“I don’t know, I guess I am just disappointed,” Isla said, putting away the last of the runes that Lilith gave them to decipher.

  “About?”

  “I thought the Devil would be hotter,” she laughed. They both laughed. “Who knew Satan was never ‘the Devil’.”

  Eli laughed.“I just wish I knew what we were being accused of.”

  “I do,” Lilith said, firmly. The two mages turned to her slowly.

  “What?” the both asked.

  “Is Satan like an eco-terrorist?” Isla asked, “is he mad about the environment?”

  Lilith, in response, sat at the table across from them and extended her hands out to both.

  “Would you like to see it?” She drawled.

  “See what?” Eli asked.

  “The Crime, of course.” Lilith responded.

  “What was it?” Isla asked.

  Lilith smiled. “The Original.” Two sets of brows furrowed.

  Emerald met turquoise.

  They grabbed hands with her and formed a triangle.

  The air around them vanished in onyx and ashen winds.

  She rose from the dust of the earth with its fruit in her hand. Her knobby fist clutched awkwardly but powerfully across the tough roots that held the tubers together. In her other hand, the stone. She had shaped many such stones since her youth, each time striking one against another until it took the form she needed: broad at one end, tapering to a point. A tooth of the earth that could pierce or cut where her own could not.

  Around her, the other females worked the scrubland in the same rhythm, bent and rising, their hands dark with soil.

  The first female watched a second female reach toward where another was pulling small white berries from a branch. The second female yanked the berries from the working one who cowered.

  The second female moved toward the largest male of their group, the one whose scars spoke of survived battles, whose broad chest and thick brow commanded the deference of every other male.

  He crouched beneath an acacia and watched the females gather and the other males practice in the distance. He fiddled with a large stick as he observed his troop.

  The second female knelt beside him. She took one of the berries and placed the stolen fruit into the male’s mouth. His gaze fixed upon her and only her.

  The first female's chest rose and her eyes widened.

  She dropped her tubers and crossed the distance between them in long, barely upright strides. When she reached the pair, she struck the second female across the shoulder with an open palm, then shoved her backward into the dirt. The second female scrambled up with a shriek, teeth bared.

  They circled one another. The first female's lips pulled back in a snarl. The second female lunged, and they collided in a tangle of limbs and fury, fists striking flesh, nails raking skin. Dust rose around them as they rolled across the ground.

  The scarred male watched. He made no move to stop them. When at last they broke apart, panting and bloodied. He grunted, satisfied.

  The Bright became the Dark many times.

  When the males returned from their hunt, both females approached the scarred one. The first female pressed close to his side, seeking the warmth of proximity, the assurance of his protection. The second female frantically grabbed his hand from the other flank. He grunted and pushed away from the first female without a glance, moving instead toward a whimpering, sat child.

  The lead male pushed the fragile shoulder of the adolescent

  The adolescent’s face was bruised and weary, his eyes sunken and hollow. His face taut against his skull. His thinness reminded the first female of the highest branches in the trees.

  The adolescent lifted his hand to reveal a small bloodied rock.

  The lead male’s eyes widened and his jaw opened slightly. He looked up from the adolescent to see an even thinner, smaller but limp body just beyond.

  The adolescent clutched at his boney stomach.

  The lead male descended upon the adolescent in a howl. The first female looked away.

  Her belly was hollow and burning too. It had been so for many Brights. Beside her legs, a small one clutched at her thigh, its ribs visible beneath thin skin, its eyes too large in its face.

  Eventually the second female jumped into the fray of the two males. She pushed off the lead male and stood between him and their offspring. She bared her teeth at him.

  The male huffed and shook his head and rejoined the other adult males. She turned to tend to her wounded child.

  The males dragged their kill to the center of their gathering place. A small horned-one, already half-eaten by the other hunters during their return. The lead male tore meat from the carcass and chewed, his eyes moving across the assembled group.

  Twelve faces. Fifteen. Twenty. The meat in his hands would not feed them all. It would not feed half of them. His jaw worked slowly as he looked from the kill to the hungry eyes that watched him.

  The Bright became Dark again and again. The Brights got shorter as the Darks got longer.

  The troop huddled together as the light fled from the world. They were not able to find a ground mouth today, so they would have to chance the tall shrubbery near the riverbed. Many clutched sticks or their stones. The adults formed a tight circle. Each crouched shoulder to shoulder. Their backs formed an interior of safety for the adolescents and wounded to sleep in.

  The heat of their bodies collected in the small space they protected. The adolescents shifted closer together, their shivering easing. One of the wounded exhaled slowly, drawing warmth into cracked ribs.

  But the cold was patient. It crept through gaps between shoulders, found the spaces where adult bodies failed to meet perfectly. Each gust of wind tested their circle, probing for weakness. The first female felt the chill roll across her back, felt the adolescent behind her press harder against her spine, seeking what little heat she could offer.

  Each adult had to remain perfectly still, perfectly pressed to their neighbors, or the cold would slip in and devour their warmth. Already she could feel the heat leeching from her skin where it met the air, could feel her own body beginning to burn itself from within to replace what the Dark stole.

