Ray - Warmth (1)

A warm light wrapped around Ray, shielding her from worry, from grief and from shock. She felt only faintly the shadows of her own dark thoughts, her accusations and curses against herself and against the Dream, which had torn this explosive power out of her.

Why had it been her who brought the Sun? Why couldn’t it have happened earlier? Then she might have simply walked on at the sight of the radiant star, full of strength and confidence. Now… Elga was gone, pulverized, vanished.

Ray knew she had awakened someone again; this time it had not been to protect anyone. No — it had been her lack of control. She couldn’t blame anyone else.

At the edge of her mind she felt the darkness those thoughts stirred. Again. Why couldn’t she live without this fear of the dark? Why did something always have to happen that drove her back into the deepest black?

Still, she had the light. She had more light than probably anyone else. She had brought the sun. The price had been Elga’s existence in the Dream, at least for now. Because maybe, perhaps, Elga would truly return one day.

Bathing in that inner light, Ray swore she would find the place Elga had dreamed of.

And if I don’t find it, I’ll create it myself.

The thoughts returned: Elga, the Sun, her guilt, the light, the darkness pressing down on her. Whenever the fear grew too strong and worry closed in, she could retreat into the kindness of the radiant circle and drift upward into her mind. She was endlessly grateful for the symbol’s revelation, another thing she owed to Elga.

When Ray dwelled deep within herself, overwhelmed by all that had happened, she sometimes wondered what was going on outside. For what felt like an eternity nothing reached her. Then at some point she felt lightness again, and the light within her pulsed in rhythm with an unfamiliar melody that seemed almost transcendent, even though she could not hear its notes. Memories of Demoa scattered into her light, and she felt calmer. Ray was glad for that, yet soon she was alone again in silence, leaping from fragment to fragment of thought like someone hopping over stones in a stream to reach the far bank.

Only… what was on the other side?

The circle, the light — that was her goal.

She would bring the realm a new era, one in which people could look forward and flourish beneath the radiant Sun and the reverent moon. She would make the Dream even more beautiful than it already was. No more darkness, no more grief, no more guilt or doubt, so everyone could live as they wished.

Once again she felt how wonderfully the radiant circle kept all dark at bay, forming an unshakable bastion she was slowly beginning to expand. Every thought of a brighter, better future in the Dream — of endless time with Dio, relaxed and happy, of carefree days and bliss — was a new stone in her stronghold against the black. She grew more certain; her fortress thickened, and the end of her inward journey drew nearer.

Am I that person? Someone who brings the light, who destroys the darkness and improves the world? Will I fill this Dream with wonders and bring people hope, joy and peace? Carefreeness…? Yes, I will. I think that’s who I am… something like that.

Those thoughts soothed and strengthened her, even though the negativity remained, battering her walls. Still, they held. The light was with her.

“…not much farther, almost there…”

Words slowly found their way to her, distant but unmistakably spoken by Eri. Slowly Ray began to drift out of her inner space, leaving her private thoughts and finally returning to the Dream. At least now she knew what she wanted to do. It would be hard; she would fight the darkness.

Inside me. And outside.

“…told you… should never have left her behind…”

“What… what’s going on… Where am I?” Ray felt heavy, infinitely heavy. 

Inside herself she had been weightless, but now she felt something pressing into her back, prickly rather than gentle. Her eyes had to adjust, so she blinked repeatedly to get used to the light streaming down from the sky.

“She… By the Sun, she’s awake again… blessed be the Light!” said a deep voice.

Olver? Or Sars? She had hardly heard the two, so she could not tell them apart.

Groaning, she pushed herself upright. The air was damp, and her hands sank into grass or hay. Three fuzzy shapes sat nearby, one red, the others brownish: Eri, Sars, and Olver.

“Sparky, how are you feeling?” asked the Pilgrim, his voice unusually gentle. His eyes, though, shone with something more than concern — a fervor that unsettled her.

“I… I need a moment to collect myself, please.” Ray shielded her face from the Sun and, after a few more blinks, she could see more clearly.

