When The Dawn Light Breaks – A Short Story

By Hannah Hershberger

A boy sits alone on the beach in the predawn stillness, running his hand through the sand. It's cool, the sand, fluid like silk. Not that he feels it. He's numb, not the sort of numbness that comes from cold, but the blankness of emotion that follows the death of someone you loved. 

     She's gone. They buried her on the cliff top overlooking the sea, the one she used to run away to in her free time. She's gone. It was as though he had blinked and she was dead. He hates the numbness, because it may dull the pain, but it doesn't hide the memories. And memories are far worse than pain, because they force him to acknowledge that she was here, that she walked on this earth, no matter how short that walk was.

     A bow and quiver sit on the sand beside the boy. In the quiver lies a single blue feathered arrow with her name on it. A custom of her people. To shoot an arrow with the dead's name far into the sea. He doesn't know why he brought it, his hands are numb with cold and grief, the farthest the arrow would fly would be a few yards.

     Just looking at the bow makes the memory replay again, like has every night since her death.

     The dawn had broken along with the enemy. After hours of fighting, they had won. The land was finally free from the pestilence that had fouled it for so many years. He found her in the meadow. She was on her side, her body curled around the vicious black spear in her stomach. He'd fallen to his knees beside, trying to function through the waves of shock and horror that were rolling over him.

     She'd rolled painfully over to face him. "Hello, Xandel," she whispered. Her breathing was light and quick.

     "Hey, Mera," he said shakily. "You hold on. We'll get you to the healers soon. You'll be alright."

     She'd shaken her head with a soft laugh. "No, Xandel, I'm finished. Spear wounds are almost always lethal."

     "No," he protested vehemently. " You're going to be fine. You've just got to hang on until the healers get here, that's all." Silver rivulets flowed down his cheeks, pale gold in the new dawn light.

     "Xandel," she'd murmured. "We both know there's not five minutes of life in me."

     He shook his head dumbly, refusing to accept her words. The tears dripped from his face to hers.

     She'd reached up and stroked his cheek. "Shhh, it's okay Xandel. It's alright. I'm not afraid."

     His hand rose to cover hers.

     She smiled. "It's okay," she'd repeated. "It's alright. I'm not afraid."

     "Why?" he asked brokenly.

     "Because," she whispered, a serene peace filling her face, "I'm saved. I know where I'm going, Xandel. I'm free." 

     The tears had stolen his voice. He nodded.

     "Good. Don't mourn me, I go to our King." Her breathing quickened and her chest rose and fell rapidly. 

     She died as the dawn's fire blazed over the hills

     He runs his hands through the sand again, seeking solace in the way the grains flow through his fingers. The dawn's beginning to break now, faint hints of golden fire beginning to stain the gray pallor of the sky. The threads of light remind him of another dawn, a much happier one. He sighs, and lets the memory play, because even though it hurts, the ache it brings is a good one.

     They walked along the beach, side by side. Mera had doubled over laughing at something he'd said. He'd grinned, her lilting laughter music to his ears. It was unseasonably warm, the predawn shore faintly illuminated by the receding stars. 

     "Are you worried about the Nornai?"

     Her laughter had jolted to an abrupt stop. She walked in thoughtful silence for several moments. "No," she'd said softly.

     "Really?" his eyes had widened in skepticism. "You're not afraid of a massive northman swinging a massive blade at your head?"

     "Yes."

     "Why?"

     "Because the Nornai are human.They can be reasoned with"

     "They've enslaved our people for hundreds of years. How can you say that?"

     "Because humans are mortal and by that means, temporary. They will eventually fade. If not by our attempt to remove them, by someone else's."

     "I don't understand."

     "Look." She grabbed his hand and tugged him to the water's edge. The waves nipped at his bare toes as the surf rolled in. "Do you see the dawn?"

     He beheld the amber tendrils that were snaking across the fading ink of the night and nodded.

     "The dawn has always broken, Xandel. It has ended the night since the beginning of time and will continue to end the night until the sun is extinguished and the stars fall from the sky."

     "But-" his protest was cut off as she laid her cool fingers across his lips to silence him.

     "The Nornai are the night, don't you see? Just as the night is not forever, the Nornai are not forever. If we fail in this endeavor, it will not be in vain. Someday someone will look back on our attempt and they will try again. Eventually the time of the Nornai will end. It may be in our lifetimes, it may not. Regardless of that, their night will end and our people's dawn will break. That is why I am not afraid of them; because they will fall, no matter what happens."

     He nodded again. "The night is but temporal, the dawn will always break?"

     "Precisely," and her hand had slipped back into his

     For a long while they stood, hand in hand, ankle deep in the surf, watching the sun rise.

     He sits for an age in thought. Mera's words, so vehemently spoken, settle at the forefront of his mind. "The dawn has always broken, Xandel. It has ended the night since the beginning of time and will continue to end the night until the sun is extinguished and the stars fall from the sky." He realizes that, just as the night of the Nornai had broken, so the night of his grief will break. He will never forget Mera, but his grief will become something sweeter. He will cherish her memory, tell his children and their children about the girl he loved, who had shown him that the hard things did not last forever. After all, humans are temporary creatures and Mera's Savior was his as well. He would see her again.

     With that realization, Xandel stands and walks into the honey-colored waves and fires Mera's arrow into the brilliant fire of the dawn.