  She looked to the horizon and saw in the dying Bright a shining one. It hung there glowing despite the impending Dark. Her eyes transfixed upon it.

  She gazed upon not just the others in her troop, or the darkness closing in around them, but upon a vastness beyond her own world.

  The cold descended deeper and deeper. Her body trembled more and more as did her neighbors’. Her stomach rumbled.

  As the dark and the cold continued to creep in she watched as more and more shining ones made themselves known above her. First just a few, scattered like white berries. Then more and more and more, until the blackness above held more lights than there were members of her troop. More than she had fingers and toes to count. More than all the stones she had ever shaped. More than the blades of grass in the scrubland.

  She had seen the shining ones, nearly every Dark of her life,but she had never really stopped to watch them before. There had always been the need to huddle, to watch for teeth in the darkness, to survive until Bright returned.

  Now she looked up and could not look away.

  The shining ones stretched across the Dark in a great river of light flowing from one edge of the world to the other. Some burned brighter than others. Some flickered. Some stood perfectly still while the world turned beneath them.

  The shining ones were out in full tonight.

  She felt very small.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The Dark suddenly cracked open. A blue-white serpent descended from above and crashed into the shrubbery not far from the troop.

  There was a blast and a roar that blew apart their circle. Shrieks and cries mingled as the bushes erupted in heat and light.

  The first female had tumbled and landed on her stomach. She looked up to see all of her troop cowering in the dark.

  All except for the second female who stood in the light.

  The first female rose and joined the second. Together they stared at the flickering impossibilities.

  The Dark had given way to warmth that came not from the Bright but flowered beneath an acacia and in the bushes and grass. Scents flooded the first female's nose. She had smelled this before but never to this extent.

  The glowing flowers danced and spread. As they did they banished the cold and the dark.

  The two females watched and felt their eyes dry in the heat as the flowers consumed the foliage around them. They felt their bodies relax in the warmth.

  The first female closed her eyes.

  A thumping roar and both females were yanked away from the light and back into the cold and the dark. The scarred, lead male stood before them now, having interposed himself between them and the glowing flowers. He pushed them back to the rest of the troop.

  They obeyed.

  The scarred male stood between his troop and the glowing flowers, his chest heaving. He looked back at the huddled group, then again at the spreading light. The flowers had claimed half the acacia now, climbing its trunk in writhing tongues of yellow and orange. The heat licked against his face even at this distance.

  He approached the tree awkwardly and cautiously. He shielded his eyes from the light with one arm.

  Behind him, the troop pressed together again, trying to reform their circle. But the cold had already found them. It wrapped around their exposed backs and crept between their limbs. The adolescent who had killed earlier shook violently, his thin frame offering no resistance to the Dark's hunger.

  He reached up to pluck the warm flower with his free hand. As he extended his fingers, their tips almost reached one of the glowing petals.

  It bit him.

  He howled in pain. He was met with a chorus of minor shrieks in response.

  The first female felt the small one against her leg trembling. Its fingers clutched at her thigh with weakening grip. She looked down. In the flickering light cast by the flowers, she could see the child's lips had darkened. Its breathing came in shallow gasps.

  She had seen this before. The cold took the smallest ones first. It would work its way through the child's body until the shaking stopped and the breathing stopped and the small fingers released their grip forever.

  The scarred male returned to the reformed circle staring at his marked hand.

  The offspring pressed against her side, its face buried in her ribs. It too had begun to turn the color of deep water.

  The first female's gaze moved from the child at her leg to the glowing flowers. She could remember the feel of it on her face, on her arms. Where the heat touched her skin, her body had stopped its burning from within.

  The small one's grip loosened.

  She looked at the scarred male. He stood rigid, watching the flowers consume more of the acacia. The tree groaned and pieces of glowing wood tumbled to the ground, each piece birthing new flowers where it landed in rising clouds.

  The first female turned and lifted the small one from the ground. Its head lolled against her shoulder, its breathing barely there. The cold had already claimed most of its warmth.

  She took a step toward the flowers.

  The scarred male's head snapped toward her. He bared his teeth and grabbed her arm. His fingers dug into her flesh. He pulled her back toward the dark and the cold and the huddle where the rest of the troop watched with wide eyes.

  She looked at the hand that now bore the mark where the flower had bitten him. Then she looked at the small one in her arms whose chest barely rose.

  She yanked her arm free.

  The scarred male recoiled in pain. His jaw worked. His eyes moved from her to the small one to the flowers and back. The other members of the troop had gone quiet.

  The first female turned and walked toward the light.

  No one followed.

  The heat grew with each step. It pushed against her face and arms and chest. The small one stirred slightly in her grip, a weak breath escaping its darkened lips. She could smell something new among the flowers now, sharp and unfamiliar, nothing like the scent of grass or earth or flesh.

  When she reached the edge of where the flowers danced across the ground, she stopped. The warmth here was almost too much. It dried the moisture from her eyes and made her skin tight. But it was warmth. Real warmth. Like the Bright. Not the borrowed heat of huddled bodies but something that pushed back against the Dark and the cold.