She sat in a meadow of purple flowers, alive with yellow-striped insects that hummed faintly in her ears and a sweet scent of nectar rose to her nose. Above her, the Sun shone at its zenith. Around her, the three men sat, pale and concerned. They had simply sat down in the grass, but Ray noticed that she had been laid in a makeshift bed of thick hay.

“I… Why are you looking so…” Ray tilted her head in confusion. Something was wrong, and then she gasped. “Where is Demoa?”

Eri only stared without answering, though his lips twitched and his black beard seemed to tremble.

“Sparky… I… we… she…” he stammered, swallowing hard with anger.

His eyes drifted away from hers and his cheeks flushed.

“You’re not to blame. There were too many. We’re lucky she was able to stop them. Quite a feat. I wouldn’t have thought her capable of it, I must admit with some shame,” said Olver thoughtfully.

Ray stared at them in disbelief.

“What happened to Demoa?” she asked again, shivering.

The silence answered. It took a while for the lump to form in her throat, and for the Dream to feel a little more distant, but eventually grief broke through.

“That can’t… how?”

Eri told her, sparsely, but she hardly listened; her eyes stayed fixed on the slope above them.

“Why didn’t you attack them, Eri? It would have been self-defense,” she asked, partly to distract herself and partly to assign blame.

She knew there had likely been no other way.

“I can’t turn my fire against people. I can’t. It would be catastrophic. All I can do is give the impression, protect, like a parkin flaring its eyes in danger…” He pressed his palms together, shaking his head. “I hated it. I hated standing by. Demoa didn’t deserve that.”

Ray’s voice cracked. “Why? It would have saved her. Wasn’t she lucid? Wasn’t she our hope, like you said?”

Eri’s eyes burned with conflicted shame. “She was… she was hope, yes. But you’re something else. Different. More valuable. What you brought down from the sky… that was what we’d prayed for. A change in the world itself. We’d all been hoping for it. Demoa was wonderful, but she didn’t have your strength, not even in that brief moment. Her scent, her presence… she drove everyone into ecstasy. How she managed that, I don’t know…”

Ray began to tremble, and a glimmer of light rose around her, but she kept it under control. Still, she couldn't hold back everything.

“YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS! More valuable? What is that supposed to mean? What gives you the right to abandon her for some idea like that?” Ray roared.

His words were cruel, insane, callous. Then she realized she wasn’t only angry at Eri. She was also angry at Elga, who had given her life for those same thoughts, and at of course herself, for not helping in the first place, for letting Demoa’s waking happen at all.

“Ray, whatever your fate may be, whether it’s what Eri says or not, whatever comes next, the only thing that matters is that Elga believed in you. We trust her. Elga’s life was almost sacred to us, and the fact that she gave it for you makes one thing clear: yours is even more important,” Olver cut in.

“Yes. Elga wasn’t a fool; she saw something in you, and that trust brought us the Sun, the moon, the stars. Finally, Olver and I woke from our half-numb states. We want more now; we have visions and things we want to do. We owe all of that to you. So yes, you’re worth more to us because you can do more good for more people. Sacrificing what we can to thank you is the least we can do to repay you. I think Demoa probably felt the same,” Sars added firmly.

Ray let out a cry and collapsed back into the grass, clutching her hair and breathing deeply.

Was she worth more? Not as a person, of course, but as a lucid one. Was she destined for something great, the way Eri said? And Elga too? And Demoa? She wanted to strengthen the light and bring it to everyone, but did she want others to demand that of her? To be propped up by people who partly trusted her, who placed the burden of their hopes on her, and who had only crossed her path by misfortune — like the two who had attacked Dio, like Elga, like Demoa.

What if I fail? Will I be judged, standing on the crumbling remains of their memory?

She felt the darkness beyond the golden fortress in her mind and reassured herself that her walls still held. Still, the thought frightened her: to fail, to harm people, to feed the darkness instead of the light. What if the black took her by surprise and broke through her walls? How much harm would she do then, broken by the dark within her?

Demoa, I’m sorry. I only hurt you.