When the Light Flickers
921 Words
The Hollow Market was still ringing in Lucien's ears as he stepped onto the platform beside his guardian. He didn't want to board the cable carriage—his stomach twisted at the thought—but he said nothing. He never said anything.
High Attendant Calmoros, robed in radiant whites trimmed with gold and draped in the scent of ceremonial oils, waved away the Temple clerks and reached for the iron handle of the cabin.
"Come, Lucien," Calmoros said, his voice like syrup poured over stone. “It’s time we return to the sky.”
Lucien obeyed, folding into the carriage's shadowed interior like a string drawn tight.
The ride to the Solstice Mountain Temple was long and silent at first. The carriage creaked along its high ropeway, ascending toward the glowing temple spires far above the clouds. Below, the landscape stretched in cool blues and snowy whites. The sun was setting, casting shards of amber through the sky.
Calmoros broke the silence with a sigh of indulgence. He uncorked a glass vial and let the scent fill the cabin—a warm, spiced aroma. The Burnt Tongue Wine shimmered gold-amber in the crystal cup he poured.
“Drink with me, Lucien,” he said, setting the second glass on the sill between them. “You’ve earned it. Your presence at the Hollow Market today... stirred the faithful. They saw you glowing.”
Lucien’s pale fingers twitched on his lap. “I… I don’t like the taste,” he murmured, staring out the window. The reflection showed Calmoros watching him. Always watching.
“It’s not about taste,” the man replied, swirling his cup. “It’s about communion. It warms the soul, softens the mind. That’s what faith should feel like. Isn’t it?”
Lucien’s lips parted, then closed again. He gave the smallest nod—barely a breath’s worth—and Calmoros smiled.
By the time they returned to the High Chamber of Light, night had swallowed the temple. A few monks passed in silence, heads bowed. Lucien walked a step behind, like a shadow not yet convinced of its own shape.
Inside the chamber, incense was already burning—violet smoke rising from curved dishes on crystal pedestals. Lucien’s room shimmered with filtered light from high windows, casting cold halos on the walls.
“You may undress,” Calmoros said gently. “I want to see you, not just the robe.”
Lucien hesitated. He didn't move.
Calmoros stepped forward and reached for the clasp.
Lucien flinched, just slightly. Eyes wide. The fear was never in his words—it lived in his shoulders, his clenched hands, the way his gaze always dropped to the floor.
“I… I had a vision today,” Lucien whispered. “In the market. I saw someone.”
“A beggar?” Calmoros teased.
“A boy,” Lucien said, more firmly than he intended. “His eyes were… wrong. Shadowed.”
Calmoros froze at that. Then smiled.
“All the more reason to cleanse your soul tonight. A single glance from the profane can stain you.”
Lucien’s robe slipped to his elbows. His breathing turned shallow.
Then—a flicker. A tremor in the flame. The air hummed.
“...What was that?” Lucien whispered.
Calmoros turned. “A draft. Nothing more.”
But Lucien knew better. The light shivered. His own power sparked, involuntarily. And then—
A dark bloom unfurled in the corner of the room.
The shadows deepened, thickened, and Renji stepped forward with a smirk, tugging his hood back.
“Funny thing about drafts,” Renji said, “they’re usually warnings.”
Calmoros gasped and stepped back. “You—! How dare—”
Before he could speak again, a thread of darkness licked up his face. His eyes clouded over, black, and he shrieked.
“My sight! What did you—?!”
Renji tapped his temple. “Shadow sees more than light ever will. You’ve been judged.”
Lucien stood frozen, arms crossed over his chest, robe loose. He was shaking.
From the doorway, Nayara stepped in, hand outstretched. Time folded around her like ripples in water. Her voice was calm, but edged.
“Lucien,” she said. “You’re coming with us.”
He shook his head. “I—I can’t. I don’t understand what’s happening.”
“We don’t have time for that,” Renji snapped. “We’ll explain later. Fancy wine boy’s out cold in three… two—”
Calmoros collapsed, the wine glass shattering.
Lucien stepped back. “You… you didn’t hurt him?”
“Only what he deserved,” Nayara replied coldly.
Renji moved closer and offered his hand again. “Come on, Sunshine. You looked better in the market.”
Lucien finally took the hand. “You… called me that before. Why?”
Renji grinned. “Because you’re too bright for this dark place.”
Nayara pulled her hands into a delicate shape. A glow of warped time shimmered outward.
“Hold on.”
The chamber stretched. The floor melted. Time slipped like sand through trembling fingers.
They landed in the Sunscorch Barrens, the night heat rising from the dunes, the smell of ash and wind rushing around them. Lucien collapsed, coughing, sand in his mouth.
He blinked, looking up at the stars above a freedom he didn’t yet understand.
Renji crouched beside him.
“Welcome to the edge of nowhere, Lightboy. Let’s see what happens when you stop being their candle... and become your own flame.”
- Writer
