End of the World by child_dragon
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Ever wonder what happens when something ends? There are
strands of others woven into each thing and if it ends for one, do all others
end? Does an eraser destroy more than just a drawing, but a person as well? And
what of those things of the utmost transitory nature - the dreams that visit us
each night. What of they? Who is in control and who is to say if they are real
or not? If you had the key to one, what would you do with it? Do we hold the power
to bring something to an end, is that granted to us? Do we have the authority?
And if we don't, what then?
When Silara went to sleep that night her life
was made perfect. She didn't know this immediately but the fact was there, buried
deep within her subconscious for when she woke up in this new world. It was
in the quality of the light, how it streamed in at just the right angle from
her windows across the floor. The slightly grayed walls of her apartment were
gone and replaced with a pale yellow that reminded her of an early spring sun.
The carpet was cream and looked like it was brand new. All this seemed very
natural, from the glorious fresh feeling that suffused the place to the quality
furniture and decorations that lined the walls.
She slipped from her bed and carefully pulled
the covers across the mattress, admiring the comforter. Silara had never really
considered herself a girly girl but there was something inherently right about
having a Fyora print bed and the matching furniture. She couldn't explain it,
just as she couldn't explain the fresh breeze that swirled through her red fur
when she opened the window. It smelled like tulips outside and she leaned out
over the windowsill to see a garden growing beneath. The broken glass was gone
along with the dust and dirt that littered the lot her apartment stood on. Everything
was radiant.
The Zafara dressed slowly, breathing in the
summer air and wondering what she should do for the day. She didn't have to
work anymore, not with the fortune she now possessed. It seemed odd, that she
would go from doing all right in a rather cheap apartment to not having to worry
about Neopoints ever again so quickly. But this was her life now. There was
no memory of how this had happened - it just did. She woke up and life was perfect.
It was a bit of a surprise to not find her best
friend and roommate, Tracy, in the kitchen. But then Silara remembered that
she had a one-bedroom apartment now since she could afford rent and Tracy lived
across the hall. Rach was next door as well. She couldn't remember when that
had happened either. It just did. This was a fact.
Tracy came to her door shortly after she had
breakfast. Silara warmly let her friend in. The spotted Gelert surveyed the
apartment and Silara noticed that she was carrying her purse.
"We going shopping today?" she asked, smiling.
"Of course! Rach coming?"
"Duh."
And Silara remembered that she hated shopping
and actually preferred solitude. It was more comfortable to her to be alone,
in the quiet with her thoughts. She wasn't really an outgoing person and it
never bothered her. But today, with everything perfect, she knew she liked going
shopping with friends and enjoyed being outside. They picked up Rach, a faerie
Aisha, and left the apartments. There were no water stains on the ceiling of
the stairwell.
She led the trio to Neopia Central and everyone
smiled and everyone was happy. The sun was surreal and she could smell flowers
everywhere.
"I wish I could live here forever," she said
to no one in particular.
"You do," Tracy replied. "What are you talking
about?"
"I don't know." And she fell silent for the
rest of the shopping trip.
By the time they'd blown most of the Neopoints
they'd brought with them Silara was wondering just why this seemed so transitory.
There was fragile feeling to it, just a simple statement that she would leave
this place and life would no longer be perfect. It was like a flower blossom,
beautiful while it lasted, but not eternal.
She found that everything she hadn't liked about
herself was gone when they stopped for lunch. That allergy to peanuts? Not there.
Her fur was sleek and she was slim and strong. Perhaps she could even hold her
own in the Battledome - this was her world after all and she could do anything
here. That thought threw her for a moment and she sat still, the chatter of
her two friends buzzing around her while she pondered this. Her world. Was it
just her world, though? She looked at her two friends and wondered if it was
their world, as well.
"Hey, you going to get up today?"
There was the sound of footsteps just outside,
in the hallway.
"Yo? You awake?"
The door creaked open, throwing a rectangle of
light across the dark room.
"Hey, it's morning."
Nothing.
Shortly after noon, Tracy reminded her that
she was going to meet with Erik down near the lake. Silara froze. She didn't
know anyone named Erik.
"You know," Rach said with a giggle, nudging
her, "Him. How could you forget? You've been going on about him for weeks."
"I have." She meant it as a question but it
didn't come out as such.
So they parted, her two friends waving and vanishing
into the crowd, leaving the Zafara alone on a sea of bricks spiraling out from
a fountain in the middle of the plaza. She blinked and turned towards it, watching
the light refract off each droplet that fell, like a cascade of diamonds. There
was so much detail here and the light never changed. She looked at the sky.
A void of blue. Did anything change? Maybe not. This was perfection.
It was a long walk to the lake from Neopia Central.
For a moment, Silara considered renting a carriage to carry here there but the
thought was quickly dismissed as silly. Her world, her rules. And she spread
her arms and willed herself there.
The Gelert and Aisha stood on either side of the small bed. The room was dark,
the curtains drawn, and the paleness of the walls sucked all color from the room.
The attempts to brighten it didn't do much for they were only half-hearted ones.
"She's late for work now," the Gelert said softly.
"I don't understand it."
"Should we get help?"
"I don't know."
