A Fine Black Sky
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A spider, small and nervous, found the indents on Kid’s fingers a playground of epic adventure. It wandered one way, then contradicted its direction, until it found another source of entertainment, all under Kid’s watchful gaze, his one good eye caught up in the meagre struggle of the tiny creature and it’s desire to succeed in its endeavour. It was perhaps an anthropomorphised personality Kid had instilled within it’s motivation, giving an arthropod a bipedal intent, yet Kid let the small eight legged animal alight his hand and continue a journey it had started upon the dusty shelf in a corridor just off the Apprentice’s Quarters. The spider picked its way along the cold stone, until it hit a vertical and began to ascend. Kid watched it for a pregnant few seconds, willing its success, regardless of it’s ability to reason a choice, until eventually Kid’s attention was pulled to something else within the wide unused walkway that circumvented the tower, in its many layers and angles, connecting all parts of the Tower with all the other parts. Exploring was something inherent in Kid, and he used this innate skill often, desiring a place to belong amongst the inanimate and once imbued with desire objects he found, gathering dust and becoming homes for the insects that thrived upon the darkness. Kid often thought of himself thus, as he too thrived in the hidden world, just out of sight.
There were numerous signs of particular defence in ordered clutter about the hidden places Kid had recently found within the South Tower. Kid at that moment stood before a heavily polished shield, perhaps a little less than his height, the countless dents that had once penetrated the surface of the shield had been expertly reshaped, by a skilled Worker, quite obviously many years gone, simply by the logic that peace existed intently throughout the City of Unity, which would mean it had not been worn or used in malice, or temperance, for some time. Yet it was coveted, as it had been continually polished to a mirrored surface, where Kid could see the rugged marks that denoted he was truly the Broken Boy, and not a mirage or with imagined concealment from vision of himself, which would often bring on the feeling of pain and longing when he looked in a reflective surface, being a reminder and a token of his uniqueness. It was not the same face Kid would see in his mind - it would remain that one which brought about so much derision, revulsion or mockery to Kid’s young fragile equilibrium, sending him darkly into reflection of what would await him for many years to come.
Within the object that held back the creatures of the light, when once the Tower had been a Watch Tower to they who desired what was within those protected Towers, Kid suddenly became aware of something, darker still than the corridor itself, a short distance behind him, but when he turned, there was nothing, save the soft footed marks of Kid’s progress through the dust covering of the corridor, one clear step and the other a dragged imitator.
Unrelenting, Kid sensed whatever it was or could be, remained behind him. Yet upon peripheral examination or direct reflective gazing through the shield, Kid could not again reproduce the blink of darkness. And so, anxiously, Kid pushed further down the long corridor, forever looking out of the corner of his eye at any reflective surface he could find. The foreboding followed like a constant companion, its motivation unclear, when Kid found himself at the bottom of a thin set of spiral stone steps leading upward. He followed them, hoping to lose the shadow, or at least garner a look at the prankster, potentially ascertain its desire through a mirror. Perhaps it smiled, grinned with jocular and barely held laughter, or it furrowed its brow in uncertain intent, but likely negative in connotation. Even climbing the stairs, the shadow remained, in sense only - never in sight. It was crafty, that was a well defined contention.
The stairs led to a single door and nothing more. Kid turned the handle, forcing the infrequently opened door ajar, rushing inside and slamming it hard behind him. The space appeared to be some kind of bedroom or day room, where the furniture had been covered first by a white sheet, then a caked layer of dust, which whirled efficiently in the suddenly caught breeze that had entered the room for the first time in decades, almost waking it and causing it to animate in illusionary life.
The white sheet that covered the long oval mirror, its surface tarnished from years of neglect, slipped its meagre moorings and fluttered to the ground, throwing up more dust and obscuring the reflection. Kid almost caught sight of something moving behind him, but the thought moved on when a glow from one of the veined power-channelled pipes that could be found throughout Unity, became exposed delicately through its worn away casing, under the eaves of the stone wall, providing the thinnest sliver of light, but enough to dispel any darkened patch present in the silvery surface of the mirror reflected to the ground behind Kid.
The identity of the one time occupant of the room seemed important right at that moment for Kid, and a sudden thought of spirits was partially dismissed from his mind, enough to allow him exit from the room, and not to remain stationary through fear or apprehension. He had felt similar senses back in the North Tower, but being too young to be aware of anything outside his own tiny solipsistic and selfish world, those notions of such potential ethereal concepts were neglected in the pursuit of the simple joy inherent in the act of exploring - finding something new and understanding it. Perhaps that was why he wondered upon the occupant of the room, so far away and isolated from others in a dark and neglected aspect of the Tower - that they may have been a kindred spirit, and perhaps the same was imprinting on Kid’s soul within his own solitary world, bereft of the simple things of life that so many others seemed to enjoy as a matter of course - namely friendship, companionship and comfort from the both ideals.
Still curious, Kid left the room, earmarking it for a future investigation and took himself back the way he had come, toward the alien world of socialising and grouping with mutually assured decisiveness and motivation amongst his peers.
The sensation remained that he had not shaken his pursuer. Indeed, the still firm weight upon his retreat pulled him instinctually to attention, and though Kid no longer felt scared, he did remain curious as to the identity of his friend, be it benevolent or benign, malicious or hostile.
Kid angled his eyes to look to the panels of small windows that graced the far end of the corridor, close to the Apprentice’s Quarters for any distinguishing sign of the shadow. With his continued consternation, nothing could be seen, as the candles and lights of the Apprentices who mingled about the large communal hall beyond the door Kid now stood at, prevented an opportunity to observe a shape in shadow, as the only reflection that appeared was the mocking walks and the exuberant natures of the other children who had been chosen for, or had been foisted upon, the Apprenticeship Program, haphazardly galavanting in the unfettered energy of the truly young of body and spirit.
Alas the weight remained about Kid’s shoulders, of this burden with the shadow never seen, which was enjoined and embraced by the differences between Kid and his peers. He could force out a tear, but he had lost most of the reservoir of emotive response when Muet had died. Many more he would have shed for his Mother, but right now, right at this time, he had to be a stalwart, unaffected by deliberate ignorance. Without it, he knew he wouldn't survive his childhood, so he put on his best farcical attitude in order that the other Apprentices could not see behind the mask at what he truly felt and held self evident in his limited understanding of the world he really and honestly inhabited, as a citizen, a Son and a boy. Yet it could not prevent the darkening of his inner confidence, such that at night he would stare into the nothing above his bed - the veiled darkened world - and wonder if it wouldn't be better out there instead, in that simple comforting nothingness?
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