There was no time to pry.
With the wolf safely contained in the satchel, Micau began the climb. He chose a tree of thick bark, thick enough to grab and hoist himself up. Micau figured once he climbs high enough that he can use the many branches like stairs and simply walk to the sky.
Higher up, the trees took on more life than Micau could have ever imagined. Gone were the dark emeralds, in their place were bright and dark lights, violets and reds, pure blacks, livid blues, stark whites, and soft yellows. Moving things and planted things. Howling and crying and laughing. The world changed with every step higher. Soon Micau lost the ground below and had eyes only for the canopy above.
Then, the branches stirred like waves in water and the fine mist darkened. The colors ran inwards, fusing into dark, and the world was bleak. Micau hitched the satchel closer to his body as an uneasy feeling crept through his body. “Hello?” The boy asked. “Is that you, monkey? Or is it sloth waking from his nap?”
“It is neither monkey nor sloth, I’m afraid.”
Micau quickly turned towards the voice. “The fog is thick. I can’t see you.”
“Would it bring you comfort, Micau, if you laid your eyes on me?”
“Yes. Who am I speaking to?” The boy looked deeper into the mist, straining his eyes to find any shape or hint of the voice.
“Not many appreciate my looks.” The voice said.
“Nor do many mine.” The boy thought of the taunts he received.
“Do not sneer. It is a mistake made only once.” A cloaked figure emerged from the depths of the mist. Micau searched for its face but saw only blackness, an endless void where eyes should peer, a lost chasm where a frown should be placed. And hands of utter paleness. Micau hitched Aadland closer, looking at his own white hands.
“Pleased to meet you. I am a death. But do not fear, I am not here for you. I am only here for your friend.”
Thump thump.
Micau watched the figure float closer to him. He couldn’t outrun he figure, not when this death could float amongst the air. Something had to be done. The boy again eyed death’s white hands and found his rescue.
“How have your travels been, old friend?” Micau tried to say without much thought. “Mine have been fruitful.” He pointed to Aadland showing his pale hands.
“We’ve not yet met, boy.”
“No? Perhaps it was another death I met in travels. And do not call me boy. I am as you are.” Micau showed this death his white arms. “I am a death, though not long removed from home.”
“You are a death?”
“Yes.” Micau nodded his white head. “And, as you can plainly see, I have already claimed Aadland for my own.”
The death came closer. A chill raptured through Micau and he tried hard not to shiver. “You are a death?” It asked again.
“I am. Aadland is claimed.” The boy stated. “Find the next poor soul on your list.” Micau stared into the empty hood surrounded by mist, hoping he appeared confident enough.
The death floated in the forest air, branches and leaves began to curl into a dull brown, blackness and fragility soon crumpled the smallest greens. Micau stood his ground.
“You are a death.” It said, convinced at last. “Travel well.” It hissed.
Thump
“Travel well.” Micau repeated. Its black cloak turned and returned to the mist.
Micau fell to the branch below in exhaustion. His white palms were wet, as though they had been dipped into rabbit’s lake. It’s death for Aadland, Micau thought, unless I get him to the sky. With a deep breath, the boy again found his footing and began his climb again. Micau thought of the rabbit’s thump – it grew fainter in memory. The boy looked as high up as he could and still saw only the web of trees above. Even with death beaten, how long until a new death arrives? When was last Aadland had eaten? Or drank water? Maybe there was help, if not sympathy, amongst those birds.
Micau climbed to a nest of birds looking for help only for the mother to crow horrendous things at Micau, guarding eggs with her wings. He called out to birds flying between branches and acrobatically dodging vines – and still they ignored the boy. One black bird dove for Micau – he only managed not to get stabbed by its sharp beak by diving for another tree altogether. Vicious birds, Micau thought.
“Are no birds kind?” Micau called out into the forest. “Are there no birds kind enough to save a life?”
“Who’s asking?” A voice returned.
“Micau, on behalf of Aadland.”
“On behalf of?” The voice echoed amongst the trees.
“I need help getting him to the sky.” Micau admitted.
“To the sky?” The voice sounded closer to Micau. “What good comes from the sky?”
“It’s the only way to cure my friend.”
Large sounding wings flapped in the trees and Micau looked out for what might be coming. He had not any known birds to be terribly big. But this one sounded quite large.
“Aadland.” The voice considered. “Very well, I am tired.”
Eyes the size of Micau’s hands emerged from the shadows of mist. Wings stretched out longer than the boy, and talons grasped the trunk of the tree. Micau was amazed.
“What kind of bird are you?”
The looming feathered creature had a chest as though a boulder sat inside and an array of feathers that bled into the bark of trees. But large eyes. Large brown and black eyes in a head that swiveled on the body.
“What kind of boy are you?” The owl shook his head. “I am a great owl.”
Micau tried not to look at the long talons. “You can help?”
“Yes. I am tired. Now come, climb onto my back and I will take you to the sky.”
With the wolf perched on his back, the boy climbed on. Its feathers felt like serrated blades of grass, yet smooth to the touch. Micau dug deep at the roots – even giving it a quick tug to make sure they wouldn’t come out. The great owl said nothing until Micau was firmly in place. Without a word, the long wings extended beyond the branches and the owl lifted off with one fantastic flap of its feathered limbs.
