A New Night

My New World

Taking a brief break from digging through the ceiling above me, I looked through the hole I had made. I saw the sky—albeit periodically obscured by the faces of the Night People working on the other end of the tunnel. By the pinkish hues beyond, I guessed that it was evening (unless I was on some kind of cotton-candy, alien world with perpetually pink skies). There was a smell of salt water in the air above, and I could hear the splash of waves over the soft scratching sounds of claws digging through sand.

“Are you sure this is … alright?” I called out. “I feel kind of bad for digging out your cave.”

“Of course, Sleeping God,” said Krogallo, sticking his head through the hole to look at me. He ignored the jostling movement of the other bats still digging around him. “We cannot leave you prisoner here, after all.”

I nodded and got back to work. I had to stand on my toes and awkwardly dug one-handed over the top of the pod. While my body did not seem specifically designed for digging, it turned out that having metal arms made it an easy task. Using my robot fingers of death, I tore through vines and dirt like it was nothing. Soon, I was able to climb on top of the pod, gradually digging higher.

I tried not to make the hole too large as I finished my tunneling, keeping it just big enough to get my body through. While I imagined that I had to be pretty heavy (based on the obnoxious noise from my earlier falls), climbing also turned out to be unexpectedly easy. It seemed that my arms were plenty strong, compensating for my weight. Finally, I scrambled up into the light of the orange, setting sun—reflected by the sea.

As soon as I first saw it, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the infinite horizon of water. I was vaguely aware of the Night People hopping around me excitedly. At least, until Krogallo whispered something, and they backed away a few steps. The scenery entrancing me was not alien; there were sparkling blue waters, waves, an evening sky cast in pastels, and cumulonimbus clouds towering overhead.

I stood on an upraised hill covered in grasses, shrubs, and a few trees. Around me, the air seemed to flash, sparkling as light reflected off the scattering wings of insects zipping about. The greenery rolled downward gently until it met a brown sand beach covered in dunes and sparse tangles of yellow plant life.

On the edge of the beach were a few tubby animals that looked like tuskless walruses. The difference was that these creatures were rounder, smoother-skinned, cuter, and slightly smaller than the ones in my imagination. Most of them napped lazily. As one particular animal moseyed into the water, I watched it swim through low waves toward a tiny distant island. I wondered if there were more walrus-creatures on those islands as well.

After looking at all I could see on the beaches, I turned around to see what was behind me. I was in no way prepared for what I would see next. The hill of grass I stood on, sparsely filled with short trees and shrubs, ended abruptly with something … enormous … and intensely green. It consumed my vision entirely—like a mountain that stood straight up from the ground. Vines and moss covered it—even small trees grew out from the fully vertical structure.

For a moment, I had no idea what I was looking at. This—thing—reached far into the sky. Then, toward the top, the green plants diminished to reveal a bleached gray color underneath. It was so … high. I couldn’t explain how just the height alone filled me with unease. It made me feel sick … dizzy.

Oddly, I felt it should have taken me longer to identify what I was looking at. But then—I remembered. I knew this towering structure … from my nightmares.

In my dreams, it had been new—it had blocked out the sun’s light. This mountain cliff was … a wall. No, it was the Wall.

The Wall reached what had to be a few thousand feet above the beach—so that it touched the clouds. Despite all the cracks and life growing from it, the ancient wall looked imposingly sturdy. I could not help but imagine being at the top of it … looking down. It made me feel like my every nerve was tingling and on edge.

So I tore my gaze away from the highest point, a little shaky. It seemed that I wasn’t on an island after all. But since I didn’t know what to call a piece of land surrounded by mostly sea and a gargantuan Wall, I decided to forgive my poor use of terminology. Besides, my mind was racing with far more important questions—about the Wall itself, the bats I had woken to, and myself.

The Night People—who presumably had questions of their own—were watching me with awe. They had kept their distance of about a dozen feet or so. However, most of them stood as tall as they could on their hind legs, like they were trying to get as close a look at me as possible. A few dozen unfamiliar Night People were there now, so there were about a hundred present. The ones I knew hopped to the new arrivals and began whispering to them. I guessed the Night People who’d been present were catching up the others on the situation. At least, I hoped so … to avoid repeating the panicked events in the cave.

