A Light at the End of the Tunnel

There were two things of note that happened the next day. The first was that the dragon's carcass was no longer visible from the lake. Had it sunken into the water? I couldn't tell for sure, and it was impossible to tell from where I was. The second was the brief return of the peasant, though as soon as she seemed to get a good look at the hill, she ran back the way she came. To be honest, I could understand why she did so. The scenery that I had grown accustomed to over the past year had become desolate, and the hillside in particular was barren and deserted. Still, in either case, she did not return in the weeks that followed.

Previously, new pieces of scenery would appear out of the blue, probably from other unfortunate souls similar to myself. But for some reason, this no longer occurred, at least from what I could see. It was as if we were abandoned and left to rot. But strangely, the lake remained intact. Perhaps the woman in the sky still had something in mind for this place—another unwilling victim to be slaughtered? Either way, the result was the same, and nothing changed for the weeks that followed.

However, on one late afternoon, I heard the grass rustle once again. Maybe the peasant had finally returned, ready to toss more rocks into the lake. Would this be the day that I would finally be cast into the watery abyss?

But instead, two men stepped from the thicket, one of whom was carrying a large brown bag. After reaching the shoreline, one of the men stepped away from the other and began to pick up debris from the ground. Were these two men part of a clean-up crew or something? If so, then they were long overdue. But as the two men continued to clear the lakeshore, I noticed that one of them was getting closer and closer, until I saw his hand above me, quickly reaching down.

It happened in an instant, and I found myself being held in this man’s hand. Only a few glimmers of light penetrated through his grip, but from them I could make out the form of a couple of rocks next to me. I wondered how the others were feeling. Did they feel free? Relief to at least experience something different? About a minute or so later, the man loosened his grip. And I was treated to a fleeting flash of light before I fell into the bag, with tons of other rocks beside me. I looked up as the bag was tied closed, sealing me in darkness.

Shortly thereafter, I could faintly hear the men talking to each other, and the sound of footsteps followed. I couldn’t feel any movements, forces, or really anything else as this occurred, even though I knew from the sound of the rustling grass that I was being moved.

After a little while, the sounds of footsteps ceased, and I subsequently heard a loud thump. I assumed I was being placed down onto something, though I was unsure as to what. I got my answer when I heard a clopping sound, probably from some horses, on what was most likely a gravel road. There was something interesting I noticed while I listened to these horses. The few ‘animals’ I had seen thus far all had some sort of rebellious streak, a desperation to escape this situation, something I both admired and envied. But I didn’t notice any such behavior from these horses. Were they simply lacking the will to rebel, or perhaps their fighting spirits had been extinguished somehow? To this, however, I had no answers. A while passed, and eventually, the clopping sound creased. I heard some clanking from inside the bag, along with another thump. It seemed that I had been handed over to someone else, and I had a feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time that would occur.

On occasion, there would be some sharp bumps, which caused the bag to bounce. And throughout the entire time, it was completely dark, akin to how things were at night. But instead of being pitch-black, everything around me was some sort of brownish color, probably due to the sunlight as well as the bag itself. As this was occurring, a funny thought came to me. I had spent about a year in this world, and I was only able to see a tiny piece of it. But as now I was being transported to who knows where, I wasn’t able to see any of it.

After an extended period of time, we came to another stop. I heard some shouting, but I couldn’t make out what was being said. But soon enough, I could hear a deep groaning sound, probably the opening of a giant door. And even inside the bag, I could hear it clearly. After that, I heard more clopping, this time on what seemed like a stone surface. But a little bit later, the sound ceased, and I assumed we had come to a stop. With this silence, I could now hear the ambient sound of voices, something that I hadn’t heard in a very long time. Whatever place I was now in seemed to be alive with activity, a stark contrast to the near silence I experienced back at the lake.

But this sound was abruptly interrupted by clattering noises. The bag was moving again, and it seemed that someone was holding it quite loosely. This clattering sound went on for a few minutes or so, until I heard a thump, after which it stopped.

After that, I heard a snap from above me, and some more clattering followed. But a few seconds later, some light gleamed through, and suddenly I found myself rolling onto a wooden table amidst a pile of other rocks. I was now in a room with gray cobblestone walls and wooden cross-windows. It was dimly lit, save for some nearby candles.

I looked the other way and saw a mustached man seated on a chair, clutching the now empty bag. He set the bag down before pushing all of us aside, except for one rock that he placed in the center of the table. I observed the man take out a paintbrush and dip it in a colored liquid nearby. Then, he applied a thin layer of paint to the rock, gradually coating its entire surface. Once finished, he set the rock aside, presumably to dry. Strangely enough, the rock now appeared to be quite shiny.

The man reached towards us and picked out another rock, painting it just like the one before. Rinse and repeat. Eventually, he rinsed the paintbrush, selected another color to use, and continued to paint the rocks. But it was only a matter of time, however, before it was my turn. And soon enough, the man picked me up with three of his fingers and placed me down in front of him.

He dipped the paintbrush into some emerald-green paint and held it close to me. Then he began to apply the green paint to me. As I looked to my left side, where he had just applied the paint, I noticed something really weird. For some reason, the paint didn’t completely cover my vision. But instead, it seemed to overlap with my sight. There was no pattern to it, but instead, flickering patches of green obstructed parts of my vision. And as the man continued to apply more paint to me, this overlap affected more and more of my vision, until eventually my entire view was impacted.

And throughout this process, I noticed something even weirder. While I was being painted, the paintbrush appeared to partially go through me, as if it were instead painting something behind me. It didn’t go very far, probably about a millimeter or so. Regardless, it was as if I was seeing through parts of the paintbrush's bristles, which was very strange to witness.

After the man finished painting me, he picked me up again, this time using some tweezers. But as he did so, my surroundings began to distort wildly, with patches of green appearing and disappearing haphazardly all around me. The sole exception to this was in the area of my sight facing towards the man. But this respite would only be temporary, as the man proceeded to apply some green paint to that area as well. The man then placed me on a stand alongside a bunch of other rocks. After this happened, the flickering calmed down to how it had been before. I should have been nauseous after this experience, but for some reason I wasn’t—not because of some sort of training or practice or anything like that, but simply because I was no longer capable of feeling dizzy.

But despite this, looking around was still incredibly overwhelming. And so, as the man continued to paint more rocks, I looked at the cobblestone wall to relax. But as I did so, colored rocks gradually covered my periphery, until eventually they surrounded me completely. And due to all the green in my view, I couldn’t say with confidence what colors any of them were.

After a little while, I heard the chair scraping against the floor. I cautiously turned my sight towards the man, trying not to worsen the distortions in my vision. When I finally saw him, he was already getting up from the chair and grabbing a lantern that was nearby. After extinguishing the candle on the table, the man walked out of the room, taking the lantern with him.

Despite this, however, the room wasn’t completely dark. There were a few rays of light filtering through the window, illuminating the rocks around me with a faint glow. And as I looked at this light, I began to feel a little bit hopeful. Maybe after all this time—after everything that I had been through—I could finally see a light at the end of the tunnel.

Little did I know that this was just the beginning of things to come.