The Border of Light, Two

With all the strength that he had gathered, he opened his eyes. A pressing feeling of alarm weighted on his mind even though the world around him was soft, lulling him back into a sweet dream. His eyelids felt heavy, a pleasant fatigue washing through his body, and he fought it, despite himself. For he knew it was a dream and that he had to awaken. He didn’t know how, or why, but something beckoned him. Even through his dream. A call he couldn't deny or resist. Almost like a primal instinct he had no choice but to follow.

And so he did, fighting the dream to welcome the bitter reality.

How long had he been out for? He couldn’t recall. How did he get here? Where was here? The questions swarmed his mind as it drifted into awareness.

And every breath came deeper now, more frequent, yet his lungs still hungered for air. He felt numb, his muscles aching and head swaying when he tried to move. It was cold, he realized. Cold and bright for light streamed in from somewhere though he couldn't tell where through the gray mist that still reigned over his eyes.

The walls glimmered, he realized, reflecting the scarce light to obscure its origins. It couldn’t be, he thought as his hand dropped to feel the floor. Cold and slippery, almost like... ice? His fingers ran across the surface prickling from the numb frost.

He frowned. Why did it have to be ice of all things? And by the looks of it, the cursed element covered everything in a thick, harsh blanket. His mind was sharper now, but so was the cold. No longer an unpleasant chill, but a wave of frost piercing his very core. How hadn’t he felt this before?

Moving was painful now. Impossible even as his surroundings grew colder with each passing moment. Colder and soothing. No. He shook himself from the haze. He had to move. Now, for he feared he wouldn't be able to ever again.

Anger and pain burned through his neurons as he climbed to a knee. With clenched teeth he propelled himself upright staggering when the world span. But somehow he remained standing. He waited for the vertigo to pass, and when he lost patience, he moved. Where did the light come from? His steps faltered when once again he came face to face with a wall.

He would never make it out like that.

Stiff fingers curling into fists, he wished for fire. A breath passed, and then another, but nothing happened. The newfound helplessness only fuel his rage further. He wished again, demanded it, begged it. And nothing.

Pathetic. He felt pathetic for having to resort to verbal manifestation, but his lips still mouthed: fire.

The chamber blazed alight.

And with it, the energy that had been static for too long stirred in a whirlpool. The world fluttered, as the accumulated force flooded the streams. But it was nothing, compared to the power they held, and so the pulse faded with nothing but a low whisper.

Only stone remained under him now. Steady and hard. So unlike the treacherous ice. He sought the light again, now that it no longer reflected off the walls. It was pale, almost invisible, coating the chamber in deep shadows. But he could see it now, the bright square in the distance. The exit. His steps grew bolder as he crossed the distance, halting only at the very end when the cold breeze swept in and past him to replace the warm mist from his fire. He shuddered, the cold even more bitter now for his thin linen clothing did nothing to protect him. But he pressed on, stopping only at the very frame for the moment it took him to steady himself.

He had reached it, one step and he was free, but something still weighted down on him refusing to let him past the threshold. He could feel it. Even if it was much weaker than the power that had confined him to his dream. His emerald gaze dropped to the small disk he realized that he was holding. Such a wicked thing, he thought as he brushed a thumb over the surface. A snowflake was engraved onto its surface and he smiled at the irony. He sunk his thumb into the disk, cracking it with the least of effort.

The cold no longer felt bitter.

Like fire the colour returned to his face and then hair. Now that nothing confined him, nor sapped his power, he could feel it build up in his body. A weary smile of relief painted his features, and the cold was now a memory as he felt the air about him warm. He straightened to his full height and took that final step, to freedom.

He was greeted by the blinding white of an endless desert. It almost sent him hurrying back in, but he had come too far to turn back now. Slowly he grew accustomed to the sun that shone from high above. It’s glare was bright, but it brought no warmth, for he realized he was amids a desert of snow. White and vast as the horizon. And the sky, he had never seen such a pristine blue, without a single cloud to spoil it. No, he realized, the clouds were below. Linking the peaks into a sea of seamless dunes. At least he knew now why it was so hard to breathe.

Despite all previous impressions, he was not alone. A presence had joined him, familiar, yet so… unlikely. He gazed across the scape and his eyes widened when he saw her, for it was indeed her. She stood there, out in the snow, her light blue dress inseparable from the sky. He would had never spotted her if it were not for her vivid presence. She did not seem bothered by the cold, nor the wind that swayed her long blond hair.

Was she a vision? A continuation of his dream? He wondered, but then she smiled to greet him with that so well known smile. She was real. She had to be. His own lips curved but he quashed it, facing her instead with polite restraint.

"How... long has it been?" he spoke to her in his mind.

Her blue eyes were warm, as warm as he remembered. "Too long." she said, and her voice struck him with its familiar melody.

Familiar, but fleeting. And he feared she would melt away if he tore his eyes even for a moment.

"Shall we?" she said inviting him to follow with a graceful movement of her hand.

“As you command.” He answered with a bow.