It took Silara a moment to orient herself. The
lake was there, hovering in the distance around a bend on the path. It glittered
and beckoned to her. Erik would be waiting there and with a jolt of panic she
dug into her purse, trying to see if she had a picture of him. How would she
recognize him? Slowly, she realized that it wouldn't matter, that he would recognize
her, and besides, she didn't have any pictures of him, anyways. He was probably
beautiful though. Yes, he was. Silara was sure of it.
A squared off shape hovered in the corner of
her vision and she turned. The wind picked up and pulled her ears back, ruffling
the red fur along her arms. There was a house there, made of wood the color
of honey and intricately carved along the doorframe and windows. She moved towards
it. The garden was well tended for and the dirt path leading up to the doorway
was free of weeds. There was something wrong though and she wasn't sure why.
The house itself was in shadow with only the occasional beam of light breaking
through the trees. There were leaves along the roof and all the windows were
curtained and dark. She walked up and carefully tried the door. Locked. But
there was a key in her purse. Her hand hesitated over it and then slowly closed
over the cold metal.
The pet on the bed was utterly still. Her chest rose and fell, slowly and regularly,
and her heartbeat was normal. There was a fluttering to her eyelids but it quickly
passed. Maybe her hand curled a little under the covers but other then that, she
didn't show any sign of consciousness. The Gelert was pacing the room, her arms
across her chest. The Aisha had pulled a chair up to the bedside and was just
watching.
"Maybe the faeries will know what this is," the
Gelert said nervously. "This has to be the work of a dark faerie or something.
Anything."
The interior was dark but bore every sign of
being a very cozy retreat for someone. It was quaint, quiet, and crafted with
love and attention to detail. She moved through the entryway into the living
room. There was someone else there, a Maraquan Draik. He was lying twined around
the coffee table and had his head raised, looking directly at her.
"Excuse me," she said softly. "What is this
place?"
"The end of the world," he said in reply and
she knew that of everyone in this place, he alone shared her knowledge and perhaps
even held more. "Or rather, just the end of your world."
"It's a puzzle," she replied. "If I solve it,
the world ends."
"Yes. Go upstairs."
She nodded and did what he said. The second
floor was even darker and there seemed to be dark splotches along the wall,
leading to a bedroom. The door was half-open and she saw more darkness along
the floors and walls. A thrill of terror ran through her and she knew with utmost
certainty that she didn't want to go into that room. There was something horrifying
there, something that told the full story of this place and what had happened
here. Not everything was perfect in this in world, not for everyone. Just her.
So she turned aside into the bathroom and tried to ignore the small stains near
the doorframe.
"I think I saw her move."
The Gelert leapt to the side of the bed and
hovered a hand over the Zafara's forehead, trying not to actually touch her.
"You sure?"
"I'm sure. She kinda flinched and look!"
The Zafara's head rolled to one side and her
lips curled up. Then everyone was still and even breathing seemed loud.
Silara found a blanket strewn on the tiled floor.
It didn't belong there. She picked it up and carried it back down to the living
room where the Draik was still waiting. He didn't say anything, just watched
with eyes that never blinked. The Zafara hesitated by the sofa, slowly folding
the blanket with both her hands. She knew, just as she had known that this world
was perfect, that if she put the blanket where it belonged, part of the puzzle
would be solved. And then she could solve the other pieces and the world would
end. It was a very important task that had been given to her.
"But if the world ends, what of everyone else?"
she asked and stepped away from the sofa, over to the brick hearth of the fireplace.
It was burning but there was very little warmth.
"We go away," he replied. "But this is the end
of your world, not ours."
"This house," Silara breathed, gazing at the
beams of the ceiling, "doesn't belong to me. It belongs to a girl who had someone
she loved. He went away, for a very long time, five years actually. And she
finally grew sick at heart from waiting for him. How is this just my world,
when there are more stories than just mine?"
The Draik did not answer her and she thought
of her friends. Across the room, just behind him, she saw a door with a heart
shaped hole cut into it. There was red glass filling the empty space.
"He comes home tomorrow," the Draik said, "and
will find that in his absence he has lost her forever and will be heartbroken.
End it then, so he does not find out. This world must end, even with all the
stories it contains."
"I can't. This place is perfect and it is not
just my world. You are here, they are here, and if I end it they will end too."
"We do not care. This is meant to be."
"I care."
And she dropped the blanket onto the brick.
Quickly, she turned to go and was aware of the Draik's eyes following her. When
she opened the door, she saw another Zafara standing at the edge of the main
road, waiting for her. Erik, and he was very handsome. She ran towards him and
the door swung shut behind her.
The Gelert had left. She was going to find someone that could possibly help,
going to the light faeries and Fyora herself if necessary. This was beyond them.
Back in the room, still encased in darkness, the Aisha sat and held the limp hand
of the Zafara. There were tears in her eyes and every now and then one would fall
across her cheek and vanish into the cloth of her shirt. Her lips moved without
ceasing, uttering soundlessly a single phrase, over and over again.
Please Silara, wake up. Please Silara, wake
up.
Back in the house, the Draik watched as a spark
fell from the fire to land on the edge of the blanket. There was a puzzle here,
a very simple puzzle that Silara already knew the answer to. The spark flared
and caught, sending shadows of orange and black dancing across the room. It
reflected in the Draik's eyes who still did not move from his post. This was
the key and here he would remain. The fire spread; consumed, and seemed to whisper
a phrase a thousand times over as it coursed through the house that was the
end of the world. Please Silara, wake up.
The End
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