Fantasy The World at Night [Chi Chi & snacktimeplease]

[snacktimeplease]

This story is about two worlds - once existing as one, but long ago separated and, over time, completely forgotten to eachother.

Generations later, one civilization has prospered in a futuristic utopia, while the other struggles to eke out an existence in a frozen wasteland. Helio and Mara know nothing of eachothers worlds, but find themselves connected in their dreams.

Are their worlds destined to be forever separate, or can their dreams affect their reality?

 

[Chi Chi]

The sun was starting to sink below the choppy gray waves of the half-frozen sea. Mara shivered. It may be summer but that only meant that instead of a solid sheet of ice, the sea became a hazardous obstacle course of ice floes and angry water. Summer meant mosses and fungi would be a little easier to gather, and the sun would be out a little longer. It was a cold sun though. Any warmth brought to Mara's skin was snatched away by the icy wind, and the gusts grew more intense as the ocean wrapped its greedy fingers around the last rays of sunlight.

Yet, the sky wasn't left dark in the absence of the sun. Eerie greens and whites of the dancing auroras above replaced the pale yellow glow. They reflected on the snowy landscape giving enough light for Mara to continue her journey back to the village without haste. She adjusted the bag on her shoulders, feeling the weight of the shellfish shifting inside. Her haul was good for this late in the summer, which would be a welcome relief.

Usually Mara spent most of her time tending the greenhouse gardens. This time of year the vegetables and berries should be about ready for another harvest, and she would be setting about to canning and preserving the extras for use throughout the winter. Now that wouldn't be possible.

As she passed the main greenhouse, she flinched seeing the door hanging half off the hinges, and the sides blackened by flame. There had been a raid from the Akrai Tribe two nights prior. They stole months of carefully tended supplies, adding insult by burning the greenhouse as they retreated. Luckily, they had managed to put out the fire before damage was irreparable, but it would still be many months until it would be ready to start growing anything again. How many people would starve in that time?

Nervously, Mara's hand darted to her pocket and her fingers closed around the wooden bear figurine there. Her thumb ran over the divots that created the textured fur, then the two tiny nubbins that made the ears. As her fingers worried over the rough wood, Mara's mind stopped racing and she took a deep breath. They would figure something out - they had to. They would survive. They always managed to survive.

"Marabella, you shouldn't be wandering around alone. These are dangerous times."

Mara shook off thoughts and pulled her hand out of her pocket hurriedly, like a child caught taking an extra sweet cake. She turned around as saw Ikram approaching her, dark brows knitted together in concern. His brows were nearly never not knitted in concern.

"The times are always dangerous. The cold will kill us, our neighbours will kill us, most of the animals that provide us food will kill us. Ikram, the amount of stress you carry will kill you, should you give it enough time to do so," Mara quipped.

Ikram's brows only furrowed closer together in response and the corners of his mouth turned downwards as though weighted by her words.

Mara sighed . She had grown up with Ikram and considered him a friend. He had always been a somber child, but as they grew, so did the cloud over Ikram's head. Now that he sat on the village council, she saw that cloud rumbling with electricity more often than not. She did not wish to be around the day that cloud opened up and released the storm brewing within.

Before Ikram could respond with what Mara assumed would be a lecture of some sort, she slid her bag from her shoulders and held it open in front of her. "Fresh abalone and mussels. Take them and see that they get to those that need them."

The corners of Ikram's mouth turned up again, though his brows stayed stubbornly tied in knots. He took the bag from Mara's hands. "You should take someone with you next time you go out," he began. "These will be appreciated though. This last Akrai raid was worse than usual. They'll regret it when we - "

The sickly green of the sky danced over Ikram's face as he ground his teeth together, realising too late that he was revealing council business to her.

Mara's eyes searched his. "It's war then?" she whispered, hand searching her pocket once again for the bear, no longer caring if anyone saw her clutching the carving. Violence had been escalating between the Akrai and the Masahi Tribes, and the sparks in Ikram's gaze told Mara the council would be retaliating against the latest affront.

