City of Sun

Chapter 1

“It’s hot and I’m tired,” I say exasperated, exhaustion creeping into my vision like little black worms wishing to nibble on the inside of my brain until every last string of sanity is gone (and trust me I don't have much of that left). I try to refocus, count my steps below me. One. The golden flecks of sand bite at my sore feet. Two. Sand, and sand, and sand. For miles, miles that I have left to walk. Miles that appear to be taking years off my life. Three. Almost worse than the miles of sand left to go is the constant light, the light that burns my every fiber, the light that sucks all of the water out of me with no remorse. The same light I cannot live without. How sick is that? Four. I’ve seen the effects of what no light can do to a creature firsthand. Dark and twisted sickly beings, once so full of life and of the wonder that comes with it, now drained until the very last drop of it was buried deep within. Five. It’s not as if I haven’t seen worse, there’s always worse. Just when you think “yep that’s it, that’s as bad as it can get. I have seen it all'' Something comes. And as always, of course, someone expects you to fix it.

“It’s not that much further.”

I look up towards the direction of the ice-cold voice. Pip is always like that, stone faced, quiet, collected. They don’t tend to talk much; I’m surprised he even deemed my bickering worthy of a response. Squinting I try to make out their blurred figure, he seems smaller than usual, more condensed? Perhaps the heat is getting to them too? Of course, it could just be my vision, after all. Plus, it’d be a lie if I said I didn't wish someone else was suffering with me. It’s never fun to think you're alone. I wait to see if there’s more to be said…I am greeted with silence.

“You know, I wouldn’t have come if I knew this was going to take ages. I’ll be at least 10 years older before we’re through with this.”

He turns to me, expressionless, “And I wouldn’t have brought you if I knew you were going to throw a tantrum like a small orglion child.”

I scoff at that. Orglion are usually calm creatures, but their children are routy and impressively large. They stand at around 5ft before they reach the age of twelve, and their vocal systems are some of the most impressive I’ve ever seen. They’re songs can be heard as far as 13 miles away, and that’s with human ears. I am incapable of coming even close to the cries of an orglion child, and Pip knows this. I smile to myself; I know that he’s only teasing me. Pip wouldn’t make such a harsh statement if they weren't. Before I even realize I have slowed, Pip calls out behind themself, “Hurry now little one, try to keep up.”

I swallow, trying to ignore the ache of my bones and the spiraling spinning lines, and start counting.

Fifty-seven. I don’t know how long it’s been. I’m not sure I even care. I’m on my third set of numbers. Fifty-eight. Numbers. Fifty-eight since I lost my place. Fifty-nine. It’s all I can do to hold on. Sixty. Why have I done this? Why did I insist on coming? Pip had always said the City of Sun was dangerous. I was so bored, how I long for that sweet taste of boredom now. For the familiarity, the comfortability of knowing what the day was going to look like, what I was going to do, where I would eat, and oh what I would drink. How I long to savor such delightful fresh flavors, the largest glass of water I could manage and my bed, soft and dependable, ready to hold my burning skin and soothe me into a sleep as peaceful as the unmoving ocean. My pace quickens at the thought of how soon I could be out of this hellscape.

As close to a run I can manage, I fly past Pip and through the sand. It feels almost freeing to feel a small breeze on my face, barely there. Yet noticeable after almost a week without the wind I'm used to.

When I mentioned the lack of wind to Pip, he told me to be grateful, “The more wind there is, the more sand in the air. Better we have none than a storm clouding our visions and draining our own light.” I remember my response to well, “As if my light could fade at the sight of a storm”

“Ha, sometimes I forget how cocky you can be, little one.” I smiled at that. It felt good that I had made them laugh, even if it was at me.

“Keep in mind you are as foreign to this land as it is to you, it sees you as a creature of the dark. Though we both shine, yours is the flickering of stars. Dancing in the sky, bright and cheerful, healing. This land’s full of a fierce light. The burn of fire, the same burn of war. That is why it never sleeps, it is too busy searching for threats, and then eliminating them.” His words shook me, but what really made my bones quake was that while he was speaking, I was staring into his pitch-black eyes, designed for the dark. My eyes traveled to their gray skin and soft features, designed by the stars themselves to bring comfort and to hide. He looked like he belonged to the night. That scared me far more than I ever dared to speak.

“Avalon.”

I freeze. The familiar cold voice shocked me out of my memories. Pip only uses that name, my name, when I’m in trouble. Deep trouble.

