The sun reached its apex in the sky.
As it begun to sink, the harsh afternoon desert heat lessened in intensity, allowing Reca a slight reprieve. They had been driving in a straight line across the featureless desert for many hours. Their encounter with a girl on the rocky banks of Hell River was just that morning, but it somehow seemed evanescent- the only proof Reca had that it wasn't a dream came in the form of the beat-up metal raft in the back of the van, and, to a lesser extent, the absence of the prepper man's little wagon.
The desert all looked the same. It was tough for Deca to believe she was making progress- she turned to the mountains every once in a while, reassured only by the fact that they were slowly inching closer. The sparse clouds in the sky floated along at a sluggish pace, but Deca couldn't seem to outrun them.
Reca passed the time by mentally turning the shifting dunes into magical landscapes. Perhaps, long ago, this place was farmland, or a jungle, or a densely-packed urban area with brilliant steel towers taller than the mountains in the distance. Each little hill was a dwelling for goblins; each major peak held a secret treasure chamber. One aspect of her real-time experience permeated her delusions: the sound of the loose sand moving via the wind almost resembled tinkling glass bells.
Reca's mental state fell into a cycle. Sleep on the dashboard, wake up, look down at the map, look up at the mountains, daydream about fantastical places, listen to the bells, fall asleep again. It was tedious, boring, and, with the heat, exhausting, too. Reca never wanted it to end.
On the twenty-seventh iteration of her cycle, Reca looked down at the map, just as she had done twenty-six times prior. This had become an intuitive, absent-minded gesture, but this time something was different- as the heat begun to clear up, so did her mind, and she realized for the first time that Deca would soon reach the location where the first of the black circles on the map was drawn.
The curiosity from earlier in the day returned with a vengeance. When she looked out at the dunes this time, they were no longer goblin hideouts or hidden treasuries; they were set pieces, environmental flourishes on the road to satisfaction. She knew that the markings might have been made to warn future readers of danger. 'That's alright', she thought, attempting to convince herself she wasn't worried. 'We could use some danger.'
Before long, something unsettling loomed on the horizon.
It bore a striking resemblance to a mirage, flickering and wavering furiously. It was dark gray one moment and white the next, fluctuating like TV static, but it wasn't confined to any sort of TV- it hung in the air, varying in transparency, like an unstable patch in the fabric of reality. Nothing about it slowed or stabilized no matter how many times Reca blinked. It was mildly unsettling from the start, but as Deca powered sluggishly towards it, it suddenly started emitting what Reca could only conceptualize as a foreboding, evil aura. She wondered if Deca felt it too, but to her growing discontent, she noticed that Deca was actually moving faster and faster towards it.
"D-Deca," said Reca, opening the window and feeling an unnatural chill. "Let's go around it instead."
Deca let out an agreeable honk and begun to turn. Suddenly, she swung around in an involuntary arc and Reca realized what was really going on. Her stomach dropped. Deca hadn't been driving quickly towards the glitchy patch- she was being pulled towards it!
The pull was still there, and this time it acted on Deca sideways, yanking her lengthwise towards the static. She skidded and tried to power through to no avail- the harder she struggled, the stronger the near-magnetic sensation seemed to pull. Two of her wheels came off the ground and she lost so much leverage that shutting off her engine became entirely useless in slowing her down.
In one final motion, Deca- with Reca inside- went careening off the ground as if sucked up by a hurricane. Was it over? Was it really over?
Deca was too nauseous to process the static field, which was now approaching ever-rapidly. She crossed her arms over her head as if that would stop her bones, moving at the speed of sound, from breaking into dust when the van inevitably slammed against the wall. This was it. Reca had never put much thought into the nature of death, but found relief in the fact that she'd soon know everything there was to know about it-
Three- the wall was almost there.
Two- brace, brace, brace for impact.
One-
There was no crunch. Not of Reca's bones, and not of Deca's metal shell. The van came to a screeching halt.
