Emiliano Bombieri-Morales 53 Bisenacher Strasse Berlin, 10823 (646) 266-4643 emilionsar20@ gmail.com Word Count: 1,440 Solace in the Void Skal eyed the newcomer absent mindedly, noting the shiver that wracked the young man’s body, his fearful eyes transfixed on the glowing tower, as if his only salvation lay in that warm guiding presence. The man had arrived at seven bells by Skal’s time. He knew that to most people that meant chirping birds, the rising sun, day. But in the vastness of Abyss it just meant breakfast. Something clicked in the distance and the man looked sharply in the direction of the sound. He stared intently into the darkness, his bag clutched tightly to his chest. After a moment the man seemed to relax. Jostled from his luminescent hypnosis he looked down the stretch of the road where another beacon was just barely visible. The young man hadn't said a single word upon arrival. That wasn’t unusual Skal knew. Most pilgrims who crossed Abyss were often affected by the pitch black, by the fear of falling from the path. Knowing that they could lose their way with the smallest deviation, leaving them stranded in the fears of their own imagination.Skal had figured that this man had broken somewhere along the way, maybe the sixth stop, perhaps even sooner. Skal could see the overwhelming terror in his eyes as he got to his feet, lantern in hand and shakily began to move to the edge of darkness. “ wouldn't do that if I were you, not if you've been trekking for as long as I think you have. You take one step in that stuff without proper rest and it'll eat you alive.” The man looked over at Skal with wide eyes, as if noting the hermit's presence for the first time. He said nothing, gripped the lantern tightly, and turned back towards the distance beacon. “Suit yourself.” Skal pulled out a worn brown leather journal from which he read the sermon passed down to him by the previous caretaker, some words of comfort, his master had always said. Skal could hear the man’s sobbs as the darkness swallowed him and his little light whole. At fourteen bells Skal heard the sound of scuffling feet moving double time, and when he looked to the west a large group of people seemed to materialize through the curtain of blackness. Skal judged them to be about two dozen. He frowned. The stew he'd started making was barely enough to feed them all, let alone himself. He'd never seen so many at once before. Leading the pack was a tall man, well built with a long brown beard that covered his face. At a glance one might not even know, butSkal had seen too many like him. Strong men that hid their fatigue and plagued minds behind a sturdy body. It’s the eyes that give it away. “Are you the tower master here?” “Lam.” The man dropped his sack and walked over to Skal while the rest of the group shuffled over to the beacon and collapsed on the ground. “My name is Feitan, we appreciate your hospitality and anything you have to offer.” “There's a lot of you,” Skal ignored Feitan's comment, looking at the group sitting around his tower, “It will be small portions of stew. But what I have is yours.” “Thank you.” “Don't, it’s my duty, nothing more.” The hermit's hut was nothing short of plain. On one side was his bed and asmall wardrobe and in the middle of the hut was a pit that exposed the rough ground. Over the pit hung,a large pot where Skal did all of his cooking. The members of the party filed in, their feet dragging, bruised and battered. Most people had a hard time adjusting to the light, but some suffered more than others. One boy seemed to stare off past his bowl, his pupils nearly covering the entirety of his iris’. The boy thanked Skal as tears dripped into his bowl. After everyone had been served Skal limped over to the circle, stroking the guide book on the inside of his jacket. He sat down next to Feitan whose eyes were fixed on the glowing light, his face drawn. “What's the news from the west?”Feitan raised his brow, “The tower masters don't receive reports?” “Non affiliates,” Skal slowly lowered himself onto the ground next to Feitan, “Signal can’t travel here, and no one wants to come all this way just for news.” “You might think differently if you knew.” Skal shrugged, “Perhaps, makes no real difference to me. This place is a world in and of itself.” “Yes. I suppose it is,” Feitan turned towards the light, but his eyes darkened. “The Alayan treaty has been broken. The great houses war against one another. Now the water runs black and foul. The crops have all but burned in the chaos. And every day there is less of everything. We tried to convince as many as we could that Abyss was the only way to safety,” Feitan shook his head, “but for many it is a long road, too long to bear. People hear stories about this place. It’s enough to keep a man cowering in his own hut, even as it burns.” “I see,” Skal nodded, more with understanding than sympathy, “So I take it more will be coming?” “I'm not sure,” Feitan shook his head, “The generators are being dismantled, and the first two towers have already started to fade. When all the lights go out, it will be impossible to cross. You should come with us, while you still can.” Skal nodded, and looked towards the light that shielded them from the darkness, his hand stroking the journal.“T've been stationed here for as long as I can remember. My own teacher taught me the importance of the way. The burden we hermits bear in our solitude. But you see, while it is the light that guides us, itis the void that we must accept with open arms, for we were born in the dark, and it is that which sets us free. If all there was in the world was the warm glow of the light, we would be blinded to the path.” “You'd stay here to die alone?” For the first time in a long time Skal smiled, “We all die alone.” Feitan shook his head and stood. His people had already begun to ready their things, donning large cloaks around their bodies, and wrapping their feet in fresh cloth to fend off the gravel and dirt. “] thankyou for the food, but we must be going.” “As you wish.” Skal pulled out his journal and began to recite the sermon, watching as one by one the group vanished through the black curtain. Weeks passed as more and more of the pilgrims ventured passed Skal’s little hut. One day when Skal awoke from his stiff mattress and stepped outside he noticed that no one was there, and when he looked west he saw no tower in the distance. He stepped onto the cold gravel that crunched beneath his fect and noted the dim, waning light that cascaded from his own charge. The tower was fading, and the darkness had started to creep in closer to his small hut. Instinctively he reached inside his jacket for the journal then stopped. He smiled and began to recite the words from memory.“In darkness we find the light, in the light we find salvation, and through salvation we find peace. Let it be known that you who bear the burden of solitude exist on the border of the two, between light and dark.” Thetower flickered, enveloping Skal in the pitch black for just a moment. He looked up and stared at the large glowing object. It flickered again. “Find peace in the light,” The tower flickered more violently. “Find solace in the void.” Skal finished the recitation, closing his. eyes as the light behind his lids grew flickered on and off until it went out completely. ‘When he opened his eyes he found no change. Before him he saw black. He took the journal from his pocket and gently placed it on the ground at the foot of the tower. He heard the soft whisper of the wind, thecrackle of rocks as he shuffled his feet and small animals that scuttled in the distance. Skal felt unafraid in Abyss’s dark embrace, and with the comforting words of the sermon he turned his feet east and began to walk.