The Torch-Bearer

“May I lend you a light?”

The voice startled me, but not nearly as much as the sudden explosion of light. It really wasn't bright—just a single torch with a globe of burning light that sent a slight column of black smoke up into the dark cave ceiling. It wasn't bright, but I was so used to the darkness that I could take in nothing but the light for several moments.

My first impulse was to clasp tighter to my sword. The territory was wild, and while nothing with a voice should have been a danger, I had seen too much to have overmuch faith even in my fellow humans. But my fingers relaxed slightly as my eyes adjusted and I was able to make out the figure who held the torch. It was a lone man, perhaps a year or two my elder. His hair and clothes were ragged and dirty, and his eyes had that strained, haunted look that came to all those who spent their days in the dark caverns outside the settlements. Besides his torch, the only thing to note was that he carried a large pack tied to his back.

“Uh, thanks,” I said carefully, as I sized up the stranger. He didn't look dangerous. I couldn't even see that he had a weapon.

“Are you heading to Esteban?”

“Yes.” I took a step forward. “Do you know the way?”

He shook his head. “I know that it's this general direction, but I don't know exactly where.”

I was still sizing him up. “So you are heading there as well?” He nodded. “But you don't have a map?” I wasn't hopeful; maps were rare.

“No. I've just been following the caves and picking up leads where I can.”

By this point, I had moved to stand beside him, so that the light of his torch was flowing down over me like water. I smiled grimly; I hadn't been in this much light since I left the last settlement; I'd forgotten how dirty and rough my clothing looked.

From the slight smile on his face, I guessed he was thinking the same thing. But all he said was: “Since we are heading to the same place, would you like to travel together?”

“Why?” I asked sharply. And then, remembering how genuinely friendly the man had been, I tried to soften my question. “Is there anything we would gain from traveling together?”

“You mean is there anything you would gain?” he corrected, smiling more.

“Well—yes. You can't give me direction. You don't seem to have a weapon and so wouldn't be much help in a fight. What can you do to help me?”

He shrugged, still smiling, and held his torch higher. “I can share my light.”

I almost laughed at the absurdity of such an offer. I had been traveling in wild caverns my entire life; darkness was familiar to me. Still, a trustworthy companion was something rare and I couldn't see that his presence would bring any additional risks.

“I guess it wouldn't hurt.”

And so it was that we began to travel together. He was still a puzzle to me. It was soon clear that he was a veteran and had spent his whole life traveling the caverns, much like me. He knew how to survive in these wild places just as well, if not better, than I did.

And yet, his priorities were so strange. When I first met him, I noted the pack he carried. I assumed it contained supplies of some kind, though I wasn't sure what they were—since, when we stopped to eat, I saw that he carried his food in a small sack hanging from his belt.

But after we had been traveling for a while, his torch, which he always carried in his left hand, began to flicker and grow dimmer. Without stopping or slowing down, his right hand reached back into his pack and pulled out a piece of paper, rolled into a tight cylinder, which he pushed into the head of the torch; an instant later, the flame leaped up, bright as before. During the moment that he had opened his pack, I saw what seemed to be thousands more of the rolls of paper.

“Is that all you carry?” I asked.

He shrugged without concern at my apparent surprise. “A torch requires fuel. And I don't know where I would find any paper on my travels—it's not a common resource.”

“So you've been carrying that sack for your entire journey? Lugging all that around—just to burn it?”

“How else would you keep a torch alight here?”

I didn't answer, since I'd never had any ambition to try such a thing.

And the next moment all thoughts of the oddities of my companion were swallowed up by a single sound. We had been traveling through a tunnel that was even narrower and more winding than most and just at this moment we reached a bend that was nearly a ninety-degree angle. And as we reached it, I heard a loud clicking sound.

My hand had instinctively drawn my sword, even before my brain could recognize and analyze the sound. And while the rasp of the sheath still vibrated in the air, we were under attack, as the monster lumbered around the corner and struck out at me.

It was the size of man, but with a thick, armored exoskeleton and a spherical head that seemed to be all eyes. Its legs were squat and muscular, but its arms were long and slender like the blades of a sword. I had faced creatures like this before (though never quite this big) but this was my first time to get a clear look at it, for the whole thing was revealed in sharp relief in the dancing flames of the torch.

But I had no time to stand and make observations. As the monster appeared, it slashed at me with its blade-like arm. Without a thought, I parried and tried to push it back. It lashed out with its other arm, leaving a deep cut in my arm. Trying to ignore the pain, I stepped back and slashed again, but without seeming to have any effect.

“Are you going to help?” I shouted out, without taking my eyes off my enemy.

“I have no sword,” my friend reminded me in a quiet voice. But I could tell, without even looking, that he was holding his torch higher.

I narrowed my eyes, watching the movements of the creature, and then swung again. This time, I knew I had scored a hit.

How long the fight lasted, I am not sure. When it was over, my hand was shaking and my shirt was wet with blood from several cuts. But the monster was dead.