When Reca opened her eyes, she saw stars all around. They weren't in the sky, though- they shone with a cozy yellowish glow and adorned the trellises, awnings, and eaves of... the buildings that surrounded the van. Where had the duo come? Was this heaven? Was it hell? Had Reca actually arrived in hell after she specifically turned around to avoid it?
It didn't really seem like hell. It didn't seem like heaven, either, come to think of it. Reca got out of the van and, with a few dizzy steps, came to rest on the edge of a white stone well near the van's resting place. She could look around at everything now, but none of it did anything to clear the situation up.
Deca had come to rest in the center of some sort of village square. The buildings- shops, houses, and restaurants, judging by the signs on a few of them- were all built of stone and painted in a creamy shade of white. The floor beneath her was made of rough, irregular cobblestones, and the airspace above her resembled a starless night sky. That wasn't quite right. Night skies had color- they sometimes glimmered in shades of dark blue and violet, no matter how slight. This was different. It was as if someone had sucked the sky out of existence with a planet-sized vacuum, leaving only a blank abyss devoid of color and texture.
Reca's attention drifted to the little lights that she had noticed earlier. Suffice it to say, they weren't real stars, just illuminated ornaments that decorated every eligible surface in the square. They cast everything in sight into a pale, cozy glow, and Reca suspected that, without them, her surroundings would appear as black as the sky- there were no other light sources nearby, and even the lampposts were just filled with bundles of the shimmering balls.
It was a pretty sight, but it was quickly overshadowed by Reca's newfound mental acuity and, with it, her rekindled confusion about her situation.
She noticed that Deca was parked between two buildings. Unless she had somehow phased through the building behind her, there was no way she should have been able to get there, right? The static wall probably acted as a portal to this place, wherever it was, but Reca could see no trace of it, and thus no possible way of getting back to Wastelandica. Moreover, Deca's position made it nearly impossible for her to move without crashing into one of the structures nearby.
She walked back over to Deca, did a quick once-over to make sure she hadn't sustained any damage, and then climbed up to her usual spot on the roof. Nothing more was visible from the higher vantage point, save for the roofs of a few buildings outside of the square, which were also decorated with the little starry lights.
"Don't worry, I'm confused too," she told Deca. Unusually, Deca didn't respond.
"Who are you talking to?" came a voice from right behind Reca. She nearly fell onto the hood in shock, but managed to narrowly avoid it by scrambling to the edge and then turning around.
There was a woman on the roof with Reca. She had a long, formless white dress on, reminiscent of a bedsheet with a few holes cut into it, and she wore a string of lights in her strawberry blonde hair. Reca hadn't heard her climb up the ladder. Had she really been that spaced-out, or did the woman somehow...?
"I'm sorry," she said. "I meant no harm."
Reca had no time for formalities.
"Where am I? Who are you? How did we get here? What's up with the sky?" As Reca rattled off her complex list of questions, she stood up and backed the mysterious woman towards the other side of the roof. "What are those lights? What year is it? What time of day is it? How long have you been here?"
"Hold on, young one," responded the woman in a tone of voice so calm it almost seemed like she wasn't being cornered on top of a van by an irate, confused girl. "I cannot answer any of your questions if you are not patient with me."
Reca glared, but stopped asking questions. The woman crab-walked to the ladder and slid down without even placing a foot on the top rung. Reca, unable to replicate her elegance, half-slid, keeping one foot on the ladder all the way down and landing unimpressively on her back.
"Choose your questions wisely, for I must get to the ceremonial fire soon."
A ceremonial fire, huh? That would certainly warm Reca up.
"Okay, first question: what is this place?"
"I'm surprised you don't recognize it," said the woman. "This is the village of lights."
Reca could have guessed.
"Question two: where is this place?" The woman was about to answer her, but she quickly elaborated to avoid any confusion. "I mean, what surrounds it? Is it part of Wastelandica or is it somewhere else entirely?"
