17 de agosto de 2013

Season of Shade

There was a shout outside and a bang in the doors.

"Let me in", someone said. "My daughter's sick, she needs help!"

No one replied. They were too scared thinking this would be another ruse from whatever lied beyond the walls of the city. Those days were dark and terrifying, and the season of shades would not pass for another two revolutions of the moon.

The outside man insisted for hours, and only silence welcomed him. He started to cry in several moments, only to become angrier and scream more and more in revolt.

"I'm of your kind, don't you see!?"

But much like any others who tried the same, his voice faded and succumbed also to the darkness. His last words were more of a resigned whisper.

"They've taken her. They've taken her..."




In the the town no one spoke about the shade. It was the unsaid rule, the slow and sure piece of advice everyone would follow without the need of speech. The everyday intown activities took place and there was nothing else to do about it.

The crops were halted during that season. There was no point in cultivating anything in the season of shades. The whole day seemed long and tedious, in spite of the hanging sense of despair that lingered softly in every corner. People would pass by, apparently busy with their own business, but Aidan knew better than that.

She was sick of all that. She wanted to leave. She wanted to dive into the unknown.

Whether that was a sense of mindless selfishness or some kind of madness driven by the shade she would not know. She did know, however, that her future did no belong to that place. Not at all.

Her mother had passed at her birth and her father raised her as a boy. Of course, many knew she was a girl long before she realized it herself, but she did not care anymore. In her heart it did not matter. With time and labor in the carpentry she decided that what her father did was for the best, and left it as it is.

On that day, while tending to the polishing of wood, she had decided. Sudden like a storm, the resolution came and took roots. She packed her things without telling anyone and went for the town gates. Aside from the watchers no one else guarded the towers. She took a deep breath and opened the gates before anyone got a hint of what she was doing.

Slowly the people became aware and started calling her name in confusion. But it was already too late and she had already left through the small crack she held open for her passage. Behind her someone kept shouting "crazy bitch", but she did not recognize the voice. Maybe one of the watchers.

The road was terrible and not well taken care of, as it was expected in that time of the year. With herself she only had a pair of plain clothes, a travel sack and enough provisions to last for three or four days, or maybe a week, if she fastened the belt. There was a bit of regret in her chest, but it was too late. No one would open the gates for her, not until the end of the season. So she kept going.

The day was filled with a sour soundless tone, and the eyes were hindered by some sort of obscurity that covered the shapes of things. Vegetation would no grow, and the one that existed had already withered beyond salvation.

The ashes of the pavement and the ragged nature did little to upturn her mood for most of the walk. Now that she was outside she did not know what to do. She wished she was as sure as before, and now was angry with her foolishness, not because of the decision she had made, but for the uncertainty that followed.

The night came unnoticed and she got a place under a very old and dead oak trunk beside the road. She could not risk a fire, so she ate gloomily piece of cheese that tasted like toe nails. The sleep followed, dreamless and undisturbed.

When she woke up, there were shadows all around her.

She stood up quickly and grabbed a hard piece of stick that lied nearby, fencing it towards the creatures. They were a dozen pale dark misty-like beings in the shape of animals: a raccoon, a squirrel, two bulls and a big dog. Their lines were twisted and magnified, as if seen by a very dirty and odd shard of glass. They kept looking at her, muted by their own thoughts.

Aidan stopped moving the stick around. "Hello?", she half asked.

"You don't belong here", twitched the squirrel. It was thrice the size of a common specimen, much like the others.

"Humans perish under the Shade, mister", thwarted one of the bulls. "They don't last long, no they don't."

When the others started to mumble, the husky dog talked. His baritone voice was more human than anything she imagined, and was filled with also unimagined sorrow.

"Girl, you too shall perish. In one way or another your humanity is forfeit. Now you have to survive with whatever is left."

It startled her that she was addressed as "a girl" by the dog. She did not understand what could happen to her and why those animal shadows were there. For all she knew everyone who left town during the season never returned. The people that came by and asked for help were never attended, for fear that they were ghosts in disguise, or something worse. No one understood why the season of shades existed and since when or anything. There was only the unknown.

"What should I do?", she finally asked.

The shadows were quiet. The dog spoke.

"You can do many things, girl. One of them is to survive."

"But how can I survive under the shade? We've never seen anyone to return from it!"

"Yes, it is true. It is impossible to thrive under the shade. That is why you have to survive in it. Like we do."

She then looked to the blurred grayness produced by their vaporous bodies and a sudden glimpse of understanding enlightened her face when she realized their true nature.

They cast human shadows.

"Now I see you understand. Come with me, if you will. The shade has already started to take its toll", said the dog, motioning the group to leave.

Aidan bowed and look around herself. The twilight world was starting to make sense.

And she followed.


Days later her father left the town to look for her. He searched for three days, until he found her beside a river bank. Changed.

He ran back to town, astonished and terrified. He was in rags and banged the doors.

"Let me in!", he shouted. "My daughter's sick, she needs help!"