The kettle whistled sharply as bouts of steam were released from its snout. The hot water was rapidly boiling as Ben peered out of the window. It was misty today. If the clouds didn't disappear, there was no chance of seeing the Northern Lights again.
"Chirp."
The soft fluttering behind Ben drew his attention. The beautiful starling he rescued was happily hopping by the fireplace, picking on some stale crumbs. He seemed quite happy and energetic. Well, at least for someone that almost died.
"Chirp."
The bird looked up at him, his black eyes staring into his own as if he was trying to communicate.
Ben smiled, happy to have at least some kind of company, and placed another piece of cracker on the table for the bird.
"Here you go. A cracker for you and a hot cup of tea for me," he grinned as he poured the boiling water in an old mug.
He checked the window again, hoping that the sky had cleared up a little so that he could see the Lights again tonight. But judging from the low hanging clouds, it was very unlikely that the valley would clear up by night time.
"Chirrrp."
The young man picked up a small twig and extended it to the bird, urging it to hop on. The starling shrieked at the stick and clapped its wings a few times, before quickly jumping away and hiding under a chair. It chirped piteously for a little while, before nestling down on the ground and finally falling asleep.
He smiled as he sat down next to his sole companion, a slight pang of loneliness shooting through his heart.
He hadn't regretted his decision of coming here and even though he wanted to be alone, he felt the loneliness slowly gnawing away at him. It was just so dead quiet everywhere. He briefly wondered if it would be the loneliness or the cancer that would kill him first, but he quickly shook that thought out of his head.
It didn't matter anyway. Dying was dying and dead was dead. He didn't know how much time he had left, but he wasn't planning on seeing the Northern Lights again next year.
When his doctor told him he could still enjoy the time he had left and lead a happy and fulfilled life, Ben had snorted at him in utter disdain.
"Are you the one dying?" he had sharply asked the balding man, shocking him with his brutal honesty. The doctor had stuttered and flushed red in embarrassment before excusing himself and leaving Ben to his thoughts.
He wasn't one of those people that wanted to cramp a lifetime of experiences and opportunities into a year. He didn't want to do all the things he had planned on doing. For one simple reason. It wouldn't be the same.
Before his illness, he had thought about how his life would go. He had planned on finishing college and moving to the city, so he could live closer to his friends. He wanted to meet a nice girl and have kids that looked like them both. He planned to travel to the Arctic and study the effect climate change had on the habits of penguins. He always longed to own a dog that would bark at burglars and a cat that would keep his lap warm as he read journals in his rocking chair. He envisioned a cane with a silver handle and grandkids that called him "pappy". He wanted to find great pleasures in walking through a nicely tended rose garden and surprise his wife with freshly baked pancakes. He wanted to grow old with the love of his life and over the years, slowly wither away as life shaved off his time.
How could he possibly fit all that in a year? How could he ever cramp a whole life in the stupid sliver of time he had left?
The answer was simple. He just couldn't and he wouldn't waste any time trying.
And even as he stood by his decision, he couldn't help but long and yearn for all the things he would never get to experience. The laughter of his unborn children, the muddy paw prints on a new carpet, the smell of a thousand roses, the touch of a loving woman.
All he had was his lonely self, a frozen lake, the chirping of a wounded bird, and the wind howling around his cabin. And of course, the Northern Lights.
Those were enough to keep him going. To make the last days of this lifetime worthy of living. He just had to see them, one more time. To dance underneath them, one more time. And then finally, to fall asleep underneath them, one more time. His last sleep. His forever sleep.
"Chiiiirrrp."
The starling had woken up and was now loudly shrieking, pulling Ben out of his depressing thoughts. He cocked his head to one side as he wondered why the bird was distressed. He assumed he was hungry, but there were still some smashed up crackers lying next to the hearth.
"Not hungry?" he asked his little friend, crouching down and inspecting the bird. What else could he possible want? Did he want something else than dry crackers? Ben threw him a piece of dried sausage, but the starling just ignored it.
"Chirrrp. Chirrrrrp. CHIRRRRRRRP."
The black bird insistently whined, hopping up and down as he flapped his wings and made quite an annoying noise.
"What do you want?" Ben asked, studying the aggravated animal. There was obviously something he wanted to communicate, but he couldn't figure it out.