The woman's face contorted a bit.
"I'm afraid I don't understand the question."
Reca was at a loss for words. How could she explain it any differently than she just had?
Just as she was about to start with question #3, she felt the woman's hand on her shoulder.
"Come- sit by the bonfire and I'll fetch Tatiro. Perhaps he'll know how to answer you."
"Who's Tatiro?"
"He's our village elder, I suppose. He coordinates the Festival every year. Many centuries ago, he helped a visitor like you- I cannot give you more details. I was working in my family's bakery at the time."
The woman looked young. Did she just imply she was here many centuries ago? Moreover, she was apparently old enough to work at that time. There were other questionable things in the statement, too- what was the festival she mentioned? What about the other visitor from long ago?
"Alright. I must be going. If you seek an audience with Tatiro, come find me at the bonfire," the woman said, walking away through one of the streets that led away from the square. "You won't be able to miss me. Oh, and by the way- that thing you're talking to is a van, not a person."
Reca felt insulted.
"She's also my friend!" she called, staying by Deca to prove a point.
The woman let out a weary sigh and disappeared behind a building.
Reca wanted to take Deca to the bonfire just to show the woman up. There were two problems with that plan: one, Deca wasn't responding when she talked. Two, Deca was sandwiched between two buildings and would have difficulty maneuvering out.
"I'll come see you soon," said Reca, hoping desperately that Deca could still hear her. There was no response.
With a heavy heart, Reca left via the same path the woman had taken earlier. It wasn't dark between the buildings- the strings of lights made sure of that- but it was eerie nonetheless. She felt as if the walls would suddenly slide inwards and crush her at any moment. The path got thinner and thinner as it meandered towards a bright, busy area somewhere on the other end.
By the time Reca could hear the sounds of what she assumed was the bonfire, she was walking sideways; it was the only way she could fit through the increasingly-narrow alley. She closed her eyes to avoid getting dust in them as she entered a portion so tight that the opposite wall began to rub against her face. Then, with a scoot, a lurch, and a pop, she left the alley and stumbled forward onto her belly.
The first thing she noticed was the smell.
It was really an amalgamation of a hundred different pleasant fragrances- cinnamon berry pastries, hot chocolate, roast veggies in sweet, spicy sauces, rich dark chocolate and light, sugary marshmallows. She could hear the merry-making of easily a thousand people, chattering, ordering food, making polite conversation, singing along to festive, chaotic lie music that carried itself to her on the wind. The most prominent noise (except for, of course, the instruments and voices) was the steady crackling of the bonfire.
Another noise cut through the party- the voice of someone standing over Reca.
"Are you okay?"
She finally rolled over and looked up. Looking down at her with a look of concern was an adolescent boy in a white garment almost identical to the woman from earlier's; the main difference was that he had a string of lights wrapped around his waist to keep the fabric together.
"I'm fine!" Reca became flustered at the idea of muddying the jovial atmosphere with her complaints.
He smiled. Did he radiate warmth, or was that just the bonfire? Reca welcomed the feeling either way.
"You don't have any lights on you. Wanna come get some with me?"
Reca didn't know what to say. She decided to ignore her insecurity- which right now, was saying that the lights might be some sort of brainwashing tool or life-force-stealing-device- and take the boy up on his offer. He held her hand and led her through the party, past kids playing with plastic planes and adults dancing together to a jubilant accordion song, past wooden tables laden with food and stalls peddling carefully wrapped gifts. The two of them arrived before too long at a little shop, illuminated on the inside and the outside by thousands of the city's starry namesake lights.
An older woman with a face that resembled the boy's came out.
"I see, I see. I have just the thing," she said before Reca could even greet her. With that cryptic statement, she abruptly turned and went back inside, then vanished into a back room.
"What was that?" asked Reca.
"Don't worry," said the boy. "She's just working her magic."
