Her voice is small, but the weight of it crashes through me.
I glance ahead into the light of promise. It looks solid. Real. But so does a mirage to a dying man.
And now, with her words echoing in my ears, I can't tell if I'm standing at the gates of Paradise… or the edge of a lie carved by something that knows how to mimic Heaven.
However, the simplicity of it all remains so much more elusive. Like water to the parched. Or sight to a blind man. I can't see. Therefore, those cherry blossom leaves of pink. Rushing falls of noble silver. This bastion of color that appears before my eyes… is a lie…
"Be my eyes?"
"There's nothing to look at," she says, quiet after a pause, but firm. "It's all just one big hole in the ground. And if you take one more step, you'll fall."
All of a sudden, I feel the emptiness under my bare foot. Like jolting awake from a dream as you're about to fall asleep. You're falling, my body tells me. If you take one step forward, you will never stop falling.
And somehow, somehow, against the booms of trepidation drumming within my chest. And though it rattles my bones and stills my breath, I still the shiver rising in my exposed spine. Like a pendulum manner of back and forth, I feel the child's shivers counteracting mine, and manage to pull myself back with a strength that comes from weakness.
Then, we collapse backward.
The falls rush in the ear, but only now do I hear the silence.
Water falls, but it falls forever. There is nothing here to catch or bring the downward pull to an end.
Breathing ragged, us two choke on a shared breath. She, from fear. And he, from disbelief. I almost… I gave up on my destiny to this world, and it was a child who pulled me from the edge. Though the body sit on solid ground, I fear the face has slipped over the edge.
The color doesn't vanish. They burn brighter, every leaf containing an intricate web of breath that illuminates the darkness in my mind. I still want it. I want it so badly I could cry. I would cry… if I had any water over the past few days.
[The worst thing in life isn't silence in response to your prayers. The only miracle a man should ask for is that the world keeps moving after his death.
This world is difficult enough without us making it hard for ourselves and for each other. The more one tries to study the whims of the darkness, the more they succumb to darkness, themselves.
The only thing I've come to ask of The Heavens is that they're not cruel enough to give me hope.
Yet still, they thought my shoulders bare.
There's always a horrible sinking in your stomach coming back from a hunt. You don't know what kind of horror is waiting for you in the comfort of your own village. Perhaps someone got and let another you through the gates._
When my mother came to greet me, I felt like I was falling.
As a father, it's all too natural for the tongue to twist itself into a promise upon first hold. Something along the lines of happiness in a not-so-distant dream. Seeing your tiny face, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. This world is so cruel and so unchanging in its ways that the last thing I wanted for my child was to be born. That's why I couldn't make a promise to you back then. But now that this life is coming to an end, I almost feel as if I owe us some stake in that foolish exchange.
No matter how bad this world appears to be, it is essential you know this…]
"It only gets worse, son. I promise," I say to nothing.
Sometimes, I still hear the silence of that room when his sword ran through his chest.
I… am tired.
My head lolls to the side. I care not if it hits solid ground.
Bony arms catch and pull my head into a tiny warmth. Her babbles would be nothing over the silence of the roaring falls. "On the first night in the forest, I saw a star," she coughs. "Grandpa told me it was just a dream, but I saw it. And it was falling, too."
"That's how come I kept looking at you. You're always the last one to go to sleep, so I wanted to ask if you saw it with me."
Of course not. Such fantastical things are folklore at most, not mentioned or implied in the holy text. Besides, even if they were, I would be the last person who would have "seen" it.
Again, the young girl coughs and giggles weakly. "Oh, right. I guess not."
Another blind joke. Indeed, the apple does not fall far from the tree. If she knew my father, I'd think she was talking about the light that tore across the sky the night my brother was
"Oh, Solvanel. It was so shiny and beautiful!" she says, her voice bright with memory. "I followed it out of the clearing and got cut up pretty bad by some red vines… but I'd do anything to see it again."
A pause follows, the kind that feels too big for someone her size.
"I might not be blind like you, but my life isn't all that colorful either."
Head on her lap, I can feel the tearful shivers that threaten to interrupt. "At least you're important enough for the mercenaries to hate you. Up until this morning, they didn't even see me at all."