Ikram's cloud growled at her, and several fat droplets of water fell upon his shoulders. Mara took a step back and poised to run. Ikram hoisted her bag on his shoulders and turned to leave. "Don't spread fanciful rumours, Marabella. You've clearly had a long day gathering all these. I'll take care of the rest - you should get some sleep." With that, he walked away and Mara fell back onto her heels.

Exhausted and frightened, Mara made her way home. She lifted the heavy tent flap with both hands. Warmth from inside enveloped her and her eyes grew heavy. Silently, as not to wake anyone else, she made her way to the cot tucked into the back corner. Mara peeled off her salt-stained boots and stripped to her underwear. She rolled into the soft furs of her bedding, her thoughts roiling in her mind like a boat in a spring storm. The threats of starvation and war clung heavy in her heart, squeezing against the heavy thud-thud in her chest. Mara grabbed her little wooden bear and pressed it's tiny snout against her lips. "Take me away," she told it, as she closed her eyes and let sleep take her.

 

[snacktimeplease]

“Three a.m.? Ugh.”

Helio groaned as he sunk into his pillows, dragging his sheets over his head, trying, with futility, to shield himself from the dim glow emitting from his bedside display and quiet himself from the voice repeating in his head:

Wake up, Helio. It’s time to wake up.

Wake up, Helio. It’s time to wake up.

Wake up, Helio. It’s time to wake up.

The voice was calm, but assertive. It reminded him of his brother, Solomon. Helio could never see eye-to-eye with their father, and they clashed - often. It was with this same tone of voice that Solomon would talk his younger brother down, every time.

The resemblance shouldn’t have surprised him. Part of the installation process involved receiving a small cranial implant and allowing the program to establish a constant neural link with his brain activity. It was cutting-edge stuff from Vitacore Labs, the only lab to receive a government endorsement for this type of technology. A tech-junkie to the core, Helio jumped at the opportunity to be a guinea pig for the project.

After first hearing its voice, Helio had briefly considered naming it “Sol” in tribute, but the idea didn’t sit right with him. Solomon was a living, breathing person, the realest one he’d ever known, whereas the program (currently very rudely interrupting his sleep) could only ever attempt to come close.

After some deliberation, he eventually settled on the name “Cosmos”, which was still a tribute in its own way - their mother loved the stars, and named both brothers after the Sun. He also couldn’t help, despite his best efforts to the contrary, gendering the program. It sounded too much like his brother to be anything other than a “he”.

“Cosmos, dude. Shut up. Please.”

Helio awaited any response from Cosmos.

…

Silence? Maybe tonight he’d be able to sleep.

…

Wake up, Helio. It’s time to wake up.

“Damn.”

He didn’t normally find Cosmos this intrusive. Normally, he quite appreciated him, his artificial intelligence intuitively planning his days, with his well-being and quality of life at his utmost concern. Normally, he couldn’t imagine his life without Cosmos‘ deft guidance.

Things hadn’t been normal though, not for weeks now.

The strangeness began with minor quirks in Cosmos’ activity, like his breakfast being slightly undercooked, or the ambient temperature in his pod being just a couple of degrees too cold. This business with the three a.m. wakeup call, though… this was a new one, although it hardly mattered - these quirks were the least of his problems.

Over the same few weeks that Cosmos had been acting up, Helio never felt rested, even if he managed to sleep through the night. He always awoke in a jolt, as if snapping out of a nightmare that he could never remember. It had been getting worse and worse.

It was this constant exhaustion that had kept him from doing anything about Cosmos. It’s not that he wasn’t concerned about the malfunctions. He was just so damn tired all the time.

Wake up, Helio. It’s time to wake up.

“Seriously? Alright, okay, I’m up, I’m up. You can stop now.”

Helio groggily rolled over in his bed, lifting himself upright and letting gravity take his legs over the edge. His feet touched the floor and-

“Ah! Cold! Damnit Cosmos!”

I’m sorry, Helio, let me fix that for you.

