Chapter 10 - The Angry (1)

A pinky rose
Blooming thorns and toxic bud
Take a hit
Go get sick

Harmon dragged his feet over the barren, dusty land, stepping ahead reluctantly. He could not see anything before him, it's been hours, and he wasn't sure how far he was from the Nexus. There wasn't a single source of light anywhere in sight.

"You shall not regret, child, not using your light," echoed the voice as he advanced eastward. "The light of the spirit will have more room to grow and time to bloom."

"I appreciate that you anticipate my thought," replied Harmon bluntly, with a hint of sarcasm, "but I fail to understand any of this 'light of the spirit' concept. Light of any kind can only enhance spiritual growth, as far as I can tell. In any case, I have another question. You're probably aware of my past; what do you know about it?"

"It is beyond my role to fill your memory void, I'm afraid," replied the Advisor.

"How are you even aware of my memory loss?" wondered the young man. "If you know about that, then you probably know about the history of this planet too. Oh, I know, you'll say that the history of this planet is none of your concern either."

"You are correct, young Harmon," replied the voice. "My purpose is related somewhat to this planet but goes beyond mere encyclopedic knowledge. It is the meaning of this planet that you must learn."

"And I assume it can only be understood through darkness," continued Harmon rolling his eyes.

"You are once again correct, young one. The darkness of this world can be seen as an empty room that can be turned into a home, as per the owner's liking. An absurd light is like a room full of debris that leaves no room for furniture and other necessities."

"I think your approach is quite nihilistic," interrupted Harmon. "It sounds like an intention to purge the entire past just to make room for the future. Don't you think progress is achieved easier by careful evolution rather than radical transitions"

"Darkness is an opportunity. When the lights are off, the actors can prepare for the curtain to drop and the play to start. If the light were always on, there would be no magic. People may observe each other. Instead, they focus on the spot with the least light, knowing full well that the mystery there will soon be revealed."

"Yes," accepted Harmon rolling his eyes, almost exasperated by the calm way the Shadow Advisor explained things, "but the dark and mystery go away when the spotlight is turned on."

"They do, but what happens to the audience during that time?" asked the voice. "Before the show starts, the stage is dark, but the audience is lit. However, as the show starts, the light from the audience gets slowly turned off, and a powerful spotlight will illuminate the stage."

"Darn, but then you just agreed that the light is fine," exclaimed Harmon.

"It is not the light that is problematic," replied the voice calmly, "but how it is used."

Harmon didn't feel like continuing the topic anymore. He understood the message, but he didn't agree with the concept, so he agreed to disagree. Nevertheless, these discussions fueled his curiosity, just like his books. He remembered reading many non-technical books at some point, such as philosophical or theological studies, which gave him some juicy food for thought about life, the universe, and everything.

They walked for a few more hours, and Harmon felt his legs growing tired. He constantly used his ability to turn off the soreness. Still, his legs were now harder to drag around, making him increasingly exhausted. He felt the urge to stop, but his mind could not evaluate the risk of taking a break in this place, so he decided to continue.

***

"Mornin', Harmon!" said the little girl with a smile as she drew closer to the desk where the boy was sitting. "What are you up to?"

"I'm trying to assemble a wind-based power generator," replied the boy, his hands meticulously working with various wires and devices. "I thought we could use something that generates energy based on airflow."

"But that's stupid," laughed the girl. "The sun is always there anyway. Solar panels are enough, aren't they?"

"Yes," agreed Harmon, still focused on his work, "but what if the sun would no longer be there one day? What would happen to us?"

"I guess we'll just die, haha!" laughed the girl even harder. "How can we even live without the sun, silly?"

"Well, I'm experimenting with new technologies anyways," he concluded, not feeling like pursuing this topic any further, "it's best to have a plan B for everything."

"Look, I've written some poems," exclaimed the girl, showing a notebook. "It's about the sun and its warmth; you'll love them!"

"Sorry, I'm not really into poetry anymore," the boy replied coldly, "I'm more into philosophy right now. I don't see poems as a good way to evolve. Suppose you have a way to view the world. In that case, it's better to explain that directly in blunt words instead of beating around the bush with random artistic idioms and metaphors."

The girl twisted her mouth in disgust.

"You have no sensibility," the girl indignantly argued. "You should be ashamed of yourself, little boy. The poems are good. Metaphors are sweet."

The girl took a breath.

"Boy," she followed. "Let your dying soul fall in love again with the world's beauty."

"Darn, where did you learn to speak with such words," Harmon cringed. "That's so not you."

"But… but it is me," exclaimed the girl. "It's just the way I can express myself. And anyway, what am I anyways?"

"You are a human," replied Harmon bored. "That's all."

"No, I meant who I am…" she added. "What is my name?"

"I don't care!" shouted Harmon, raising his hands in exasperation, prompting the girl to flinch. "Just call yourself however you want and get out of here!"