She moves her face towards what she supposes is upwards. Up there, in the mass of pitch-blackness, are droplets of bioluminescence, separating the obscurity of it all. The first time she ever saw them, these luminous beings of the abyss, happened to be the same moment her consciousness came to be. She struggled quite a great deal to find them a good name. Over time, dwindlings just stuck with her, as lacking and disgraceful as it might be to be called such thing. She could have just asked them, whence they have come and what they have become. But she never dared to go the lengths required to gain familiarity. She just kept making guesses until it became all she knew. Too late she realized the graveness of her actions, that the dwindlings are living as anything but themselves inside her mind.
So, to make up to each one of them, and to ensure that the overworld is not infected with her delusive ideas, she swore an oath. One that she has clung onto, as if it is the only thing confirming her being as something true, as breaking it would also shatter everything she knows of herself. “All that I am, needs to be kept within myself” she told herself that day, so silently that it should be heard by no one.
Yet even then, a voice so deep but still soaring high above her, asked: “So what will become of you in the end, if anything at all?” It had startled the girl. It was the strangest of experiences, one she anticipated to relive, but never did. After some time, she dismissed it as her own lunacy filling up empty spots with echoes of who might have been.
Yet even then…
Once she recognized the limits of her life, the inevitable end of it became unimportant. Still, she couldn´t stop her mind from wandering beyond the trench, to the places where even the dwindlings haven´t been. She dreamt of more, held onto the hope of a world grander than the one she knows. The fact that light has been brought to even the darkest of places, seemed to only confirm that midnight was never supposed to go on forever, that there exists beauty one can see, somewhere. "What is truly out there, if anything more than emptiness stretched out for eternity?" she has been whispering to herself countless of times, while looking up at the dwindlings holding to themselves, unaware of what brilliance they make together, and certainly unaware of the girl reaching for them in vain.
Who is out there, if anyone at all?
A lonesome dwindling passes by, too far from the others, and the girl begins to wonder what could have been if time and space was slightly altered and she was one to change along with it. If she had been born in a cave, as one with the dwindlings, and they were leaned against a wall marking the end of everything. There would be no outside, at least not to their knowledge. All to subsist, would be within her reach. Just like the dwindlings, she would have a spark. Letting it shine through, would bring every corner out of darkness, leaving no one unseen. In itself, her light would be good. She would just be.
So, she thinks to herself: The value of the simplest gesture quickly becomes tremendous when one has little to care for; when all that matters is what happens in a contained space and any misfortune which finds its way outside just gets lost in the void. Such primitive life sounds awfully easy to tolerate. So much so that it could have even brought me fulfillment. Oh no, what am I even thinking? These beliefs are of such nature that the slightest chance of someone catching them ought to be avoided at all costs.
That is when I choose to interfere.
I let down one of my tentacles, the one which got celestites as suckles. It catches her by quite the surprise to have her space lightened up in colors never seen before. She is hesitant, and even slightly scared, facing a fraction of me which is already so much bigger than herself. But she does grab onto the tip of my arm, as soon as curiosity takes over, which was bound to happen eventually. And just like that, I lift her out of the hole she never thought she would leave.
She can´t help but gasp once she lays eyes on me, the biggest dwindling to live. I happen to be quite gruesome looking. She is especially appalled by my eyes; gold stolen from pirates, but still somehow hollow. As if I would bother dragging their souls with me. And my scar, deepened by an old man’s spear, is near impossible to ignore. She is already making guesses as to how I got it, not even considering asking me. Not that it matters. I have accepted that my appearance is all that I will be known for. Only one could see beyond it.
“Fear me not,” I tell the girl. Her eyes widen immediately. After all, it is I who once spoke to her, the only one who ever has. I was the first to be there, after the start of everything.
Her thoughts are much louder now that she is standing so close: That voice. The one I thought was only my own, was actually someone else’s. This repugnant thing has heard me speak, known of me without making their presence known. Oh, how I wish I had been more careful with what I said out loud.
“I am quite a lot more than just a thing.”
This startles her even more. I am so sorry. I´ve never held conversation before. I had no idea my mind could be read.
“Only I can.” I mean this as a reassurance, but it is not taken as such. She is horrified to learn that everything she swore to keep inside, still found its way out. That the above can be moved by her, even when she is completely still. She takes a step back, hugging herself, as if it is the only thing keeping her from falling to the ground. Although her eyes are still open, it is clear that she is no longer present.