A minute later, she returned with two small light garlands. Reca reached out to take them, but to her surprise, the woman placed them around Reca's hair buns herself. She then pulled a mirror from her dress (which, as Reca had noticed, looked very similar to the clothes everyone else was wearing) and offered it to Reca, who peeked through the fingers of one hand at her own reflection, half-expecting to see some sort of glitchy monster staring back. To her relief, it was just her, wearing the garlands in her hair- it was only now that she noticed that the light had no apparent energy source. It kept shining regardless.
She would have removed the ornaments, but she decided she couldn't do it in front of the two kindly people who had given them to her free-of-charge. She would do it eventually, but it could wait until later- she needed to find the woman and talk to Tatrio.
Everyone was wearing lights, even the little baby in a stroller she could see out of the corner of her eye- she wanted nothing less than to arouse suspicion, and she still suspected that there was some hidden dark side to the joyful town and its white-clad citizens. No one had been hostile to her before she was wearing the garlands, but she didn't want to take any chances.
She scanned the crowd for the woman, but came up empty.
"What are you looking for?"
"Oh- there was a woman who was supposed to take me to see someone called... Tartio, I think."
"Tatrio!"
"Oh, so you know him, too?"
"I'm kind of surprised that you don't!"
The boy grabbed Reca's hand again. She nearly asked him to stop, but before she could say anything, she was being dragged through a crowd of dancers in what almost passed for a mosh pit. By the time the boy finally slowed down, Reca was sure she'd bumped into (and apologized to) at least fifteen people.
"Next time, you gotta warn me before you do that."
The boy laughed.
"It wasn't a joke," huffed Reca.
"I actually have to go back and help my ma hand out lights," he sheepishly replied. "If you wait here, you should see Tatrio soon."
Reca was about to ask how she was supposed to know what Tatrio looked like. The boy was already running away, though... without warning. How typical of him.
Reca was still standing there and tapping her foot three minutes later. She considered just going and having some fun at the bonfire, maybe digging into some of the food. The atmosphere was infectious. To prevent it from taking over her mind entirely, she imagined a tape player on repeat. 'Save Deca, find way out, then party if you have time,' it said. 'Save Deca, party, find way out'... Hey, wait, that wasn't right!
Spelling out her feelings wasn't working. Just as she begun to fidget, she saw the woman from earlier approaching with an man on her arm. He wore the same white robes as everyone else, but he was nevertheless distinct from them in terms of accessories- he wore a headband, a necklace, two bracelets, two anklets, and eight toe rings, all made of light garlands. It could only be Tatrio.
"This is the visitor I told you about," said the woman to Tatrio.
"I see," he replied. "Well, she certainly doesn't look like she's from around here."
What was that supposed to mean? Reca didn't know whether to be offended.
"Young one," he said. "Do you come from Andistronica?"
Her heart skipped a beat. How did this man know about Andistroncia? How had he identified her as being from there on sight? Was it something about the way she was dressed...?
"I ask because, long ago, we were visited by a man who said he was traveling through the desert to found a colony called Andistronica. He mentioned that he'd mark our location on his map so that future generations could visit us. Until now, no one has. From your reaction, I suppose you were using his map?"
She nodded. Man, what were the chances?
"Well, that and... when the other visitor arrived, it was in a van just like yours."
"Huh?"
Reca didn't know how to interpret his statement. Just like hers, as in...
"It might have been the same van. My memory isn't what it used to be. It had the same pattern on the side for sure."
"Hold up. How did you see the van?"
"Caille here took me to see it after she informed me of your arrival."
Okay- that made sense. Reca could breathe easy... or could she? She still had no way out!
"How did the first visitor leave?"
"Unfortunately, I know not how he vanished from this place. He disappeared without warning when midnight struck and we turned off the lights."
"You turned off the lights?"
"I suppose it should not be surprising that a visitor does not know of our customs," sighed Tatrio. "Very well. I shall explain our village festival customs to you. Come inside."