It was unreal. Too unreal seeing her there, like that. But he still followed this vision across the landscape.

***

I walked down the rugged corridor following closely after my father. Once more he stopped to greet someone and I was officially amazed at how many acquaintances he had encountered since we entered the hotel. He did work in a big firm.

The party was in the penthouse, a large restaurant with a lovely view of the city, or so rumour had it. Personally I wasn't too impressed thus far. Everything was clean, fancy and sparkly, yes, but I couldn't see the appeal in a building that was an exact duplicate of pretty much any other representative of the modern age hotel architecture.

My father steered me around the corner and toward the elevators, his pace a bit too hasty. We were late, though looking at all the other people streaming in I didn’t really see it as a problem. A particularly talkative co-worker of his joined us as we waited before the large shiny doors. They talked and laughed and I was midway to mastering the ability to pass as a wall ornamentation when my father pulled me closer to introduce us.

I smiled my best fake smile when I shook the man’s hand, then nodded at his introduction as was the custom. I knew the etiquette well. I knew too many etiquettes well.

The man seemed nice enough, a warm smile on his face and cheerful look to his blue eyes. He had a greying moustache that made him look kind of like a benevolent uncle.

But my positive view was shattered when he proceeded to assault me with an endless stream of words. Some of it were questions, but most was self deduced evaluation of my life, accompanied by anecdotes from his. So this was the guy my dad wanted me to work for? Not happening. I didn’t know how yet, but it was so not happening.

After what felt like an eternity the elevator stopped and I scampered out of the tiny box like a fish released back into the sea. But he wasn’t done showering me with office stories and inside jokes to which only my father laughed. Finally, the moustached uncle saw someone else he knew and with a short mumble of excuse pounced onto a semi circle of two elder ladies and a man. The never ending babble faded into silence and a sigh of relief slipped me. But it was short lived for I realized my father was dragging me toward another group of co-workers I just had to meet.

The questions were always the same. And I answered them briefly, to the point, only to win myself a nudge and a stern stare. “Be polite.” My father’s stare read. Sighing yet again, I donned my best smile and try to feign interest. Fortunately, most people lost interest in my presence as soon as we finished shaking hands turning instead to my father with topics I couldn’t possibly contribute to. So I just stood there, in my best soulless doll impression.

I didn't know how much time passed, it felt like well beyond infinity, but eventually my father felt graceful enough to release me back into the wild.

“Behave.” he said while adjusting his tie. It was perfect, I didn't know why he felt the need to keep fiddling with the damn thing. And then he left for some important looking guy in a fancy suit.

I remained in my spot for a while taking in my surroundings corner by corner. There had to be a place I could retreat to. But first, my eyes landed at the bored looking fellow behind the bar.

He looked up when I approached, smiling in greeting but he couldn't fool me with that masterpiece of artificiality. It was still better than my attempts to look jolly that much I had to give him. But then again he was a professional, and I was simply a cynic.

"What would you like, miss?" he asked, his brilliant teeth shining when my staring had dragged on to become awkward.

“Soda.”

“Pure?”

“Pure.” I echoed.

I watched him agilely pour me a drink. He poking the small pink straw among the round ice cubes and handed me the low round cup across the counter. I thanked him with a smile and then plunged into the crowd again. Everyone was standing for some reason, greeting each other, exchanging pleasantries. The tables were set but I guessed dinner would not come for a while. And since I didn’t really plan on mingling, I moved straight for the balcony exit on the other side of the crowd.

No matter how I tried to avoid people, I was still stopped few times on the way, culminating with my father's inexpressibly irritating Barbie doll of a secretary who made me gulp my drink in one shot in hopes there was actually some alcohol in there.

I wasn't listening to her as she spoke, not really, but a well placed blow forced me into attention.

"So I heard you’re starting on Monday." she said cheerfully, too cheerfully for it to be real.

I handed my empty glass to a passing by waiter. "Mmmhm."

"I'm so happy for you," she said, "I can't wait to show you around." I barely stopped myself from frowning. "Wait, you need to meet Mark. Mark!" she all but yelled out looking around in search of the mysterious beast called Mark. He had probably fled while she was distracted with me.

She tossed her curls left and right a few more times as she turned to look for him and in the end gave up with a small frown creasing her cheeks, threatening to crack their fond-de-teint coating. I tried to slip away but she caught me with her gaze.

"Here, let me give you my phone number." she said and pulled out a thin cell from her tiny bag. Having no other choice I complied and soon a new contacts entry heaved on my list. I named her Barbie-doll when she wasn't looking and then smiled in answer to her eager grin.

"Come on," she said linking her arm in mine, "I heard the cheese crackers are heavenly. We have so much to talk about, my dear, don't worry I will tell you everything you need to know."

All I wanted was to get to that damn door, why wouldn't the universe let me?