Branches and vines flew by Micau’s head. All sorts of creatures he had no words for watched the owl take them higher and higher.
“How high up until the sky?” Micau asked.
“We have travels ahead, yet.” The great owl replied. And for hours they soared into the canopy, stopping three times for the great owl to rest. “I am very tired.” He would always say. Micau offered him time for sleep, but the owl shook his head. “Owls can only sleep in day. So few of us left.” He said, again lifting off from his perch.
Thump, thump
As the trio continue to soar higher, dodging all sorts of forest things, the owl’s head twitched, and the owl plunged and twisted. The boy hung tight as he was almost flung away.
Micau cried out. “What’s happening.”
“Crows!” It screeched.
Micau turned and a darkness enveloped the forest. Hundreds or thousands of black wings tore through the forest, ripping away the leaves and gnashing at the bark. It was an onslaught like nothing Micau had ever seen. “Faster, owl! We must fly swiftly!”
As the great owl pivoted around large trees, Micau stole a glace at the lead bird. It was enormous. Far larger than even great owl. Black wings swallowed all in its path. Atop the midnight black was the familiar cloak of darkness. Micau recognized it immediately. “Death chases us, great owl!”
“Death at last!” Cried the owl. “Death to trick and hide!” With incredible precision the great owl lunged between mammoth trunks and fine lines of vines. Around swarms of insects and fallen branches. With every twist or turn the murder grew less and less. But still death rode on. Riding until it was within arm’s length of the boy and his wolf.
“Micau. You can run no longer.” It hissed through its shapeless face.
“Great owl!” Micau yelled into the wind. “We must reach the canopy!”
“Yes, Micau! Jump from my back! Reach for the highest tree you can, now!” The great owl bent its back and launched the boy with the wolf strapped to his back into the air. Micau never stopped looking up, searching for any branch to grab as he came nearer to the top. He reached out and grabbed a vine hanging in the canopy. Once he had he grip, he looked up to see a flat layer of leaves. Nothing hung above.
The boy scrambled up and up, jumping from limb to limb. For a moment he looked below. Blackness everywhere. The great owl had fallen. He was very tired, the boy thought.
Thump
One last great lunge with the black flapping horrendous sounds, Micau broke through the top of the canopy. Every part of the forest was below him and the crows dared not to follow into these strange lands. All the sounds and color and life was below. Above – and now all around – was a silence he had never known.
“Aadland.” Micau said. “My friend. Look at this!” The boy looked above at orange and yellow lights shimmering in the sky above. And not only those, but blues and reds and hints of green. Tiny specks so brilliant they could contain all the forest themselves.
Thump Thump
Micau gasped. A fantastic cloud, faint and distant, covered the center of the sky like an elegant river. Sweeping into it more incredible hues against the utter black behind it.
Micau nudged at the wolf, “We made it, Aadland. The rabbit said you’ll rise at the sky.”
The boy unstrapped his satchel and laid the wolf across the tree tops. His orange fur shone as the lights did above. His burnt tail began again to softly glow. “It’s time to wake, my friend.”
Aadland’s eyes opened and looked at the boy. Micau smiled and spread his hands across the wolf.
“Micau! You brought me here?”
The boy smiled, nodding his head.
“Who…” The wolf trailed off and said no more.
The tail’s soft glow left the wolf and rose high, leaving behind a cold, charred body. It looked just like a spirit.
Aadland! Aadland! The rabbit said you’d become better!” Tears clouded his sight, yet even through blurred eyes Micau saw the spirit burst into such a bright light that he covered his eyes.
The light went higher and Micau, still shielding his eyes, looked at the horizon. There he saw rabbit painted on a white ball.
“When they left, the world grew dark and cold. For who could live without the Sun and Moon?” Micau jumped at the sudden voice next to him. But it was the familiar shape of death. “Now that you brought Aadland home, he will see everything and live to tell their stories. He is the sun. Rabbit, moon.”
The old fables, Micau realized, were true. Aadland saw them all then told them to him.
“Micau.” The cloak said. “You are a death. Living things are frightened by you. Surely you had noticed. Living things close to death warmed to you. But your purpose is fulfilled. And a mighty purpose it was.” He laid a cold hand on the boy’s shoulder, and Micau watched Aadland go dim. But it wasn’t the wolf fading away. Micau went limp and fell backwards.
Through the canopy and the colors, passed the crows and sloths, shades and sounds flashed back, and finally through the sapphire spirits Micau thudded to the damp ground. There the boy lay. Slowly the sapphire embers fell onto Micau, digging him deeper and deeper into the earth below. To bury the death once and for all.
As the body was forced into the ground, a beam of fantastic sunlight erupted from the sky above. A light unlike anything seen for lifetimes. The sapphires erupted into flame, disappearing in a thousand sparks.
There Micau remained. Through time, leaves began to fall giving the boy a rightful grave. Nothing shall hurt you while I watch.
Thump
The New Martian 