He pushed on the door and it swung open into a dark kitchen. Was it not locked? Reca wasn't too concerned with the security (or the lack thereof) in the village- she needed to get back to the desert as soon as possible. Then again, the aromatic feast outside was calling her name...
Reca shook her head back and forth like a wet dog to fling away the intrusive thoughts, paying no mind to how unusual she looked doing it.
Tatrio had already turned on the lights in the house. They were, rather unsurprisingly, the same little glowing balls that permeated every inch of the city. He beckoned her to sit down- compared to the lavish decoration outside, the house's interior was sparsely furnished and minimalist. She chose a chair across from Tatrio at his dining table. The woman sat down next to him and scooted her chair so that their sides were touching. Who was she to him, anyway?
"Long ago," began Tatrio, "most of the lights in the village were in the sky."
"Stars," Reca said.
He didn't seem to understand her.
"Our village was one with a tradition of natural light. In the day, we would work by the light of the sun, and at night, we would revel by the light of the stars and moon. Once a year, we would give thanks to the lights in the sky for their tireless work- we would decorate the streets with false stars, light a bonfire, and then extinguish both come midnight, reminding out citizens of what they had taken for granted. Today is the day of that festival- our festival of lights.
Unfortunately, when I was a much younger man, the sky was plucked from above us on the eve of the festival. So was the horizon. We had no choice but to put up the lights."
"So you had to change your traditions?"
"Not so."
Reca balked. Did the people of the village live 364 days of the year in darkness?
"We created an official decree, or rather I did when I inherited the title of village elder. The original village elder vanished along with the sky, and so I, his oldest son, was chosen for the title. I decided to maintain our tradition, and I refused to forsake the sky because back then I had hope that it would someday return to us.
I decreed, on my second day as elder, that within the village of lights, each year would last no more twenty-four hours."
Reca almost laughed at the absurdity of what she was hearing, but the grave seriousness of Tatrio's voice prevented anything from escaping her throat.
"So," coughed Reca, "Each year is only a day long? And that day is the festival of lights?"
"I understand that it sounds strange, but we could not abandon a tradition so deeply held as ours. Surely you realize that."
"I suppose. I just... does that mean that you count your ages differently?"
"Yes," said Tatrio. "For instance, Caille here is 10803 years old."
Reca tried to do the math in her head, but realized it was sort of a useless endeavor. What would she gain by finding out how old Caille was in Wastelandican years? Nothing useful for getting out of the city, she was sure.
She breathed in and caught a whiff of the sweet air that still lingered in the house. If the festival was every day, how were the people still so full of joy? Had years of isolation driven them insane?
"I gotta go."
Reca stood up and made for the door. If she could get some fresh air, maybe things would make sense. Upon opening the door, though, she was bombarded once again with happiness- a feeling that wound its way through the air via the sounds, smells, and sights everywhere she turned.
If all she had to do was wait until midnight, maybe she could try some of the food in the meantime... no.
Reca couldn't quite think straight. Was it just her, or was something else going on? The absent sky threatened to swallow her up. Her breathing exercises drew her further and further into the flavored air, and her appetite grew and grew.
Unable to rationalize anything, Reca realized the scents were messing with her common sense. Seeing no other way out, she took one last breath, filled her cheeks with air, and ran, silencing her regard for the festivalgoers, bumping into people, squeezing through tight alleys, and winding her way out of the busy district and into the silence beyond.
The smell was gone. The festival grounds were behind her. She breathed. The air here had no smell, just like the sky had no color.
Aside from the lights that still hung on the buildings, there was no indication that anyone was here.
Earlier, Tatrio had mentioned something about the village no longer having a horizon. The buildings were so densely packed that Reca couldn't see anything in the distance, but she was admittedly curious what a horizonless horizon would look like. She could just keep walking away- away from the food she feared, as well as away from the possibility that she was delusional and denying herself a good meal, which she also feared. Midnight would come regardless, and then she would wake up back in Wastelandica... right?