Then what will become of me, if anything at all? I can feel my body breaking, without a soul to tie all the pieces back together. Everything I thought I was, was never there to begin with, so there is not even a loss to grieve. I am empty. A nothing, cursed with the ability to think.
It pains me to see her this way. Despite having conversed with hundreds of orphans and childless mothers in the past, I find myself being at loss of good advice. All I can think of telling her is: “Dwindlings. It is a good name.”
She looks up, unsure if I am making a mockery of her or is just a bit dense. No, it is not. No one was supposed to know of it.
“And yet, here I am, knowing of it, and telling you, it is a good name. You came up with something new, and because of it, you have a piece of work to be known by. You cannot know if your ideas will do good or bad, but remembered, oh, that they certainly will be. This, to me, shows you are just as alive as the rest of us.”
But that is not what I want. I was never supposed to be known.
“Who is to decide such thing?”
I am. I should have the right to choose the course of my own existence.
“Yet, it seems like you have never had the option to choose anything at all.”
Her eyes flare up in fire brighter than any dwindling I have ever seen. You are starting to get on my nerves. Why did you even bring me up here? Was it only to push me back down?
Oh, I got so lost in conversation that I almost forgot. My memory is not as sound as it used to be. “I am here to give you exactly what you have been deprived of: a choice, a chance to travel to the above.”
This feeds her flame, but this time, it is not an extension of her anger, but something much more vulnerable. Ever since she knew to look up, she has been seeking the other sides end, if she is to believe that she is at the beginning, that is. This need for knowledge is the one thing which has gone against her determination to keep to herself; if she only could know without being known.
You know how to get to the above? Have you been there?
“I certainly have. Up there, they call me kraken. Oh, it is ever so bright there, so much so that some have been blinded.” I look up, sighing. It might have blinded me too, gotten me lost in my ideals. Put me on a path I can no longer stray off from. I used to be clean. If it wasn´t for the little girl all those years ago, I would have never drawn blood. But she needed me. The piece of wood she held onto, or the men who nailed her to it, couldn´t bring her to shelter. Only I could. She trusted me, despite the ocean never having been much kind to her and my face representing how deep evil goes. Having only lived 7 years, and not many more to go, she somehow taught me something not even eternity could. My sense of justice. It is the thing which will fuel my life, until it becomes the death of me.
Of course, this part of my history is kept from the girl standing before me, not that it would be of any interest to her. She is too hung up on what I said to even consider personal matters; the mystery of the above rather than what it means to have it revealed. They? There are others who live there? Others who are unlike us?
“There certainly is.”
And you can get me all the way up, to the very end?
“Yes, that is what I am offering.”
This causes the girl quite the distress. In exchange of greater knowledge, she needs to abandon herself, everything she thought she knew. Letting ink leak from her mouth but having nothing to write, as it all will dissolve into a heavy bearing cloud. Then again, there might not be any ink left in her to lose. Perhaps, now that the oath has been broken, she can let herself be free.
But what exactly will freedom mean for someone who has been emptied?
“Now, before you make up your mind about anything, you ought to know something. It is first when you are up there, that you will have a real choice to make.”
And what is that?
“To either become one of them or to succumb to what you have always been.”
The girl is not scared by this in any way. She is rather relieved to know that there is escape awaiting her, a solution to her internal struggle. What if I already know what to choose? Once I have seen what is up there, I will no longer need to be.
“It doesn´t work like that. Only when you are up there, will you know what to do, but you won´t have much time. When tomorrow comes, you need to have made a choice of whether to stay or not.”
What is… tomorrow?
“Only the above can tell you.”
This settles it for the girl, despite all her fears. I will no longer know how to live if I don´t see what is up there. Please, I want to go, for good.
And so, I hand her over one of my celestites, and explain to her that it will be her guide but needs to be awakened with a kiss. She listens carefully and her lips go from blue to red as she presses it against them. From the gemstone, an eel appears and weaves around her body. The dwindlings surround above us, and drop long passed jellyfishes into her hair, causing it to rise. The bell of the largest one falls around her waist, making a skirt which will light up the way. And in its glow, her face shine pale as the moon. It is a stunning sight to behold, one that the dwindlings have only ever dreamt of.