It would be a lot easier if you could just speak, Ben thought to himself as he stared at the shrieking bird, not quite sure what he wanted. He had never owned an animal before and even talking to other humans wasn't really his forte. So how the hell was he supposed to understand this jumping pile of feathers if he couldn't even make out what people meant when they used regular words?
"I can't help you!" he yelled, throwing his hands in the air helplessly. He stared intensely at the bird and wondered what else he could want. He had his own little pile of crackers, a small bowl with clean drinking water, and he could make himself a nest. He had everything to be happy, yet why was he making such an uproar?
But then again, there is more to life than the basics, Ben thought as he stared at the starling. He also had everything to be perfectly content, yet he didn't seem to be happy. He sat down next to the bird, feeling a little guilty for dismissing him so easily and extended his finger. He shouldn't touch him too much, but a little couldn't hurt. Right?
"Sorry, little guy. I got impatient. Tell me what you want and I'll try to understand," he said in a low voice, making sure not the startle the bird. "We are gonna be roommates for a little while. At least, until you are strong enough to go out there on your own."
"Chiiirp?" The starling tilted his head as he cautiously jumped around Ben's hand. He seemed to sound confused, but Ben wrote it off as his own imagination. Birds can't sound confused, can they? And even if they did, what would he know. He didn't know the first thing about birds or their behaviour.
With a decisive chirp, the bird seemed to make up his mind and hopped onto Ben's finger like it was a twig. His little head twitched to the sides, but when nothing bad happened, he seemed to relax.
"You are a funny little dude." Ben smiled, slowly reaching out to the sitting bird and with one finger, he carefully stroked the soft feathers. He briefly wondered if this would scare the starling, but the bird just tucked his head into his feathers and he seemed to relax. His black eyes slowly fell closed and with a very soft chirp, he fell asleep.
Ben grinned as he looked at his sleeping friend, happy that he had somehow managed to soothe the bird, even if he didn't know a thing about him. Now that the bird was asleep, he could study him a little better. There was definitely a little dent in his right wing and he missed a couple of feathers on the side of his head. Apart from that, he looked quite healthy.
He looks like my uncle with that bald spot. Ben grinned to himself as he softly stroked the starling's back. "I am gonna call you Walter. After my balding uncle," he whispered as he pulled his legs from underneath himself, settling in into a more comfortable position. He wasn't sure how much he could move with a sleeping bird on his finger, so he would just sit next to the fireplace.
Ben yawned as the dancing flames in the fire pit radiated onto his skin and stretched his back for as far as his position allowed him. He yawned broadly and with every passing second, his chin sunk more to his chest as he too fell into a slumber.
A loud noise jerked the young man awake as he dizzily checked around him. He was still a bit groggy from his sleep and it took him a while before he remembered where he was. He brought his hand back up and as he stared at the empty finger, he wondered where Walter went. He scrambled back up and extended his arm as he stretched the stiffness out of his limbs. Sitting on the wooden floor definitely hadn't done him any good.
"Walter?" he called out as if the bird would answer to his name like a dog. He checked the hearth but found the cracker just like he left it before his nap. The water bowl was empty as well and the only thing hiding under the chair was a handful of dust that made Ben sneeze.
"Okay... If I was a bird that couldn't fly... Where would I go..." he muttered to himself, looking around as he tried to imagine himself in the mindset of a bird. 'Where... Would... I... Go...'
I am too tall, he thought as he cracked his stiff neck and laid down on the floor, looking at his house from down below. If I was a bird and just had a nap, what would I do?
The young man crawled to the spot where they slept and looked around, wondering what would be appealing to a bird. The kitchen table? Nah, that was just one big chunk of wood. The fireplace? With the giant flames, no, thank you very much. The broom?
With his nose against the floor, Ben crawled to the broomstick standing by the door. He carefully lifted it up and a smile graced his otherwise stern face as he found Walter nestled against the bristles.
"Aww," he cooed, placing the broom back so that it formed a little tent over Walter's head. "Guess you found your own little nest."
Well, at least I have a good excuse not to sweep. He grinned at himself as he happily let the broom be a house. With a slight spring in his step, he let himself fall into his comfortable armchair and grabbed one of his favourite books.
