Night Swimming

Silas walked through the forest on his way out of High Kingdom. He was nervous, and it was getting late; already, the light was fading, and as he walked amongst the trees, he felt pinpricks rising up his back.

The excitement of the journey was gone, replaced by paranoia and terror. How had it come to this so quickly?

His mother had long told him of her time in these woods, her joyous childhood memories chasing her friends around and braiding hair with pine needles woven through the strands.

But that was her life, her experiences. Silas had no such friends, no friends at all, really. All he had was a dream, a desire for freedom from the dirty streets of the kingdom.

But now that he was finally out, he was finding that maybe he wasn’t such a good traveler after all.

Maybe he should turn back. Run back.

His breathing became heavy with every moment that passed, and soon he found himself so frightened of the dark that he couldn’t breathe at all. He leaned up against a tree, trying to catch his breath; it was as if he’d just run a far distance, no longer capable of speech.

He was just starting to move again, just starting to quit, when he saw it. A light was beaming through the trees, and he frowned, not understanding. It wasn’t the fading sun; it was something bigger than that, even brighter.

Then, as he held one hand up to shield his eyes from the light, he saw it. It didn’t make sense, what he was seeing, and he shook his head, trying to rid himself of what was certainly a manifestation of insanity. He was just getting ready to run when he heard a booming voice echo through the night.

“Silas!” the voice said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Something impossible appeared: a fish as big as a house was floating through the trees on his way toward Silas, his giant eyes glowing in the darkness.

Silas didn’t know what to do, but he was so in awe of what he was seeing that he was frozen on the spot. He’d heard about these huge animals before in stories his mother had told him. He shouldn’t have been frightened now, but he was. Silas had no magic, no defense. What if she’d been wrong?

The great fish floated around him in a wide circle, and droplets of a blue liquid began to seep from his scales, splashing against the forest floor. One droplet almost fell directly onto Silas’s head, and he reached his arms up to shield himself.

The surprise came when the orb of liquid stopped before it hit him and hung in midair, round and glowing and perfect. He looked up, surprised to find it hovering above him. He didn’t dare put his arms down; instead, he pushed them forward, the glowing orb following the movements of his hands.

Suddenly, he didn’t feel frightened anymore.

“Silas,” the fish said, impossibly huge and impossibly dry. “You have friends in these woods. It is my job to ensure you make it through without harm.”

“Friends?” he asked.

“Your mother; she was a blessing to this place. She is a blessing to all places. The connections she made as a girl have not been forgotten. Now, do not be afraid. You can control the Light.”

“But I don’t have magic,” Silas said, despair thick in his voice. He let his hands drop to his sides, and the orb of liquid splattered in front of him.

The fish laughed, but it was not an unkind laugh. “One need not have magic to enjoy the Light I guard in this place, deep in the wood. Try again.” And the fish let another enormous droplet fall from its scales to hover just above Silas’s head.

This time, he was ready. He knew he didn’t have magic, knew he was probably in the worst danger of his life, but he held his hands out anyway, and the orb stopped before it splashed over his head.

Silas’s mouth opened as if to speak, but he was so awed by the powerful magic he was now using that he couldn’t get any words out. Instead, he did something inexplicable: he began to play. He let his arms raise up, then fall forward, then up again, and as he did so, the Light followed his movements until he was practically dancing with it, a game. Despite his fear, a smile spread wide across his face.

“Ah, that is good,” the fish said. “Your mother made many-a-friend in this place years back. You fear being hunted by unseen monsters, but in fact, you are not alone. You are among friends, for any child so pure as Thea could do nothing more than bring out the goodness in the trees. It is because of her that I may swim again, though my home is far, far from here. Her magic brought with it the ability to heal not wounds but souls. Take rest now. The morning will come before you know it.”

The fish began to turn away, swimming impossibly into the night.

“Wait!” Silas called, but the fish did not turn around. With great regret, Silas watched him as he wound his way through the trunks, his great fins moving as if he were swimming through water.

“Rest well, Silas,” he called out, and he disappeared into the depths of the forest.

But the Light remained above Silas’s head. Carefully, he lowered his hands to the ground, and he found that the orb did not burst as the others had. Perhaps it was the care that he brought to the thing, the desire to keep it whole. He sat down across from it, studying it, and despite himself, he found that his eyelids were growing heavy. He leaned back against a nearby tree, something that had looked so gnarled and frightening only…how long had it been? Minutes? Hours? It didn’t seem to matter. And when he finally could no longer keep his eyes open, when he finally slumped down against the tree, he remembered only the kindness of the beast who had taught him, in this most frightening place, to dance with magic.

He hoped he would remember it in the morning. He hoped that he would remember it forever.

 <<<<< >>>>>

 Thank you for reading. Visit Ream for more in the Light Chaser Universe: https://reamstories.com/page/ld0fcu0qn1/public