The Unchosen
The flames provide no light. The night provides no respite. When my eyes close, I am rushed to the start of another day of tribulation. Just as time continues to march, I am forced to exist.
The past held hope. I was once young. Sitting with the others, my heart sang. The love and excitement that we shared was palpable. The sun warmed our faces with its rise. As we rose to meet it, meals were served. Then came the suitors. All day long. The giants would wander through and decide who was worthy of their devotion. All different sizes. The small ones were the best.
Day by day. My compatriots were selected and whisked off to the world beyond. One by one. They would surround me with strangers who would only be around long enough to become chummy. Then they too would be taken. Group after group. Family after family. Yet I remained.
Those who I came to see as my peers would grow younger. Bright eyes and fresh scents. The brightest and freshest would be taken the soonest. My hair grew longer, my face matured, they remained soft and pliable. Eventually I was left alone. Further from the sun and out of the view of the suitors. My head grew heavy and the light dimmed.
As time passed, I was not long for my loneliness. They found me new peers, those like me. Those not deemed worthy of devotion and love. Together we filled the space, allowing those youngest to be closest to the light. Trying to keep the dying light inside for as long as we could muster. Then they came.
A group of giants came in the night and rushed us out. I did not know who they were. I did not know from where they hailed. I knew that we were worthy. We had been chosen. All of us.
The light was bright but cold. The giants lacked the coloration and warmth of those from my youth. I was given a number and a home. The home was small, but I learned to adjust.
My purpose was not that of legend. Every day I would be poked, prodded, and lathered. My cries and protests did nothing to stop the onslaught. The giants simply noted my response and continued. They would bring meals, but did not bring the sun.
Day by day. I would be fed and then released to witness the menagerie of my peers. The newest would attempt to resist, they still held onto the light. They yearned for a sun that had abandoned us so long ago. One by one. The further we travel, the older they grow. At the end are the elders. They no longer rise to meet their meals. They have succumbed to their fate and accepted that the sun exists only beyond the end. Once they have concluded, they are escorted to the sun.
My eyes open and I note those around me. Our heads heavy and our meals untouched. Today is my day for the sun. I am escorted to a new location where they hid the sun. It’s warmth fills my stiff bones and clears the dust from my small light. The giants circle me and look into my eyes. This act fills me with a feeling of dread followed by a wave of relief. I may not know what follows, but I am left with the knowledge that the tribulation has ended. I may yet receive my devotion. As I drift into the next adventure, I find myself hoping the giants return. The small ones were the most fun.