With the wind clashing angrily against the walls of his house and the ambient sounds of the crackling fire eating up the dry pieces of wood, it was a perfect moment to read. He leant over to the small coffee table and clicked on the small lamp.
Nothing.
He flipped the switch a couple of times, but the lamp was dead.
He groaned as he pushed himself up from the chair and grumbling, he moved towards the window to look at the lights outside of this house. The young man cursed under his breath as the dim lights outside his cabin seemed to flicker for a moment and then died as well. The bad weather must've hit one of the connectors and killed the electricity in his little house.
He sighed as he grabbed the small flashlight he had stowed away in one of the kitchen cabinet drawers. He clicked the switch a couple of times, shook the item in his hand and tapped it slightly on top of the counter.
"Freaking thing..." he muttered as the light stayed as dark as the sky outside. What a perfect time to run out of batteries.
He let his hand glide over his head, touching the faint bump left over from his surgery, and scratched his nape as he wondered what to do now. Apart from the dancing fire, there was no other light source and he couldn't possibly rely on that.
The young man thoughtfully looked out the window, wondering if he'd be able to go a night without electricity, but as the wind howled through the canyon, he figured that the weather would only get worse as the end of the year approached.
And if the weather stayed this bad, there was no chance for him to go outside and get more dry firewood. He ran his hand over his head again and wondered how long the stack of logs outside would last him if they were really his only source of light and heat.
One week maybe? Maybe two?
Better fix this now, he told himself, deciding that there were too many unknown factors and he could get himself in a real pickle here. But then again, wasn’t this why he was here?
He shook that thought away as he focused on the task at hand. He needed to go check the fuse box, that was for sure. After all, that was what his grandpa always did whenever the cabin lost power. But going out without any light was just stupid.
"What to do now…" he muttered, looking around the house. What would his grandpa do in this situation? He scratched the stubble of his beard and tried to summon his grandfather’s presence, to draw on his expertise.
What would grandpa have done… The young man wondered as he paced around the living room, the wooden floor softly creaking under his step. He tapped his fingers on his chin as his grandfather always did when he was thinking and waved his fist in the air, pretending he was holding a cane.
"Youngster, you have grown too comfortable. Too comfortable indeed. In my time, we would build everything we needed ourselves!" he imitated his grandpa, waving his invisible cane around as he held his back for pretend arthritis.
That is when the only working lightbulb in the house went on. The one in his head.
There was a massive cellar underneath the house, but ever since his grandfather had passed away, nobody had found the courage to enter that trap pit.
When he was a little boy, he always found his grandpa stumbling around in there, as he had found another "prized artefact" as he would call it. Those prized possessions were usually nothing shy of junkyard material. An old radio, a piece of rusted golf clubs, a toaster that caught fire, ... The list was endless. But maybe, if luck was on his side, his grandfather would've kept some kind of spare light in there.
The cellar was hidden underneath a creaky trapdoor and as the wind blew stray flakes of snow in his hair, he used the latch to keep the door open, hoping that the moonlight would reach this deep down. Every step creaked as he descended into the dark hole of junk.
It took him several moments to let his eyes get used to the barely lit cellar and even then, he kicked his shin against an old lawnmower.
Why his grandfather had kept a lawnmower here, in a place where there was snow eight months out of the whole year, he would never understand.
He managed to knock his forehead against a low hanging bike, tripped over a bag of old tennis balls that went bouncing over the entire floor, and cut his arm on a spiky piece of metal. But in the far back, right next to a half-rotten workbench, he found what appeared to be an old hummer's spotlight.
With a triumphant grin, he pulled the rather heavy metal spotlight out of the cellar and brought it inside his cabin. To his surprise, the old thing actually seemed to work, although the light wasn't as bright as it could've been. But at least it was bright enough to take with him as he checked the back of his cabin for the fuse box.
With his parka zipped to his chin, he braved the first real storm since he had got here to check out the fuses. But when flipping them all up and down a couple of times didn't seem to change a thing, Ben had to wonder if the problem was maybe bigger than just his tiny cabin.
He gazed up into the cloudy sky, wondering if it would start to snow anytime soon. Would it be immensely stupid to take the trip to the overhanging cliff to see if the lights in the town below were out as well? Or would it be worth the risk?