“We’re here.” He slowly joins my side, a frown upon his face. “You know what would've happened if you crossed without me?”

I look down after realizing my almost death. “I would have almost definitely lost the trial. I have no way to prove I am here to learn if I enter alone, with no supplies and no mentor.” My tongue feels as dry as a sunbaked leaf, and my brain as slow as a Slegosair.

“Good. Whatever made you have such a sudden burst?” He’s still frowning.

“My eagerness.” I allow a soft smile to brighten my face. I mean why wouldn’t I? This isn’t a lie. It’s part of the truth, I’m just not sharing how much I miss home.

“It is always about swiftness with you, little one. Now come, we have work to do inside,” His frown leaves, replaced by calm apathy once more. I try not to sigh a breath of relief as I take their hand and we make our way up to the gate. Which is still quite far, Pip wouldn’t have let me put myself in harm's way. He knew to stop me before I reached even 20ft within reach of the aura. I know what he would say if I asked, “Just because you are not my blood, does not mean I do not care for you.” He’s said it on many occasions. When the other children back home would make fun of me, tell me I was only loved out of obligation. It was comforting, but it was never said with a face full of emotion.

Soon we drew close enough that even with my vision, anyone could see how bright and beautiful it was. Even if it hurts, you cannot deny how the sight of it makes you want to burn. Glowing with the light of at least ten stars, but never fading. Gold and silver at once, big and extravagant yet somehow modest, as if they change to fit your every whim. Fulfilling your deepest material desires, promising you sweet lies. Allowing you to linger on such, and drawing you closer. In some tales, the city lures you in, fulfilling the desires it promised you at the gate forever, as long as you trade something precious. Be that your life, or gold. Usually the tales claim that you must give up your own light, so the city’s may grow brighter. Your drive, your lifeforce sacrificed for an eternity of fulfillment. Could you truly be fulfilled if you no longer desire for anything? In others, the gate bargains for your light, making you enticing offers filled with deceit and loopholes. Say you ask to live for as long as the day, in the city you will live eternally for the day never ends, but if you leave the desert where the city rests you shall perish. Deceit and false promises laces each breath the city exhales, all to convince its citizens to become what it needs most, food.

I kneel next to Pip, and I try to focus on slowing my breath.

“Great city, I once again ask for entry into your wonders. I wish not for gold, or pleasure. I have no desire for romance, I need no one to warm my sheets, I have plenty of food and I do not wish to eat anything more exotic or flavorful. I have all that I truly desire, all I could ever need. My only wish is for me and this child to enter and leave your hold unharmed and whole. If you grant my access I will do nothing other than treat your sickness in trade for my safety, and their rare medicines. This is all I ask.” Pip's eyes are closed, his head to the ground. As collected as I have ever seen him, though his grip on my hand is tight and unforgiving.

“Ah the doctor. Are you as devoid of desire as you claim? Perhaps this time I could tempt you?” I can almost feel the air of joy, a joy you can only get from the type of pranks you play as a small child, the ring of laughter following you as you write a secret with your guardian's coal, a secret you aren’t supposed to know. The voice makes me want to laugh too, it makes me want to know what secret is so funny…

“Sweet child, do you desire? Do you dream of anything? I am able to provide, after all your caregiver doesn’t control your voice, do you wish for your belly to never empty? I can see your quite hungry.” My mind dances, I think of oranges and their sweet tang. I think of the Golden apple, said to be the most delicious thing you could ever eat. The most delicious thing in all the world, only found in the city of light. “You could taste what all wish they could taste; you could know all that the world wants to know. You could surpass the oldest wisest elder from your village, you could prove your worthy.” I swallow hard, I can almost taste it. All I have to do is say so and wish. I want to…worms. The apple is nothing but worms, the city is nothing but false illusions, unfulfilled wishes. Deceit and trickery. A more advanced sort of mischief that children play with before maturity. It is nothing. And I do not long for nothing.

“I desire to travel safely through the city with my mentor.” I say, willing the words into existence.

“Pity, you would have made such a nice addition to the city child. Perhaps your mind will change in due time, for now I will allow you to heal my sickness and to participate in a portion of what could be yours. You may enter.” The gate swings open snickering as it does, almost mocking my refusal as though it knows better. Pip pulls me to my feet. I’m not sure if he heard what the gate offered me, though I heard Pip’s opening statement. I mean I’m not sure if the gate showed him wonders in his mind as it did in mine, privately.

Back on my feet, Pip’s hand still in mine, I ready myself to enter The City of Light.