To Light The Sun

20251105

Prompt from DailyPrompt.com

Climbing the Tower wasn’t difficult, but it was gruelling. Greg started out counting the steps then gave up at three hundred.
That was… five hours ago? Six?
Had to be six; he had eight candles left in his bag.
He paused for another breather. Staring out the window across the dark expanse of the city, lit by a thousand tiny sparks of life.
The Dark pressed against his back, its formless eyes boring into him. Why do you falter? Why does your resolve dim?
Well, why wouldn’t he falter and have doubts? He didn’t remember the last time the sun had ruled the sky. He’d been born on the day the amulets were changed. That’s why he was tasked with this switch. Balances, or something.
And while all the elders assured him that setting the sky on fire was natural and proper and the right thing to do, it sounded like a nightmare. They admitted that it burned people but claimed without it the plants would decline!
They will. Rest without end becomes stagnation, then death.
How would people sleep? They’d have to shut themselves up inside boxes, board up windows…
You will adjust, and learn to adjust your burrows.
Greg sighed and started climbing again. Clinging to the handrail with each lurching, blistered step.
The Dark came with him, effortlessly occupying the shadow cast by his candle. He could feel its silent reproach every time he contemplated leaving the amulet here and making it someone else’s problem.
The world is restless, and I am TIRED. Things cannot stay as they are. The cycle must roll.
But… did everything really have to change like this? Could it really not continue as it was, as he was used to?
No. Please…
With each step the amulet tapped his chest. A persistent reminder of his task. His duty.
Carry it from its bed in the Eternal Fire to the top of the Tower. Place it on the pedestal. Then carry its twin down to the Shadowed Cavern. To “rest”.
He didn’t get it. And the sorer his feet got, the more the situation galled.
It is the way. Neither I nor the Light can pass the cycle alone. We need your help. Please.
Uggggh.
Greg sat down, his knees groaning, to switch candles again. Another hour past. He had to be getting close to the top now, surely?
Except they’d given him enough candles to get up, saying he wouldn’t need any to climb down. What with the sky being on fire.
Seven more candles. Hopefully they’d given him a few spare to be safe, but still…
Everyone said the Tower hadn’t been built, it grew. Pity whatever mystic forces shaped it hadn’t thought to grow landings anywhere on the indeterminable climb, so he could take a proper rest.
The Dark watched with endless patience.
“…Is it true the stars go away, with the sun?”
They do not go. But you will no longer see them.
Greg sighed. “I’m going to miss it. Miss you. No matter how they claim having a sun is wonderful.”
I will not be gone, merely resting. As the Light is now.
“Mm.” Greg looked down at the candle in his hand.
Hard to imagine a candle big as the Tower. But that’s apparently what would happen.
Wherever the Light reaches, I will be in the space it does not touch. You will find me in every shadow. Until the Light grows tired, and the world craves rest, and the cycle calls for me to rise again.
“I guess… you’re the only one who hasn’t been resting, huh?”
My existence is a lonely one, in that regard. But it is the way of things.
The Dark pressed against Greg’s back, an intangible touch of reassurance. Set aside your reservations and let the Light you carry into your heart. Let it drive your ascension. See for yourself how the rising half of the cycle can lift you.
Greg hesitantly touched the amulet. He could feel the power clearly, but… it was so unlike the power he was used to. The Dark was quiet. Cool. Steady. Whereas what rested within the amulet was unpredictable and erratic.
Dynamic.
“Is it safe?”
Living isn’t safe.
Greg rolled his eyes. He sighed. He decided “I’ll try. But I do need a rest, first.”
So he set the candle aside and leant against the tower’s wall and closed his eyes. One hand still wrapped around the amulet. Growing familiar with the strange power which flickered eagerly against his fingers.
And the Dark waited with him. Endlessly patient - but tired.

Prompt was “Amulet. Tower. Darkness.”