Thank you, she mimics with her lips, as the eel pulls her up and to the above. In my head, I respond with an acknowledging nod. The dwindlings make way for her to pass, and the youngest one of them exclaims that the girl got wings on her back. Although none of the rest agrees on seeing this, I don´t necessarily think he is completely wrong. She rises, so that the home of forgotten beings who could never fly, may one day be brought to light.
And although I am happy to see her go, I must admit, I also feel a lingering sadness. Perhaps I could have been known differently, if I had only been brave enough to talk a bit more.
The girl looks around but shies away from all glances which turn to her. So much she has never seen up close. In the trench, all the dwindlings looked the same, just in slightly different sizes. But now, she realizes that even the ones who are made of the same, have their own face. She touches her own, and wonders what it is that have shaped her. If comb jellies can be seen in seaweed and iridescent pearls, then does that mean there are parts of her too which are apart from her? If so, where would she have to go, to find her eyes, her smile? Would she even dare to face such place, to have herself looking right back at her? All these questions are to her just vague impressions of all she is striving to understand but lack the words to ask.
As they get higher, the eel tells her to be aware of the sun, that it will soon light up the water. She is confused as to what they mean, and the eel seems to get this, without her having to say anything at all.
“Look around you, it is not as dark as it used to be, is it? Midnight has turned to twilight.”
And they are right. The dwindlings are long gone, but it has not blinded her. In the far distance, she can see the silhouette of an enormous creature, a shadow only light can draw. Despite how much space it is taking up, it seems to be in a vulnerable state. It sings so longingly, the sound reaching nowhere so that there is not even an echo to reply. The girl realizes it can´t possibly be where it is meant to be, that it must have born to be so much bigger. So, in an attempt to soothe whatever wounds it may have, she starts to hum back in a slightly deeper tune. All this time, there has been song inside her, the same as what fills the heart of a being so large. She never knew how to bring it out, that she even could, until now.
Perhaps you and I are the same.
And the song is what brings them together. The creature is drawn to the girl, wondering what small thing could possibly be replicating its all-consuming loneliness. If it is hope which is standing before it. So, it approaches her, appearing to grow in size the closer it gets, yet its face remains hidden. For all the girl knows, it might be nothing but a dark, faceless spot, floating around with no sense of direction. This fills her with fear of the uncertainty, of what she may be attracting now that she is using her voice. Still, she keeps on humming. It would have been an act of cruelty to stop now. Only when they are a few feet apart, does a slim, translucent beam of sunlight reach them, shining on its eyes, and revealing a gentleness tucked in layers of rough years. And in the depths of them, there is a younger, smaller being whose just as scared as the girl is. A someone who is too far from the surface to know of anything but everlasting darkness.
But the girl, she knows of more, now that she has gotten so close to the above. She admires the beam and wish she could show it to the rest who’s stuck on the bottom. So, she starts grasping for it, so focused that she forgets to keep on humming, but the light is lost between her fingers the moment she stops.
Once I reach the above, will I meet you, the one who holds the power to extend its light so far? If so, please lend me some when we meet.
The creatures’ eyes suddenly lose their expression and all they contained; dimming, although it is following her upwards and towards the sun. But despite this, and the girl turning silent, it continues to sing. And its song is no longer just a set of undefinable sounds, but actual words she can understand: “I am the blue whale of the sea. This past decade I have spent alone. Sometimes I wonder if it has been even longer. Ever since my children were taken from me, I´ve known of nothing except for singing and hoping that one day they will find their way back to me.”
The girls heart start to ache, as if she is mourning the same loss, and then she hums in sounds the whale can understand: “Who took them?”
“The rulers of the above.”
“The above? That is where I am going as we speak! Perhaps I can ask them where your children are?”
The whale goes quiet for a bit. Meanwhile the girl wonders who must be up there, if even the blue whale turns frail when standing before them. One would think that a creature so grand and wise, whose presence is so prominent that discoveries about oneself is made by its mere existence, would be set to rule the depths and the above. But no, greatness is not limited by such thing. She aches to meet with the one on top of it all, hoping that they will tame her anguished soul in ways that not even a whale’s song can.
Eventually, the whale gathers the courage to sing again: “I can´t tell if you are being brave or foolish. Such place will forever change you.”
“But change is good, is it not?” The girl asks.