“Well, we are safe,” I said, trying to sound calmer and more collected than I really was. “So tell me,” I asked, turning to face him, “what you have done if you had met that creature alone?”

“I would have run away,” he answered simply. “What would you have done?”

I stopped short even as I began to form an answer. I had never tried to battle a monster of that size before; certainly not when running was also an option. Courage was a luxury in that wild country. What had been different this time?

Strange as it seemed, I could not deny the fact after I thought about it. Facing such a creature in the light was easier than it was in the dark. Seeing it in every horrid detail—though it had made it much more terrible—yet, in some way, had made it less difficult to face. “Well, at any rate, we should be safe now.”

He shook his head. “We had better camp here. You are in no shape to travel further today.”

I offered no argument to this.

So we made our camp there in a wide place in the tunnel just beyond the point of my battle. I dressed my wounds as best as I could and we both gnawed down some cold rations. And then for a long time, we just sat in the darkness, watching the dancing shadows cast by my friend's torch. Until finally, I asked him: “How long have you been carrying that torch?”

“Ever since I left my home in Eisenach.”

I looked at him with surprise and respect. Eisenach was one of the oldest and deepest of the settlements. It must have been a long and weary journey to make it here; he could hardly have been more than a boy when he first began.

“So... why? Why bother? It cannot be easy to keep it burning; to carry all that fuel. Why make such effort for something that does not help you?”

In the light of his torch, I could see the strange, thoughtful look on his face. He leaned forward and returned the question: “Why are you traveling to EstEban?”

“Surely you know. I think everyone has heard the rumors now. There has been excavation there—they have made machines that have dug higher than ever before. There is a chance—just a chance—that they will finally find a way back to the surface.” I could feel my heart beat faster at the very thought. “After all these years, there might still be hope of escaping these caverns. And if it happens, it will be at Esteban. Isn't that why you're heading there?”

He nodded and stared deeper into the burning heart of his torch. “As I told you, I come from Eisenach. There we still have documents written shortly after the cataclysm—written by men who still remembered the world on the surface. They say--” he continued, his voice becoming thoughtful, almost dreamy, “that above the surface there was a single giant torch which burned so brightly that the entire world was light and there was no darkness anywhere. And then when it went out, there would be millions of tiny torches blazing so that even the darkness was not truly dark.”

I shook my head. I had rumors of these things before, but I couldn't even imagine what that would be like.

He seemed to sense my thoughts, for he raised his torch so that it was high above his head. “I can only imagine that maybe it looked something like this.” He turned to look at me. “And that is why I carry it. Our world is a dark and rough one. We all face danger and toil—and there is little I can do to help anyone. I never had the skill to be a warrior or a guide or an excavator. All I knew to do is what I have done—carried my light to remind us all of what it is we work and live for. And if that does even a little to give strength and courage in the darkness, then I have done more than I would have done if I had left my light behind.”

I said nothing. But perhaps I began to understand.

We were both too tired (and I was still too weak from my battle) to travel further then. And so we both unrolled our ragged mats on the rough ground of the tunnel and slept.

I don't know how long I had slept, but I came awake suddenly—the ground beneath me was shaking and there was a roaring in my ears. This kind of tremor wasn't uncommon this high up in the caverns, and they seemed to grow worse the closer I got to Esteban; perhaps the excavation was upsetting the balance.

There was a flashing of light, as the torch (which he had lodged in a pocket of rock while he slept) rocked back and forth in the force of the quake. And in this flickering glare of light, I could see that the earth of the tunnel was beginning to come apart. And with a brief pang of fear, I saw that my friend was in the middle of the rift.

He was still tangled up in his bedroll; he tried to roll out of the growing chasm, but it was too late. I reached my hand to catch him, but he was already gone—swallowed up by the earth.

And then, as suddenly as it began, the quake was over. I found myself breathing heavily. I knew there was no chance of finding him again. The chasm had been too great. He was probably gone forever; it was possible that he survived and had fallen to a lower tunnel, but even so, I would likely never see him again.

It was sudden and tragic, and for a moment, I stood in silent respect. But I had lived too long in wild territory to have deep attachments. Grief was also a luxury in these lands.

I rolled up my mat and, after a moment of thought, I also took his pack of papers and stuck his smoldering torch into my belt. I might be able to sell them when I reached Esteban.

For a long time, I traveled on in the darkness. I was surprised to realize how much I missed my friend. He had done nothing to aid my journey, and yet, I felt something was missing.

I don't know how long I had traveled before I met another human. I had reached a juncture point, where the tunnel which I followed joined a larger one. As I reached it, my practiced eye made out two men traveling along. They were young—several years younger than me—and seemed inexperienced. I could tell just by watching them that they were nervous and uncertain, finding their way forward carefully.

Something stirred in my heart, something I could not explain. For just a moment, I hesitated. Then I pulled a roll of paper from my friend's pack and stuck it into the flickering head of the torch. Then holding the blazing light up high, I stepped forward.

“May I lend you a light?”