The coming of winter made it seem
as though he’d risen earlier, as though he had more time- and while technically
he had, the amount was smaller than one would guess by the budding sunrise.
Part of the sky remained wreathed in darkness, with a chill in the air to
match. Still, a brilliant orange cradled a yellow just at the horizon, and red
bridged the space between those bright colors and the blue-violet that still
held dominion over the morning.
He stood on the landing, free to do so after months of hiding, waiting for his mistress to leave. Now, however, he could enjoy the cool morning, watching as the cars passed along the road below. Sam was not a morning person, but he was grateful for mornings from time to time. Even with everything that had come to pass, he found a certain peace. Perhaps it would fade in the coming moments. Perhaps it would last the day.
The Reds began their work; late, actually, given that he had seen the sun before the stirring of their power. Still, now he could feel the warmth of their budding energy, the life that tumbled from the highest reaches of the city. Few passerby traveled at this hour, but among them, Sam thought he noticed a quickening of their steps, a hardening of their fists- resolve, determination to tackle the day. And finally, Sam could respect that.
It was easier if he didn’t fight it. Like the Revival, it filled him, washed over him, just as the music of Animate, just as the dim and grim atmosphere of the warehouse. When he rose up against it, it became bitter, jagged, a field of bramble for him to traverse naked. Doable of course, but painfully so. Now, however, Sam had discovered that acceptance did not mean surrender, nor abandonment of one’s own vision. He could acknowledge the truth behind the Reds’ power and purpose, and he could partake of it without sacrifice, bearing respect instead. Simple. So simple.
Sam descended the stairs to move out from under the eaves. Upon the sidewalk, if he strained, he could see them; marked by the bright scarlet they wore, the Reds had scattered about the rooftops to bring morning to the world. He found himself feeling envious. His kind did their work in the dark of night, forever bathed in the shadows in the time between days, always far removed from the senses of mundanes. The Reds however worked their will over the world in daylight, welcoming the morning with their exertions, empowering all within plain sight; or close to it, were it not for the enchantments that hid Librarians from their charges.
He stood on the landing, free to do so after months of hiding, waiting for his mistress to leave. Now, however, he could enjoy the cool morning, watching as the cars passed along the road below. Sam was not a morning person, but he was grateful for mornings from time to time. Even with everything that had come to pass, he found a certain peace. Perhaps it would fade in the coming moments. Perhaps it would last the day.
The Reds began their work; late, actually, given that he had seen the sun before the stirring of their power. Still, now he could feel the warmth of their budding energy, the life that tumbled from the highest reaches of the city. Few passerby traveled at this hour, but among them, Sam thought he noticed a quickening of their steps, a hardening of their fists- resolve, determination to tackle the day. And finally, Sam could respect that.
It was easier if he didn’t fight it. Like the Revival, it filled him, washed over him, just as the music of Animate, just as the dim and grim atmosphere of the warehouse. When he rose up against it, it became bitter, jagged, a field of bramble for him to traverse naked. Doable of course, but painfully so. Now, however, Sam had discovered that acceptance did not mean surrender, nor abandonment of one’s own vision. He could acknowledge the truth behind the Reds’ power and purpose, and he could partake of it without sacrifice, bearing respect instead. Simple. So simple.
Sam descended the stairs to move out from under the eaves. Upon the sidewalk, if he strained, he could see them; marked by the bright scarlet they wore, the Reds had scattered about the rooftops to bring morning to the world. He found himself feeling envious. His kind did their work in the dark of night, forever bathed in the shadows in the time between days, always far removed from the senses of mundanes. The Reds however worked their will over the world in daylight, welcoming the morning with their exertions, empowering all within plain sight; or close to it, were it not for the enchantments that hid Librarians from their charges.
***
“I saw you watching,” Rudy told him.
He jabbed a finger into Sam’s chest. Weeks ago, it might have bothered him- not
just his comrade’s assault, but bearing unwilling witness the entire ceremony
of the Reds. Now however, he understood. He offered a small smile.
“Yeah, I was.”
“You could mind your own business.”
“You know that’s not entirely true, Rudy. You can’t keep it from me anyway.”
Rudy scowled.
“Don’t look so down.” He jabbed the Red’s shoulder. It was supposed to be friendly, but Rudy’s expression only darkened. Another miscalculation. But it didn’t matter. Another lesson he had learned- some things would sort themselves. “You Reds know more than anyone that it’s a new day. Don’t waste it.” He set off down the street, hands in his pockets, determined to follow his own advice. As he made his distance, the growling stones taking rent in his head fell to near silence, slowing, almost as if pondering his words. It was all he could hope for.
“Yeah, I was.”
“You could mind your own business.”
“You know that’s not entirely true, Rudy. You can’t keep it from me anyway.”
Rudy scowled.
“Don’t look so down.” He jabbed the Red’s shoulder. It was supposed to be friendly, but Rudy’s expression only darkened. Another miscalculation. But it didn’t matter. Another lesson he had learned- some things would sort themselves. “You Reds know more than anyone that it’s a new day. Don’t waste it.” He set off down the street, hands in his pockets, determined to follow his own advice. As he made his distance, the growling stones taking rent in his head fell to near silence, slowing, almost as if pondering his words. It was all he could hope for.
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