As the cold hugged him in a clingy embrace, Ben decided that he should go now before it got so bad he couldn't be outside. He patted himself warm as he heaved the spotlight onto his back. The clouds obstructed any light coming through from the moon and going out without any light would just be pure madness.
He only made it barely halfway to the town, before the clouds released all their pent-up water and filled the sky with a mixture of snow and hail.
Damn, I need to get to the cliff quickly, he thought, pulling his vest tighter around his body and trying to ignore the wild storm. With lost snow persistently attacking his face, he almost crawled towards the one spot where he would have a semi-clear view of the village down below.
The otherwise moderately lit village down in the valley was now just a dark spot in between the curved landscape. He briefly wondered how there could've been such a power loss and hoped that the lights wouldn't stay out too long.
The village's lights slowly flashed on and for a brief moment, Ben rejoiced. But he had celebrated too quickly, as the town fell dark again.
At least, kinda dark, Ben noted, wondering how he still had such a clear view in this awful weather and with the power outage.
He braved the storm and angled his head towards the sky. The clouds had cleared and millions of stars graced the blue sky as an ocean of green and purple lights swirled through the heavens.
How did I miss that? Ben wondered, staring in utter astonishment at the unobstructed view he had on the hauntingly beautiful Northern Lights.
In comparison to the other night, the sky was much clearer and the stars, oh, the stars somehow seemed to decorate the Lights like expensive jewels. Ben couldn't remember a moment that the Aurora had looked more beautiful.
As he took a moment to stare in awe at the beautiful Northern Lights, the cold wind quickly reminded him that he couldn't stay here. He heaved the spotlight back on his back, ready to trek back home.
Hello.
Ben’s head jerked up as he thought he heard a voice. He quickly scanned the area for another person, but as the cold wind roughly attacked the side of his face, it became quite clear.
There was no one else.
Must’ve been my imagination, he thought as he pulled the hoodie of his jacket tighter around his face, packing himself in. Must’ve been the howling wind… Yes, the howling wind… Not hello, but hooooo, he reasoned, but even as he thought so, an undeniably uncomfortable sensation settled in as he checked around him again. He could swear he felt a pair of eyes pricking at him on the back of his head. It felt like he was being watched, but he was all alone. Of course he was.
You must be going coo-coo from the cold. Go back inside, you idiot, he cursed at himself, shaking the insane thought out of his head as he tore his eyes away from the sky. He dragged his cold body back to the cabin and put the kettle on, craving a hot cup of tea.
"You are going insane. Utterly insane. You must be mad... Utterly mad. You are talking to yourself. Stop talking to yourself," he muttered as he impatiently paced around the living area.
He glared outside his window, observing how the wind clashed against the walls of his house and the snow had turned into the beginning of a blizzard. If there really was someone that said hello, he or she would not survive this storm.
"Positively mad. You are mad. Mad, mad, mad," he repeated as he grabbed his parka. Not even believing it himself, he got back out into the freezing cold. He zipped his parka up to his chin and pulled the strings of the hood taunt around his face. He knew that the coldest part of the night was still to come, but he couldn't stop himself. He needed to make sure his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. It had done that before...
Determined as ever, the young man waded through the high heaps of snow as the sharp wind lashed against him with every step, almost as if it was trying to discourage him. But Ben didn't give up against the relentless storm and step by step, he found himself closer to the frozen lake.
With almost no care for the storm, Ben stared up into the sky as he took another moment to admire the never disappointing Northern Lights. As always, they were bright and mysterious, decorating the night sky as they always did.
And just like before, that strange feeling befell him. That prickling in the back of his head as though somebody was boring straight through his skull.
He let his spotlight glide over the snow, searching for a sign of disturbance. A broken branch, a footstep in the night, a set of eyes watching him.
Nothing…
With a pounding heart, he tried to reassure himself. There was nobody else here. He clicked the light off and as he did, it briefly flickered up in the sky.
Hello.
Icy shivers ran down his back as Ben heard that same voice again. This time it wasn’t his imagination. He was sure. He heard it.
He jumped up as he scanned the area with his spotlight, hoping he would spot the intruder before it found him.