Her voice dips, quieter now. Not bitter. Just matter-of-fact.
"And because of your destiny, you'll get to experience all kinds of cool things. You'll be a hero who saves everybody."
She stares ahead, into nothing.
"But me?" She shrugs. "I'll just keep living and dying like some nobody."
"When I asked my grandfather why nobody stood up for you when the killers were beating you up, he said they already did."
A silent chuckle escapes through my teeth. "Did they, now?"
"No, really! They showed me the scars and everything," she insists, eyes wide with conviction. "They said every single one of them had a time when they were hurt by something bigger and stronger than them. That they either had to give up and stop fighting... or smile and pretend to enjoy it. Like me."
Some self-sourced hay to quiet the sheep.
"But even though you're not big or fast or strong... You haven't smiled once since we started this journey."
A pause.
"I used to think you were just different from the rest of us."
I am.
She leans in slightly, like she's about to share a secret meant only for us two to keep. "But it turns out, you're scared, too."
"But you know what, Solvanel? I think your name is even more beautiful than that star." The falls continue to roar in the distance, muffled now. "Because you'll do whatever it takes to make that dream come true."
"I never got to have a dream. So I told myself I was satisfied just by seeing the star."
Her voice lowers, barely more than breath.
"But really… I was afraid that my wish would make it disappear.
"It's pretty late for it now… but I think I'll make a wish after all." She gazes down at me, eyes burning into my skin with something more useless than hope. "And I want you to make one too, okay?"
For the first time, the little lamb has captured my full attention. Curious, I find myself wondering what her wish could be.
Will she wish for salvation?
Money? Power? Revenge against those who stepped on her shadow her whole life? Or maybe to satisfy her self-absorbed desire to be seen.
With something as powerful as a wish… something that, in theory, could change the very shape of the world, how could it not bend under the weight of human desire?
Even a child. Even her.
I want to believe she's different. That her wish is pure.
But I have seen too much.
I fear that she, too, will not be exempt.
"I wish you could get to see this one day."
Fewer stories are more pitiful than this. Making up stories in your head to paint the world a brighter hue. Of all the things to imagine, it is so much like a child to make up something that does not exist.
There are no words to thank someone for nothing. Yet somewhere, deep in my heart, I'm touched that she would waste her only star on me. She never gave me the chance to.
For she would only open her lips again and ask, "What about you?"
Blasphemy.
I can't.
My throat tightens. My tongue won't move. My grandmother never liked the idea of stars. The one time I spoke of them, she threatened to soap my tongue. They are a sin against everything we believe in. What more could man want than that which the heavens provide? And who dare he ask but the heavens themselves?
Others may have the privilege of disrespecting The Gods, but not me.
Not the shepherd.
I cannot afford to encourage, nor participate in, such wastes of time. That's exactly what I intend to so. And so I open my mouth to give her silence. Or a warning. Or even better, a sermon…
"I wish I wasn't alone."
A soft whimper is cut short by a jolt that runs through her body, like a sudden straightening of the spine. The girl, who was seemingly on the verge of a breakdown, coughs harshly, splashing my cheek with mucus and spit.
Slowly, she pushes me away.
Rising to her feet, she tells me what I already know. "You have to go back."
"You are sick," I rise to my feet, telling her what she already knows. "I will not leave you here alone."
"No, Solvanel!" she says evenly. Something in her demeanor has changed, a shift in the pattern of her flame, but even my eyes can't quite see through. "What about your dream? What about your destiny? You're going to save everybody, remember? You can't stay with me because you promised!"
I step forward. "That includes you."
But the little girl shakes her head. She places a hand on my chest with little strength behind it. Yet still I stop. "Listen, Solvanel. Can't you see?" she asks. "I'm already saved."
For a moment, I am stunned.
She pushes me away and returns to the edge of the falls. "Because of you, I got to have a dream and I get to see this beautiful view."
The wind catches her voice, light as breath. "I don't care what anybody else thinks, Solvanel. You are the light that fell from the heavens. There's no way you'll die before seeing your dreams come true. So when you come back from fulfilling your destiny, I'll be waiting right here."
I don't respond.
The promise should not be particularly meaningful, but before I know it, I've already turned. Already walking.