Krogallo hopped in front of the others and said, “Sleeping God, I was hoping we might have a word in private.”

I looked at the other Night People, and then around the island. He didn’t exactly have a private office. (Or perhaps a confessional would have been more appropriate for the situation, since he was a priest.) Also, I wasn’t exactly sure how to answer without being rude. I hoped he didn’t expect me to shoo the other Night People away.

So, I kind of just said, “Uh.”

Fortunately, Krogallo just continued speaking, unphased. He beckoned Romalla—the younger priest with green fur. When she was closer than all the rest, he said, “Please inform the others that I need to convene with the Sleeping God about the matter of the … Golems.” The way he said that last word was almost like a whisper.

Romalla bared her fanged teeth at the word.

Krogallo continued, “Ask those present to aid us in informing the rest of our people, so nobody is startled by the presence of the Sleeping God.”

Romalla gave a curt nod and then returned to the others. When she first began to speak, most of the bats turned their faces and looked down at the ground. A couple looked at me hopefully. They all continued to talk in hushed tones, gradually hopping further away.

“Golems?” I knew that word … it was in the back of my head, along with the growing number of things I knew without knowing how. They were story-book creatures—monsters made of stone.

Krogallo drew a deep breath and said, “Sleeping God, I know you must be confused as you are—waking in a body of stone with a face of pure light. Down from the Heavens with your memory gone.”

Understatement … but right idea. I was also unsure what he meant about a ‘face of pure light.’ However, I nodded—still hyper-focused on the ‘Golems.’

Krogallo continued, “Though I do not pretend to know the minds of the gods, I feel like my insight as to your purpose here is merited. You have always been the steady guardian of this island. You placed your stone form in the caves to watch over your people. To see us as we slept, like the gods above watch us as we fly. The Golems … you must have come here to save us from them.”

“But what are the Golems?” I asked, noting that the way he spoke about them was putting me a little on edge.

Krogallo lowered his voice. “The Golems live in the far depths of the sea. They are evil spirits that the gods cast down from the Spirit Realm—the land beyond the Walls. They are cursed—their enormous bodies afflicted with orange-crusted stone. At all times, they emit a loud noise and a foul stench … never allowed a moment’s peace; they are distinguished only by the colors of their faces and the scars they wear.

As Krogallo told me of the Golems, my imagination took over. I imagined giant stone monsters that were twenty feet tall—smelling of brimstone and emitting a crackling sound like embers. Then, I looked down at one of my hands, and a thought occurred to me. I wondered if the Night People would even have a concept of metal—at least in how it differed from stone. What if the Golems were … like me?

Except … they couldn’t be just like me because I would then be considered—at best—a ‘good’ Golem. My body was also relatively silent when I wasn’t talking. And no Night Person had yet complained about a stench.

“We see them at least once a year. Some ignore this island, while others …” Krogallo paused and grit his teeth, seeming lost for a moment. He then looked up at me, shook his head, and continued, “The others hunt and capture the Night People. They hate us because we worship the gods who cast them out.”

“But they’re my size … made of ‘stone’ like me?” I asked, not sure what kind of answer I wanted to hear.

Krogallo gave a heavy shake of his head. “They are so much larger than this form you inhabit. When you woke, I was surprised that your sisters—they who empower the Moon and Sun—did not also incarnate themselves here to fight alongside you. Perhaps they must stay in the Spirit Realm to keep the world alive by their light. Since you chose to come alone, it can only be because you knew you would have the strength to overcome the Golems alone. Thus, I too have faith in you.”

Though some of me felt the kindness in Krogallo’s words, his confidence was lost on me as I struggled between overwhelming fear … and denial. I didn’t want to believe what I was being told about monsters even bigger than me that could arrive at any moment. I wanted to think that somewhat large and smelly armadillos were terrorizing the island. Or maybe I wasn’t here at all, and this was just another pod nightmare. However … Krogallo had no reason to lie about the size of the creatures tormenting his people. And though much of this seemed surreal, I was experienced enough with pod dreams to know this wasn’t one.