"Who is there?" he yelled, his voice trembling as he put on a brave face. "I am armed!" he squeaked, grabbing the metal chair he had left by the lake as he held it like a baseball bat. "Show yourself!"
I am here. the voice answered as Ben jumped around, shining the light frantically around, trying to pinpoint where the voice was coming from. It echoed all through the valley and seemed to come from everywhere.
" Where?"
I apologise. I didn't mean to cause you any distress. There was this empty spot and I channelled my energy here, the voice calmly answered.
Ben slowly brought his right hand up towards his head, not believing what he was about to do. He ran his fingers over the back of his skull, where he felt the scars of his surgery. An empty spot… There was indeed an empty spot in his head. There used to be a tumour there… Did it grow back and give him hallucinations?
I am not a hallucination. My name is Ym’e.
And you are in my head? Ben thought, softly exploring his head, trying to remember if there were any other indications of the tumour growing back.
Yes. Your light touched mine and I found this place that I could fill. Is this considered rude on your planet?
Ben snorted as he shook his head, thinking over the question. Was it rude to enter someone’s mind without permission? He guessed it probably was.
That is fine, but a warning would’ve been nice.
I am sorry. I received your reply through my lights. I thought it to be an invitation. I will be more considerate next time.
Next time?
Yes. If you so desire.
Okay then... So what are you? he sceptically asked, wondering what kind of craziness his mind could make up.
I am Ythereann.
Yther...?
Ythereann.
Ehmm... Okay? What is that?
Ythereann. In your language, Light Beings. We are wandering souls, restless beings without a physical body, aimless in everything we do. But long ago, we were finally given a purpose. To guide, protect, and light this universe. And we accepted that task. But now I am the only Ythereann left.
Oh, I am sorry to hear. Ben apologised, feeling rather foolish for saying sorry to his tumour. This tumour should be apologising to him.
So, you said I reacted to your message. What message?
My Lights. Look up. Above you.
Cynically, Ben looked up into the night sky as he admired the beautiful colours weave in their endless dance.
He repressed a loud snort and rolled his eyes. This tumour sure was creative.
So you are the Northern Lights? he sarcastically asked, shaking his head as he carefully touched the side of his face. Did he have a fever?
Oh no, that is just my signal. My message to Earth. But you are the first I found to communicate with.
Yeah, sure. How is that exactly?
The light you shone, it alerted my signal. And I transferred part of my consciousness down here, but humans usually can’t see or hear me. But you had this beautiful empty place in your head and it seemed quite cosy. So I thought I’d visit you here.
Ben angrily exhaled. Yeah, like the tumour you are.
I am not a tumour. I am Ym'e, the last Ythereann that inhabits this galaxy.
Prove it. Ben thought, as he started to wonder about his sanity. This tumour was starting to make up really weird stuff.
How would I do that?
I don't know, swirl your Lights for me or something. Ben yawned as he decided he should get some sleep before he completely lost his mind.
I will oblige.
Ben laughed out loud as the voice so casually agreed to his insane request. He turned his face towards the heavens, deciding to humour this tumour and himself. Like it could actu...
Words couldn't describe the utter awe and amazement that overtook Ben. The shivers ran straight down his spine as he wordlessly stared up into the blue sky, his mouth falling open as he was struck by the wonder unfolding right in front of his very eyes. The endless swirl of Lights that he had been admiring for so long, twisted and turned, bend and bounced as they weaved elegant strings of colour into the winter sky.
"I... What the..."
Was that to your liking?
"Oh my God. Oh my God! This can't be real. It can't be..." he uttered as he ground his fist into his eye sockets, not believing what he saw.
Did I do something to offend you?
Ben shook his head, as if trying to shake the voice out of his head, but as he felt that tingling sensation in the back of his skull, it seemed pointless. There was really something, someone, talking to him inside of his head and it wasn't his disease.
He closed his mouth and let out a long deep breath.
I... I just need to process this. I... This is amazing. I mean, there is life outside earth?! He rattled, his thoughts racing through his mind as they reached Ym'e unfiltered.
There is a lot of life out there, but the humans never seemed capable of finding it. But I finally found you.
Ben sat down in the crappy foldable chair he had left behind there, as he rested his head between his knees, trying to stay calm under the gigantic discovery he just made.