“No, change is the worst that can happen to one. If I could go back to the place I came to be, and stay there forever, I would, undoubtedly. Just think of how much better the world would be if it stayed the way it was left.”
The girl is struggling to understand how one can possibly want for things to be unchanged, to only be led by one’s horizon. “Then why are you following me? If you wish to stay at one spot, then I won´t keep you from doing just that.” She, however, wants to go as far as she can, and only when she can´t go any further, will she want it to end.
“I can never go back to stillness because I decided to move a long time ago. All because I once was foolish like you. But I won´t stay for long. Once we enter day, I will turn around, and go back to what I know.”
Although the whale’s way of living will forever be foreign to her, she respects its principles. “Thank you for being here for a little while,” she hums in reply, but her voice breaks, as she is too weak to say much more. So, the thoughts that follow are entirely for her, and me, to hear:
We might not be of the same, after all, but it is only because of our individuality that we have the power to choose how we want to be in a brief instant of life. The return to eternal unconsciousness will come soon enough, and we will all be made of the same when that time comes. I will try to remember this in my final moment.
As they go into day, and the whale is about to leave, she gets this sudden urge to tell it to stay with her. She is surprised to realize this about herself, because it goes against what she has previously thought; that she is made for solitude, to be kept on a distance from worldly processes and interactions with others. But ever since she dared to make noise, she has come to find a sort of fulfillment in conversation, and more importantly, she has learned that each one makes their own ideas of the world. That everyone is trying to make sense of their surroundings, and that sharing these can do good. To hear the whale’s perspective on change, only made her consider how the nature of change is shaped by what one has always known; that she has been craving change, because she believed she was doomed to forever suffer. For the whale, however, change meant losing everything it cared for, a home which in itself was enough.
Perhaps this means that my ideas, shaped by experiences unfamiliar to others, too can do good.
Still, fear keeps her from sharing any of this with the whale. So instead, she reaches her hand out to its fin, hoping to signal that even with things changed, one does not have to go through life alone. They only have a few seconds left with each other, but why should that matter when seconds is all she will ever have? She would like to stay close, to feel its present, even if it is just for an instant. The whale accepts her hand, and the girl is shocked to see its eye producing water, the very thing keeping them all alive. She wonders if this is its way of making their world a bit bigger, to extend how far future generations can go, and to set in motion the tiniest change.
“One never knows how long a friendship will last, but that is no reason to not nurture it until its end. I have scars which has only gotten deeper from a decade of pain. They will never be fully gone, but holding your hand, makes it hurts a little less. Thank you.” The whale tells her in its final song. Then it lets go, turns around and goes back to what it knows.
The girl looks up and for the first time, she sees the end of life as she knows it, a place where water can no longer go on. She assumed this would be all there is, that beyond this point, would nothingness await, and that all she would have to do to get there was pass through. But she was wrong. There is more. The very thing which sent down its light, the sun. She is still too far to see its face, but she just knows, that this must be the start of all life, the one who has been ruling before even the beginning of time. The answers she has been seeking. They are right there.
Then why is it, that I am so afraid? She asks herself, but there is no one by her side to guide her, as the eel loosens its grip and tells her:
“I am not meant to go any further, so you have to do this last part by yourself. Swim up to the above and make your choice. It has been a pleasure accompanying you.”
Then, all that is left, is her, and the depth underneath her, suddenly seeming endless. The girl starts to crawl upwards. Prior to this, it has been with the help of a tentacle and its appendage that she has been moving forward, an outer force pulling her one direction. Now, she has only herself to depend on. This requires more strength than she had imagined, a determination to go on her own will, even when she is full of doubts. Most I´ve met would have given up by now, but her drive is strong. Her muscles burn every step on the way, and she may be nothing but embers by the end of it, but she believes it all will be worth it as long as her ability to think remains. There will be no pain once knowledge is reached.
And for her last moment underwater, the sun shines so bright, blinding her and sending her back to the trench, where all which laid ahead was the unknown.
The girl is first confused. The sun is still so high above her, but no matter how hard she tries, she can no longer go upwards. Then the wind fills her lungs with air, and she coughs it out immediately, because the sensation of being full of nothing causes her great anxiety. Her hair is no longer hers to control either, as it is trying to fly away from her, now that she no longer can rise with it.