Krogallo seemed to see right through me, as if he sensed my doubt. He said, “It may seem daunting, but trust in yourself—Sleeping God. The divine wisdom you sacrificed to save our people must have guided you here for such a purpose.”

Still, I didn’t know how to handle all this new information. I wanted to ask more about the Golems.

However, I noticed that Krogallo was no longer looking at me. Instead, he had turned, hopped a few feet away, and was whispering something to several more Night People who had gathered nearby. By the way they stared at me with wide eyes and how they whispered to one another, I wondered if these were ones that Romalla had not warned in time.

Krogallo cleared his throat and said, “I apologize, Sleeping God, but I must go and explain to my people why our god—who has always slept—is now walking around our island. If you would excuse me for a while.”

Not knowing how else to respond, I nodded awkwardly. Some remaining bats remained and stared but dared not venture close to me. I didn’t want to make the bats feel like I was purposefully trying to avoid them, nor did I want to get locked in a staring match, so I looked for something specific to occupy myself with. However, almost everything on this part of the island looked the same—a few small trees, some boulders, and short plants. Oh, and a gargantuan Wall that seemed to cut the world in half.

I did spot a small pond, not much more than a puddle. It seemed to be one of several small pools fed by a small stream. Reeds stood out of the edges of the water. I began to make my way toward the pool. Insects sprang up and flew away as I passed.

When I reached my destination, I looked down at the water and nearly jumped when I saw an odd ball of metal and black glass, with some lines of fluorescent, blue light beneath the surface. It took me a moment to realize that I was looking at my own reflection … my head.

Part of me had hoped that I would see my reflection and find out that I was a person in some sort of space suit. But this … this wasn’t a helmet. It was what Krogallo had meant by ‘a face of light.’

The spherical, metal head was shaped almost like a pilot’s helmet—with a vertical, oval-shaped faceplate. Other than the glass face, my head was comprised of heavy metal plates, divided from one another by deep but narrow grooves. At a side glance, it might have been confused for a giant helmet—were it not for the neck. While thick and sturdy for a machine, the metal tube holding my head was too long and narrow to fit a human neck.

Dejected, I stared at the alien face looking back at me.

The vertical, oval-shaped faceplate was made of deep, black glass. On this glass, lines of neon blue light represented my eyebrows, eyes, and mouth. No nose, freckles, or wrinkles were displayed—only the bare necessities to create a glowing blue caricature on the black glass. My face was … animated … so my expressions were more like cutesy emoticons.

Large, triangular black ears adorned the sides of my head … in a bat-like fashion (which I found unamusingly ironic, given the circumstances of my waking). From the black color and the odd texture, I guessed that these ‘ears’ were solar panels. Now that I was looking, I noticed a similar color and texture on my shoulders. So I was energy efficient—fabulous!

Bitterly, I muttered, “I sure hope I get karma points for being green.”

As feelings of despair filled me, my reflection in the pool of water frowned. Its virtual mouth curved pitifully downward, and its virtual eyebrows tilted to show sadness. Had the rendered facial expression not been my own, it might have even been cute. As it was, the animated expression looked like a patronizing parody of my true feelings of dysphoria … that this wasn’t me.

I stepped on my reflection, so I didn’t have to look at it any longer. Then I sat silently, sulking as the sun slowly fell out of sight.

I found myself staring at nothing in particular, captive to my thoughts. What was this body I was trapped in? Why didn’t it feel like me? Where was I—earth, another planet? I think this not knowing would have been okay for someone with a greater sense of calm and collectedness.

For me, however, a frantic sense of urgency was building in where my gut should have been. I thought … maybe I was having a panic attack? Did I have those regularly? The only thing I knew about panic attacks was a vague mental image of someone hyperventilating into a paper bag. However, that didn’t seem helpful … or accurate. It felt like a claw was reaching up from my stomach to squeeze my chest—tighter and tighter. I couldn’t move.