Struggling to keep myself smiling I successfully dodged all of her attacks masked as innocent questions. We eventually did meet Mark, and a few of her girlfriends. It wasn't any better than my father introducing me to his colleagues especially when each time she added: "She's never worked in an office, the poor thing, you must be nice to her." She said it jokingly but she couldn't fool me, I had seen the glint of malice in her eyes. They knew me now, and I'd be at the mercy of the office grunts, serving coffees and stapling papers for irrelevant but cocky secretaries.

My eyes darted left to right, scanning for opportunities in our immediate surroundings. A smile crept upon my lips. I took half a step aside, it was all I could manage with her arm linked in mine, and pretending to brush a lock of hair behind ear, I raised my elbow in the exact perfect moment. The man in black suit lurched backward trying to save his drink and collided with a lady. She gasped, dropping her own drink and startled he bounced right back forward, the inertia causing the liquid to shoot right out of his glass and land on "Barbie" as she turned. With a stifled shrill she let go of my arm and wildly patted at her dress for a moment before she realized it was permanent.

"Oh my god, are you all right?" I said and she flashed me a weak smile.

"Its all right, it's all right, it will come off." she said. But she was no longer smiling. How would she, there was now an ugly red wine stain on her brilliant white dress.

The man tried to help her, of course, but she brushed off his feeble attempts with a sharp glare. I knew I should feel bad, but I didn't. He'd pay for the dry cleaning.

"You should soak it," I said, "wine is a bitch to get rid of."

Gazing down at it miserably she managed a nod.

"Please excuse me." she said to me and him both before retreating for the distance. He followed her, showering her with apologies. The moment they were gone the waiters descended at the empty patch like vultures and once they scattered there wasn't a trace left in air or on carpet from the mess that I had instigated. I gave the group of young office workers, whose names I had already forgotten, a smile and retreated before anyone else could seize me.

A makeshift garden and several, now unoccupied, restaurant tables were all that was out on the terrace. The only light came from the the decorated potted plants since the lanterns were turned off. With the approaching winter they wouldn't be using the outer garden, even though it wasn't too cold yet.

I approached the edge, welcoming the touch of fresh air when the chilly night air brushed against me as I looked over the railing. The view was indeed amazing. Millions of sparkling lights were spread like jewels over black velvet, outlining the streets and buildings of the city. I could hear nothing but the whistle of the wind and the distant static of cars now, the voices having fully faded somewhere behind me.

It was still silent, much too silent and it bothered me. Even more than the now budding headache. With my heightened senses it was hell in there, in the room, with the dozen of humming presences. Suppressing my ability didn't help either. It only caused me a nasty headache. But it was still better, considering the alternative was a sensory overload and possible passing out if it became too much. Humans just couldn't manage their energy field, their auras contrasted, clashed and intruded everything they came in touch with. They were lucky not to feel it.

“Enjoying the party?” a voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

I hadn't even heard any footsteps. Perhaps I had suppressed it a bit too far. I span to face him as graceful as I could and smiled, trying not to look unfriendly though truth was I wish he'd just go away.

“So far.” I said and it sounded too artificial even for me.

“You don’t have to pretend." he said answering my smile with a honest one of his own. "I too think it’s rather dull.” He flashed me one of those charismatic looks only sales agents or politicians were capable of. “It's the speech that drove the final stake though," he said, "the vegetables in my salad make for better public speakers."

He was a young man, probably in his late twenties or early thirties. He wore the same type of boring costume everyone else did, but his was even blander, dark grey, with a white shirt underneath and black bow tie around his neck.

Despite all my desperate prayers he crossed the few steps remaining between us and leaned against the railing besides me.

"That stunt was quite amusing though." he said with a smirk.

"Oh, you saw that." I said feeling my cheeks warm. No one was supposed to notice.

"It's cool," he said, "must have been one hell of a harpy to use such drastic measures."

"Not really," I mumbled, "she just wouldn't leave me alone." I would not feel guilty.

His laughter had a pleasant ring to it and I smiled.

"You work for the company?” he said his brown eyes turning to me.

I shook my head. “Accompanying.”

“Ah,” he said, “that would explain why I haven’t seen you around.”

That or the fact the firm was not particularly small.

“So, I suppose you do.”

"Public relations." he said. “I’m consulting.” Somehow he didn't sound too enthusiastic. He wasn’t bad looking, I noticed from up close, even with the receding hair line that he tried to hide by letting his hair grow out. “Nice view.” he said his eyes locked on the city.

“I’ve seen better.” I said with a shrug.

"Oh?" His eyes turned to me, the brow above them high. "So have I."

When I said nothing, he turned back to the city, eyes locking at the shining lights. The silence was somewhat pleasant and even thought I would have preferred to be left on my own his presence wasn't too intrusive. At the very least he seemed less annoying than most people I had met in there.

“So,” he spoke suddenly his voice a tone higher, “which side were you on?”

“Pardon?”

“In the war,” he said, “it would really suck if you turned out to be with the Council.”

My eyes widened as I took an involuntary step back.

“Yes, it does suck,” he said, gazing at me sadly, though there was something dangerous lurking in his eyes now, “but you’ve picked the wrong side.”