Helio heard the heaters, embedded in the floor, hum to life. Quietly grumbling to himself, he shuffled over to his bedroom windows, extending from floor to ceiling. Despite his interrupted sleep, he couldn’t help but admire the view. This city was beautiful at night, the Dome casting a faint purple glow over everything within. He sometimes pondered what existed beyond its protective borders, but at the moment his thoughts were elsewhere.

At the moment, Helio was resolving to visit Vitacore Labs in the morning, and he was going to find out what was wrong with Cosmos.

The heaters continued to hum as Helio gazed over the city’s skyline. The floors were too warm now.

 

[Chi Chi]

Mara opened her eyes to the reflection of moonlight rippling on water. She turned her gaze to the sky. It didn't matter how many times she dreamt of this place, it never ceased to amaze her. Nothing about these dreams made any sense or bore any resemblance to the world she knew.

For one, the night sky was not covered in dancing lights. Instead the full moon shone brightly above and the rest of the dark was lit up by tiny pinpricks of light - stars. Mara had of course seen stars in her own sky, but they were a few of the brightest ones, washed out by the constant auroras. These stars were like something else entirely. With only the moon to compete with they sparkled and danced in their own way, some clustering together in snowy white streaks and others parading proudly alone in the night. And the moon! Without the curtain of green obscuring its face, the moon was a like a disk of ice floating in a pool of ink.

Mara looked down in surprise as water crashed over her bare feet. Reflexively she took a step back, preparing for the ocean's frigid fingers. Instead the fingers were a soft lover's caress around her ankles.

The water is warm!? she marveled to herself. The new revelation was shocking. Of course, she had never seen ice or snow in these dreams, but she had always assumed the sea would remain cold. That was how water was, until heated over fire. Curiosity burning inside her, Mara scooped up some of the warm water into her hands and sipped it tentatively. She grimaced. Still salty, still the ocean. How can that be? Then she laughed. You're dreaming Mara, of course the ocean can be warm. You thought it was weird that plants could grow everywhere and so big, but there they are! Just as real as warm water.

Waves lapped over Mara's feet several more times, and she flinched less with each splash as she grew accustomed to the idea that the water would be warm. Satisfied the water was going to remain the same, Mara turned around and headed up the shore. She savoured the feeling of the ground between her toes. She still didn't understand the grainy material beneath her feet. It was like many tiny stones, but soft. Instead of cutting her feet like she had first expected, it simply clung to the wet spots on her skin, and fell away from the areas that were dry. It was fascinating.

The ground turned to gritty earth under her feet as she wandered. Mara was never sure what she was looking for in these dreams, but she was always compelled to walk, and to search. She pushed her way through... trees she was pretty sure they were. They looked different than the ones she had seen drawn in books. Instead of needles or small, delicate leaves, these trees had large leaves spreading several hands widths. Some of the plants were short shrubs with brightly coloured flowers, some were towering trees with leaves like swords sprouting from the top. Outside of her greenhouses, she had never seen so much life.

As Mara's feet wandered, so did her mind. Why did she end up in these dreams so frequently?

It had started about a year ago. Her uncle Roland wandered into camp after being missing - and presumed dead - for several months. He marched straight to Mara's greenhouse and gripped her by the shoulders, wind whipping wildly all around him. Before Mara had a chance to react, he pressed a large piece of wood into her hands. "A gift from the past," he had laughed. As quickly as the wind had flown him in, so did it whisk Roland away again, leaving Mara standing in shocked silence.

Days later, after the initial excitement of Roland's return had settled, Mara had tried to ask him for more information on his strange gift. Her uncle had merely shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Nessa belongs to you. She says it's time to be born. I just brought her to where that would happen." Mara's uncle had always lived in his own world, so she had simply leaned in and kissed his cheek in response. As she did the wind tugged playfully at her chestnut curls, whispering promises of adventure. She slowly pulled herself out of the wind's grasp, and it returned to murmuring in Roland's ear once again. He smiled and nodded, already staring off into the distance.

That night Mara had sat in her cot, staring at the chunk of wood. Where had Roland gotten it? It was far too large for the scant, scraggly bushes that dotted the tundra. The bark was already peeling away and the wood underneath was a beautiful dark chocolate colour, unlike the pale woods Mara had seen on occasion. Who was Nessa? Or what?

