The Walker

The Walker

A cascade of dazzling light ruptures the dark sky and drifts downward.
The air holds no sound.
Only the Walker’s breath breaks the silence.

The light falls like embers from a dying fire—
slipping through the trees,
settling on the forest floor
where it rests like sleeping fireflies.

This is new to the Walker.
There has never been this much light here before.
Something has changed.
He must have finally arrived.
It has been so long.

A flute startles him as he stands in awe among the drifting lights.
He turns and begins to walk toward the sound.

The flute is beautiful—full, gentle—
its melody reaching out,
slipping past defenses,
caressing the Walker’s heart.

As he draws closer, a glow appears between the tall pines:
a campfire.

The Walker stops just beyond the firelight.
A white canvas tent stands nearby.
A bearded man sits on a log beside the fire, the flute in his hands.

The Walker remains motionless in the darkness, listening.
The bearded man plays—slow and smooth.
The sound is comforting, embracing, ancient.

The music fades.
The bearded man lowers his gaze toward the fire.

Beside it lies a young boy on the forest floor, just waking.
The boy looks around, confused, disoriented,
until his eyes settle on the bearded man.

His small voice carries through the clearing.
“Who are you?”

The bearded man answers with a gentle shake of his head.

“Have you been here the whole time?” the boy asks.

The bearded man nods.

The boy’s eyes wander across the surrounding darkness—
and then stop.
They fix on the place where the Walker stands.

The Walker startles.
It is far too dark for the boy to see him.
And yet… he has been sensed.

“Am I supposed to go into the darkness?” the boy asks.

The bearded man nods again.

“I’m afraid,” the boy says.
“Will you come with me?”

The bearded man finally speaks.
“Only you can go into that darkness.”

He turns back to the fire.

The boy rises, brushing dirt from his clothes.
Tears streak his face.
He is terrified.

He begins to walk—
straight toward the Walker.

Soft cries escape him as he steps beyond the firelight,
blindly entering the dark,
arms outstretched,

hands waving in desperate search.