Today we are writing short stories – original pieces, based on a shared bit of art. This one by Laura Diehl is enchanting. I wonder what you think?
Parker Broaddus
Author of A Hero’s Curse & Nightrage Rising
Light Out of Darkness
Akari knew Grandfather’s stories. The stories of creation–of the sun and moon and wind. Of Amaterasu, the sun goddess, of how she put her light into the darkness of the sea and brought forth life. Or Akari’s favorite, of how the goddess hid from her brother in a cave. Akari knew how the sun goddess felt. Sometimes she wanted to hide from her brothers too.
Grandfather’s face would grow serious, and his white eyebrows seemed to grow even bushier and more wild than usual when he told of Yomi, the land of the dead—but then his eyes would crinkle with laughter as he told of how the gods tried to get Amaterasu to leave her cave and give light to the world once again. “It is light that gives life.”
“Light, and love,” Grandmother interjected.
Grandfather harrumphed at being interrupted, but he nodded all the same. “It’s true. And your name means ‘light,’ little one,” he would tell Akari. “Maybe you are related to Amaterasu.”
Akari liked that. She liked the sun, warm on her face, and the way it brought life to the world, tempting new pink buds to peek out of hiding on the hill cherry trees, or teasing the sea otter into playing on the warm rocks at the edge of the sea.
“Yes, you are light and sunshine,” Grandmother grinned, “but even the sun must go to bed!” And she would send Akari scampering across the yard to her own home.
And usually Akari would trundle off to bed, complaining and dragging her feet all the way.
But this night was different.
For one the moon was low and round and full. It cast its light through Akari’s bedroom window and she could not sleep. It lit the room and her books and the niche where her ancestral guardian stood in shadow, and the empty crib across the room. Akari’s mother came in to check on her before turning down the last lamp. Akari was very still. Her mother kissed her gently on the cheek and moved away. Akari peeked. Her mother had stopped at the empty crib. She ran her fingers across the beautifully engraved rail and sighed a deep sigh before slipping out of the room.
Akari sat bold upright. Life. Light. That was it!! She slid out of bed and tiptoed to the niche in the wall. She ignored the guardian. It couldn’t help. She had already asked–hundreds of times, but it was just stone. The real guardian’s spirit was somewhere else, feasting. It only checked in once a year or so, when the family left an offering. Everyone knew that.
Her fingers found the small box of beads. She opened the finely carved lid. They were dull and almost black in the pale glow of the moon. During the day they were brilliant blue, like the sea. Supposedly sacred, but Akari didn’t believe it. She put them back. The little man who had sold them said that they came from one of the northern temples, but she suspected they probably just came from a cheap shop in town. There, behind the little box was a small pouch. She pulled it out and opened the mouth of the leather satchel. Perhaps it was a trick of the moon–perhaps it was something else–but the white sandy dust seemed to shimmer and sparkle like diamonds.
Akari smiled. Yes. This was something. It hadn’t been sold out of the same wagon as tin pots and copper kettles. This had been handed down from one set of grandparents to another and was even older than the guardian. Grandfather didn’t know when it had first come to the family, but the stories said that it might have come from the temple of Amaterasu. Dust from the floor of the temple, trod upon by the gods.
Akari didn’t think so. There was something more here. She could feel it. See it. Related to Amaterasu, most definitely. But more than dust from the floor. Of that she was certain. Akari balled the treasure in her fist and moved toward the door like another moon shadow. She paused at the crib. “I’m coming for you little sister,” she whispered.
She knew where she must go. The light must meet darkness. Akari broke into a trot, past her grandparents home, down the slope and across the tiny red bridge to where the boats were tied. She gulped when she saw the water. The moon’s reflection bounced off the top of the water, but could not pierce the black depths. Akari untied the little boat her father had made for her and hopped in, clutching the sand close. With one hand she unfurled the miniature sail and let the moon breeze push her out into the deeper water. Water lilies bumped happily against the boat, pleased to see a visitor.
Akari opened the purse a fraction, just to check. Sure enough, the full light of the moon seemed to give the sand an unearthly glow. Akari looked back guiltily at shore, and the two dark smudges that were her home and her grandparent’s house.
“Just a little,” she said aloud. “She was such a small person…”
Akari leaned over the side and said a quick prayer before sprinkling a handful of the precious dust into the black depths.
Her eyes went wide. She believed the sand had come from Amaterasu, but seeing and believing are two different things. Now she saw. The sand floated away from her, as if on an invisible breeze, and seemed to glow even brighter upon meeting the dark sea. Something quick and wet darted up and swallowed her offering.
“No!” Akari hissed. “You stupid fish! That isn’t yours to take!” She waited a moment before sprinkling another trickle of dust on the surface of the water. This time she saw them coming. Several fish. They were easy to see because one of them was glowing with a light from within. Soon several fish were glowing. They swam under the boat, and in great gliding circles, playing in the light they cast.
Akari’s mouth was open. She sprinkled some more sand in the water. Soon she could see clear to the bottom of the depths. She could see the lily pads long stems, and their gently waving arms.
But then she was out of sand. She almost cried then, for while the fish were pretty, they were no substitute for a sister.
Akari steered her little boat home. On shore she quickly filled the little purse with sand from the beach and then retraced her steps home. She tucked the pouch back in its place and crawled into bed, full of wonder and disappointment, unaware that something new had been born that night.
It was not until many years later that Akari thought of her light and that it could be related to the sightings of the ningyo, or half fish, half human, along the coast where she lived. But to this day, if you see a ningyo, and you mention that you know Akari, they will grant you a wish, as a thank you to the girl who gave them light and life.
Robin Lythgoe
Author of As the Crow Flies
Golden Girl
The third plank in from the window was the one that squeaked, and Mashika avoided it as she climbed carefully through the window, shrouded in summer’s warm shadows. Getting caught sneaking back into the house after hours was not a good idea. Light came from downstairs in the kitchen. Someone was still up. She held her breath, and after a moment she heard voices speaking. Mama and Papa were still awake.
“There’s no choice,” Papa was saying. “We’ll start tomorrow night.”
Patricia Reding
Author of Oathtaker
He Needed Her
by Patricia Reding
Copyright Patricia Reding 2020
Crimson waxy leaves glistened in the waning sunlight, chattering amongst themselves as a cool breeze moved through. In the distance, the cat-like cries of black-tailed gulls sounded out.
Kaida flitted down the garden path toward the sea. On reaching the water’s edge, she came to a sudden halt. Before her and a short distance from shore, tiptoeing from one semi-submerged rock to another, an egret meandered. On sight of her, he spread his snowy white wings, then took to flight, joining the mewing gulls in their happy airborne ballet. Kaida grinned at the bird’s gangly legs that seemingly dragged behind, but then quickly turned serious once more. She had to get back to KanaRyu as quickly as possible. He needed her.
than a series of stick figures.