She fell asleep that night with a lamp still burning next to her and the wood in her hands. That was the first time she was transported to a land so strange that despite how real everything felt, she knew she could only be dreaming. Startled by the sheer amount of green and the feeling of pulsating life around her, Mara had almost overlooked the bear staring at her from across the clearing.
When she finally did notice, Mara and the bear locked eyes for what seemed like an eternity. Mara had seen a bear in real life only once before, from a distance across the ice one winter. That bear had been as white as the rest of the landscape, only discernable from the ice by it's movement. This bear, in this land of green, was a dark chocolate brown colour. "Nessa?" Mara finally queried. The bear took a step forward, and Mara jolted awake.

The lamp beside her burned dimly, nearly out of fuel. Rolling out of her cot, she grabbed the lamp to replenish the fuel, then dug around in a nearby basket looking for her knife. She often carved little figures out of ice in her spare time - people and birds mostly - but she had never worked with wood before. Determined, Mara had set upon her uncle's gift. She knew who Nessa was now.

The snap of a twig brought Mara out of her memories. She turned around slowly, gazing into Nessa's deep black eyes. "Is it time to go?" The bear approached and Mara dug her fingers into her shaggy fur. Mara closed her eyes, burying her face next to her hands into Nessa's coat. When Mara opened her eyes again she was back in her bed, hand clasping the little wooden bear.

 

[snacktimeplease]

It was some time before the twinkling lights of Salvation’s skyline loosened their hold on Helio’s attention. He stretched, a yawn forcing its way from deep within, and he became aware again of the ungodly hour at which Cosmos had woken him.

He turned away from the window and shuffled groggily to his dresser. It was made from white polished metal, sleekly designed, much like everything else in his pod. On it sat a small framed photograph, faded, wrinkled and creased from years spent living in wallets and pockets.

Helio tilted the frame back for a better look at the photo. Messily scrawled along the bottom edge was the caption: “Sol + Leo, Graduation.”

It was a photo of him and Sol, laughing joyfully, arms around eachothers shoulders. Helio was such a sullen and serious kid in those days, so it was rare to get a photo of him even just smiling, but on that day he couldn’t help but be an elated, proud little brother.

Sol was graduating from the flight academy, top of his class, and had already been tapped for the government’s groundbreaking new mission - to begin, for the first time ever, venturing past the Dome’s protective borders. They had coined the mission, “Salvation Beyond.”

It was monumental, and something both of them had dreamt of their entire lives. The photo held more than just this memory, though - it also held the reminder that, after this day, nothing would ever be the same for either of them.

While the public hype around the mission was at a fever pitch, any real details of it were shrouded in absolute secrecy, and when Sol was whisked from home that night via government escort, he left no hint of where he was going or when he’d be back.

The only updates Helio and his parents ever got was through the same news reports that the rest of Salvation received, and the news reports were always the same:

“Salvation Beyond progressing as planned, a new world awaits!”

They took it to mean that Solomon was doing well, and with every report they hoped for the day that they would have their brother and their oldest son home again.

As the weeks and months passed though, the news mentioned Salvation Beyond a little less often. And then still less often than that. By the time the calendar was approaching the one year anniversary of Sol’s graduation, the mission appeared to have been swept under the rug entirely.

Still, perhaps naively, they hoped that maybe Salvation Beyond was simply not as promising as expected and had been canceled, and that Sol would be coming home soon. The blinking light of the telephone became a beacon of hope and, like moths, they hovered near it constantly, eagerly awaiting the good news.

And then, one year to the day of that photograph, just before dinner, the telephone rang. Its screen displayed no numbers, only Salvation’s official crest, a half-circle patterned with hexagons, trisected by a V-shape, resembling beams of light cast out from within the Dome.

That crest could only mean one thing - it was coming from a government office! Helio and his parents nearly toppled eachother in their rush to answer the call. They were greeted by a male voice. The man provided no credentials, but the crest on the display was enough. He wasted no time in delivering his message:

Salvation Beyond had been canceled.

But Sol would not be coming home. He would never be coming home.