I stood there staring for minutes. These minutes might have even become hours; I wasn’t sure. All I could do was stand there and hope the panic would gradually simmer into numbness. This eventually happened … though the “relief” that came felt more like emotional exhaustion rather than the diminishment of my concerns.

I realized that being alone was playing on my mind—that I wanted to talk to someone, even if just as a distraction from my feelings. Unfortunately, it seemed like it would take a while for Krogallo and Romalla to explain things to the remaining Night People. I guessed it made sense … if they didn’t want to start screaming the news like town criers. ‘Oyez, oyez, oyez! Read it now! Cowardly robot awakened. Soon to have his shiny, metallic rear end handed to him by the Golems! Don’t miss the fight!’

The rest of the Night People seemed rather shy—occasionally flying close to me, giving a short, awkward nod that I assumed they had been taught, and then quickly flying away before I could engage them in conversation. I occasionally spotted Krogallo and Romalla, along with the others helping spread the message about me, gathering on the beach and short trees further inland.

To keep myself from dwelling on my worries, I watched the Night People and tried to learn anything I could about the island. While watching them, I noticed something camouflaged in the rising greenery.

No higher than a hundred feet up from the base of the Wall were scattered a few dozen little green and brown sack-looking things. These swayed a bit, each apparently attached to the Wall at only a single point. The only reason I saw the nest-like structures was because of Night People, who had begun to fly in and out of them.

By the colors and textures, I guessed that the nests or huts might be made of dried plants and perhaps hide. However, it was difficult to tell because they were also covered in the same types of plants that climbed the Wall. I noticed multiple Night People exit some of the enclosures … meaning the structures were probably a bit larger than they seemed from the ground.

I then looked to the right and left, to the parts of the Wall where no nests had been constructed. The Wall seemed to extend infinitely in both directions, with no end plainly visible. There was, however, an end to the land mass upon which I stood. The elevated terrain and the beach extended about a hundred yards in both directions before reaching the ocean.

I peered at the expanse—the Wall seeming to stand straight out of the sea for miles until it reached another distant shore. On the portions of the Wall that touched the water, there was far less green—only some elevated groves of small trees and shrubs.

Waves bobbed, gently rising and falling where they touched the Wall. The swelling of the tide against it created a soft background noise, along with the sea winds. Massive outcrops of barnacles and other shells were stacked in layers wherever the water touched—so much so that the lower portion of the wall looked sturdier than the top. These barnacles seemed to go on for miles.

Looking at the Wall, I gradually noticed that the titanic structure did not seem straight. Instead of stretching endlessly or to a definite end, there was a limit to how far I could see along it. The Wall appeared to curve inward as if it were encircling something. Or maybe I just thought it did because it circled the city from my nightmares.

As the horizon darkened, more Night People flew through the skies—not too high above me. Some dove at the shallow waves that crashed on the shore, almost like seagulls. Others chirped and shrieked while zigzagging in the air. If the Night People were anything like the bats I knew of, they were likely hunting for insects using echolocation.

I noted that the Night People flew much like the bats I had known. That meant flapping and rushing in silent shows of speed and agility. Their display of aerial acrobatics was impressive, especially given how much bigger they were than most bats I knew of.

I turned to again face the ocean. While the nearest island was much further out, there was a tiny shore only a few miles away. It was a stretch of land—a peninsula—that extended out from the Wall by a narrow runway of sand and rocks. Unlike the landmass I stood on—a hilly island flush against the Wall—the peninsula stretched further into the sea, swelling to a small hill with scattered greenery and trees. I couldn’t tell how far away it was exactly, but it had to be at least a mile or two. Among the trees, there were about a dozen small, brown triangles.

Even in this somewhat alien world, the shapes and positions of the triangles didn’t seem like natural features. They looked … built … like tents, maybe. There were only a few of the structures—all that would comfortably fit on the small amount of land.

Then … I noticed movement.