“Is this you mocking me?” she yells to the sun, and in response, it starts running from her. She gets this sudden urge to water her eyes, just like the whale had done. Tears is all which is left in her, now that her burnt-out body is starting to wither. She gets a taste of the first to reach her mouth, and even if it is way too salty for her liking, there is a comfort in knowing that she has carried a piece of her home all this way. Then, she watches as the rest falls into the ocean, becoming interchangeable with the ones of a stranger.
She is about to go after the sun, in hopes that they can meet at the horizon, but is stopped by the sound of laughter behind her. She turns around, somehow recognizing that such noise is an expression for joy. That is when she sees them, a couple of humans, running around on an island. They are playing some sort of game, where they chase each other down, catching one another to prevent falls. The shortest of them, starts kicking around with her feet as she is being lifted high, and the tallest one loses his balance, so that they both drop to the ground. Above them, remains a dusty cloud, which glows in the light. And as all this is happening, possibly having bruised their knees and elbows, they continue to laugh. That is what they put into the air they breathe, so they can never be empty.
Without ever having seen herself, the girl recognizes herself in the humans. Her eyes are made of the same as theirs. A head laying on the other one’s chest, listening to its heartbeat, while the girl can barely feel her own. With winter approaching, two humans will choose to stay close to each other, even if that means having to watch a bonfire from afar. And once they turn weak, barely making it through the night, they will keep on singing until the morning birds reply. Love. All that there is, is love. The very thing her hands was made for. She has feared facing herself, only to find that from the point where doubt ends and she begins, remains a deep care which will persist until the death of time. She simply is. She has simply always been.
The girl looks back to the sun, which is soon to be gone, only showing half of itself now. That is when she makes her choice. She will stay with the humans, as a human, even if that means forever being in the shadows of enlightenment.
“You are not the one who will bring me laughter.” She yells to the sun before swimming in direction of land. As she pushes herself forward, the sky changes, but not into faith in a new day. Rather, it is bleeding in stark red, and not a drop of it is shared with the water. The true nature of the above. But she, will let herself be as she is, not succumbing to suffering and hatred. So, she keeps on swimming, not even looking up to a torn heaven.
She is getting close, a wave carrying her the last bit. The couple has fallen asleep, lying next to each other. Once her feet are on dry sand, she will know of a similar peace. But as she can vaguely feel the ground underneath her, she is struck by a message from the sun, as its very last ray is peeking from the horizon and gesturing its farewell. She looks up to a sky drained of its colors and sees the stars. Not that she knows that is what they are called. To her, they are just dwindlings.
All which surrounds her, even her own flesh, disappears. What remains, is just a girl´s mind in pitch-blackness, wondering what may lay beyond the lights above her. She is still in the trench. Wherever she goes, she can never leave it. Nothing has changed, not even within herself. She would have to travel from star to star, to learn each one’s way of being. Only then could she know if up is where all sea angels go to have their final days or if she is still below all she thought was now beneath her. She and the rest of the universe, just made of droplets from an unreachable sun.
But there is too many of you, more than I can count, and what if I only find even more of you once I think I´ve finally become one to be among you? How can I ever end my wondering, if I can never know if you will bring me to something more or curse me to face what I have always known?
As she is about to give up, and return to midnight, the stars clear the path for the moon to rise. Reflected in the water, going all the way to meet her. Unlike the sun, it has a distinct face, welcoming her to stay under its light. In its eyes, she sees both sorrow and hope; a hollowness which will remain even when it shines. Some nights, it is consumed by it, leaving the stars to guide in its place. And from its dust, dwindlings found their spark. Not even beings ripped away from sunlight were doomed to eternal darkness under the moons rule.
She looks at her own hand, lowering it to the ocean. And as she lets it drift through the water, she notices how it becomes one with it. That is when she finally realizes. She may see herself in the humans, but also in the stars and moon above her; the whale, the jellies and the eel which brought her to the surface; the dwindlings, the dust-covered surface and the trench which has been her only home. From the depths to the last planet to be. She is in everything because she is everything. It was she, who was the start of time. From her which life came to be. A seed planted in the ashes of her own. Only because of her mind, do I exist, do we all exist.
She looks to the moon, in its eyes gold stolen from the sun, and says: “This is what you wanted to show me.”
Then she starts swimming towards the horizon, not once looking back at the ripples she leaves behind. "
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