She wondered what life would have been like if Andistronica had been ripped out of time as well. Why was it that this town had been 'chosen'? What could even cause the transportation of a whole settlement to a dark pocket dimension only accessible via evil portal?
Reca looked up. A strange feeling of deja vu settled over her. Had she walked past this place before? There was a cylindrical house with three windows on top of each other to her left and a dark apartment building to her right. She kept walking, but her train of thought, already derailed, was tough to get back on the tracks. Sure enough, two minutes later, she looked up and saw the same cylindrical house and the same dark apartment building. Was it repeating infinitely, or was it some sort of loop?
Reca reached up to scratch her head and felt one of the light garlands. She had forgotten about them! Ripping them off her head with her accumulated anger at both herself and the village, she placed them at the doorstep of the apartment building and continued on. If it was a loop, then-
She arrived at the same junction again. Her garlands were still there on the step.
It was a loop after all. That was what Tatrio meant when he mentioned that the village's horizon had been taken away.
Reca took a moment to enjoy the silence, but as her ears acclimated, she slowly realized it wasn't silence at all. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear the sound of glass bells.
Maybe Wastelandica wasn't so far away after all.
She stuffed the garlands into her pocket, no longer concerned with fitting in, and returned to the scene of the party. She had walked away for twenty minutes, but it only took her five minutes to get back- maybe that was why everyone was celebrating. There wasn't really anywhere else to go, after all. Her fear mingled with pity.
A clock hung from the awning of a pastry shop. 11:38, it read. 22 minutes to midnight. She didn't want to lose Reca upon her return to Wastelandica, and so she made it her mission to sit where she always did until the clock struck and the lights went off. The smells no longer drew her in, and she made it to the square where Deca was parked without a hitch.
Around ten minutes later, the woman who had greeted her at first appeared again from the alley. She carried a mug of cinnamon-flavored hot chocolate.
"Good luck on your journey, wherever you are going," said the woman, handing the chocolate to Reca. She accepted it.
"I'm supposed to be going to a place called NukeCorp. You heard of it?"
"I have not. I am not the type to study what life was like before the sky was stolen."
"Don't worry- nobody on the outside seems to know anything either."
"What is the outside like?"
Reca thought about how to answer. There was the rocky land she had come from, and the acid river, and the snowy land that Rivergal had mentioned out west.
"There's nothing there. I think you're sorta lucky, actually. If you weren't here, you'd be buried by the desert."
"Perhaps we would be. Perhaps the vanishing of the sky was a reprieve from fate."
"I liked meeting everyone," said Reca. It was only half-true.
"And we enjoyed meeting you," said Caille. "It is three more minutes until midnight. I must man the switch. I will see you... or perhaps I will not."
"Likewise."
It was three minutes, but it felt like three seconds. The lights of the city flashed off in an instant. Everything went black, even though Reca never closed her eyes. The music stopped. The smell of food vanished. Different sounds became prominent again- the revving of Deca's engine. The tinkling of imaginary glass bells.
The darkness parted, and the sky was back. The sparse clouds in the sky floated along at a sluggish pace. The sun was setting. There was no sign of the static wall- only the same old featureless desert.
"Let's go to NukeCorp," said Reca, and Deca flashed her interior lights in agreement. Deca absently scratched her side... and noticed that something was in her pocket. The light garlands! They were still shining, though it was hard to tell with the sun up. She slid them on over her arms as bracelets.
The hot chocolate was still there, too. She picked it up to drink it. Halfway through her sip, though, she felt an odd bubbly sensation coming from the cup. It was dissolving, turning to static in her hands- ditto for her bracelets.
As the items from the village faded away, she felt the cocoa turn to static in her throat.
It felt like carbonated water for a few seconds, and then it was gone.
The engine revved again and she put the events of the festival behind her as best she could. There were horizons to chase here- she had to chase them. There were people out there who might never see a horizon again.
The mountains inched closer.