I am in awe. I can't believe this. I just... Wow.
I told you my name, but what do I call you? Is human appropriate?
Ben chuckled at voice in his head. At least this alien had a sense of humour.
You can call me Ben, he answered dryly, never imagining that he would introduce himself to... An extra-terrestrial being.
Ben. It is a true pleasure to meet you.
Likewise, Ben thought, still not sure what he should make of all this. Was this even real? Or had he passed out and was the cold slowly stealing both his sanity and his life?
Have you been around long?
I am 26 years old, Ben answered, as he grimly added for only himself: And I will never make 27.
Oh, you are still very young then.
I suppose, yes... He incredulously thought, trying to gauge how bonkers he had to be to make up this kind of stuff.
He slapped his stiffened hands against his cold cheeks as he thought about the possibilities:1. He could've become absolutely crazy over the course of one night and was now making up this whole insane slump of nonsense. 2. Ym'e was actually an extra-terrestrial light being.
Ym'e. Ythereann. Northern Lights as her message. Alien from outer space. Communicates through the gap in his head.
Nope, couldn't have made that up myself, he concluded, going with the other, equally unlikely possibility. Ym'e was an alien. An actual alien and she was talking to him. Great. Yeah. Why not?
So, what have you been doing all this time? Ben casually asked, as if talking to an alien was a daily occurrence.
I have been watching over this galaxy, that is it. There are many more dimensions, but I like this one the best.
Don't you get bored?
I wouldn't say bored, but it definitely got lonely.
Alright then. So, Ym'e. You say you have been around for a long time. What is the craziest thing we humans do? he challenged her, one more test to see if her answer was so out of the box that he couldn't have come up with it himself.
Probably all the fighting. You steal each other’s light too easily. We Ythereann cherish each other’s light and taking it would be sacrilegious.
Our light? You mean, our lives? Ben wondered, for a moment forgetting he was talking to himself.
Oh, yes. You call it life. All of you are too careless with it.
Some of us don’t have a choice.
What do you mean?
My life… Well, my light is going out and it has nothing to do with anyone else.
I am sorry to hear that. To me, you shine very brightly.
Thanks… I guess?
I welcome you.
No, you are welcome.
I am welcome too?
As Ben snickered, he briefly noted how deludedly crazy his laugh sounded as it echoed through the deserted canyon, but decided to dismiss that. If he was going mad and this was his new normal, at least it was entertaining. He could imagine starting to like this new normal.
No, I meant that if someone says "Thank you", you reply with "You are welcome". Not "I welcome you". But it was close.
Oh, thank you for explaining that to me, Ben, Ym'e answered, sounding quite happy.
At least she is polite, Ben thought, suddenly wondering if this alien had access to all the thoughts that flashed through his head. Can I ask you something... Delicate?
Ask me all you want.
Can you hear all the thoughts in my head?
No, only what you want me to hear. Only what you send to our place here.
Ben let out a sigh of relief. At least his thoughts were still private and his own. No matter how interesting this being was, he still wanted some of his memories to be his own. Memories of his mother as she took care of him when he was sick. The first time his little brother said his name out loud. The moment his father had patted him on the back and told him he was a real man now. The scent of his first girlfriend and the feel of her lips. The giant field of poppy flowers behind his house that would colour the hills red. The sounds of the crunchy pile of leaves as he jumped into it with his dog. The glimmer of a pearl he found on the beach as it reflected the sun. The cabin filled with the smell of freshly baked cookies, his grandmother's speciality. The rings of smoke his grandfather would mindlessly blow as he sat in front of the hearth. The unbelievably beauti...
He almost forgot he wasn't the only voice in his head and jumped as Ym'e spoke up.
Ben, the sun is coming up. I can't stay here.
Why not?
That is a long tale. I could tell you tomorrow night?
Yes, I would love that. I will be here again. I promise.
So will I.
And with those words, the spot on the back of his head grew cold and that unnerving sensation of being watched disappeared. Ben was completely alone again. But he didn't mind. For the first time, he didn't feel alone. For the first time, he was looking forward to the next day. For the first time, he prayed this wouldn't be his last day. For the very first time, he wished not to die.