  She knelt and laid the small one on a patch of ground near one of the burning bushes. Not too close to the flowers themselves, but close enough that the heat would reach it.

  The child's eyes fluttered. Its chest rose more deeply. The dark color began to fade from its lips.

  The first female crouched beside it and watched. The dark clouds rose from the burning bushes and drifted across the ground. It found her nose and throat. She coughed. Her eyes watered. The clouds thickened as more of the bushes caught and more flowers bloomed.

  The small one coughed too. Its small chest heaved. The air hurt.

  The first female reached for the child to pull it back, but the clouds had grown too thick. She could not see clearly. She could not breathe clearly. Her eyes streamed and her throat closed. She grabbed the small one and carried it back to the troop but it was too late.

  The small one's chest already stopped moving.

  When she returned to the circle she placed the small one's body in the center where the adolescents and wounded had been sleeping. Many of the troop turned away. Some stared at the child, then at her. The first female's chest heaved. Her throat still burned from the clouds.

  The cold pressed harder. The wind cut through their reformed circle. Bodies trembled against one another but the warmth would not return. The adolescent who had killed earlier lay curled on his side, his breathing shallow and slow.

  The second female stared out past the shoulders of the adults, past the darkness, to where the flowers still climbed the acacia. Most of the bushes had been consumed. The flowers had eaten themselves into darkness. But the tree still held light in its branches, smaller now, fading, but there.

  Beside her, another small one went limp against its mother's side.

  She rose.

  The troop shifted, watching. She stepped over the huddle and walked toward the acacia. The scarred male stood but did not follow.

  The heat had lessened. The flowers had shrunk into small bright patches on the tree's trunk.

  The second female eyes danced in the reflected light. She looked at the ground around it. She found a long stick that had not yet been touched by flowers. She held it at one end and pushed the other end toward the dancing light.

  The flowers reached for the stick. They climbed onto it, spreading along its length but slowly. She waited until they had claimed half of it, then lifted the stick away from the tree.

  The flowers clung to the stick. They moved and danced but they did not fall away. The stick grew warm in her hand but the end she held had no flowers. The heat reached her but did not bite.

  She turned and walked back toward the troop.

  The stick in her hand threw light across the ground before her feet. Her shadow stretched behind her, long and dark, pushed away by the flowers she carried.

  The scarred male watched her approach. His body had gone still. The other adults had turned their heads. Every eye tracked her.

  She moved through the Dark and brought with her a Bright of her own. The flowers danced on the stick and the shadows danced with them. The heat climbed up her arm but the end she held stayed cool in her grip.

  The cold tried to take her but it recoiled in terror from the light.

  When she reached the edge of the circle the scarred male did not bare his teeth. He did not block her path. His eyes fixed on the small Bright in her hand and his mouth hung slightly open.

  The light-bearer walked past him and to the center of the circle where the small one's body lay among the living young and wounded. She pushed the end of the stick she held into the ground beside it. It stood upright. The flowers continued their slow eating at the top.

  The troop turned inward. Shoulders that had faced outward, that had pressed together to form their wall against the dark, now angled toward their center. Toward the light.

  The first female felt the warmth touch her face again. The trembling in her limbs eased. Around her, the others shifted closer to the blooming flowers. The second female stretched her hands toward it. An adolescent female uncurled from a tight ball and sat up.

  The clouds rose from the burning stick but thinner than before, easier to breathe through. The scarred male’s gaze scanned the troop. Some of their eyes had closed, others stared into the light.

  Then he saw them at the edges.

  Eyes in the dark beyond their light. Low to the ground. Reflecting the glow of the flowers like the shining ones above. One pair. A few pairs. Many.

  The teeth that hunted in the Dark.

  They moved at the edge of the light, circling. The first female heard the soft pad of paws on earth, the low rumble of breath. The eyes came closer, testing. One of the adults made a sound of fear. The scarred male grabbed his stone and stood.

  But the eyes came no closer. They circled and watched and rumbled, but they did not cross into the light. The glow held them back as surely as if an invisible wall of stone stood between the troop and the teeth.

  The circle held.

  One by one, the adults fully turned their backs on the darkness. They sat with the light on their faces and the warmth soaking into their skin.

  The beasts in the dark eventually moved on but when the first female looked around the circle she saw every eye was wide and enraged. They looked between her and the stilled small one in front of her.

  The ashen winds faded away. The three of them sat together still holding hands in the triangle. Isla’s eyes were bleeding just like Eli’s but from Lilith’s eyes trails of onyx mists trailed up into the air.

  Eli was very pale.

  “That was…” Isla trailed off. “I don’t even know what to say.”

  “What crime?” Eli pleaded. “What was the sin?”

  “I just showed you, boy” Lilith said entirely in iron.

  “I don’t understand,” Eli said, dropping his head in his hands.

  “Then you have not been paying enough attention.” Lilith said “Honestly, boy. What were you expecting?”

  “I have no fucking idea.”