To his right is another man, Tsal, who walks as he does and surveys everything with a hard, implacable gaze. Tsal studies Ylper, confusion written across his face. He follows close behind, as tirelessly as ever-present, merciless death. Amid this constancy they are inseparable, and it might have grown into a very good friendship—together through every circumstance—but it has not.
That is as impossible as keeping death from being eternal and painful.
Tsal watches Ylper's clumsy, faltering progress, grows alarmed, and hurries into a run toward him.
"No! No, stop! You'll die in that lighthouse—don't go on!" Tsal warns as he runs after Ylper as fast as he can.
"Leave me alone," Ylper mutters, barely audible.
They race among the trees of that strange, dark forest, dodging obstacles and leaping over rocks and branches. Ylper is ten paces ahead of Tsal, but comes to a complete stop beside an enormous tourmaline-hued boulder. He picks up two stones, each as large as his fists, and waits.
When Tsal reaches him in the clearing by the tourmaline boulder, he sees the stones clenched in Ylper's hands and stops running. He chooses to hide behind a thick-trunked tree.
"Who are you? And why are you going to the lighthouse?" Tsal asks, burdened by the concern that comes with knowledge.
"This is an enormous forest, as you can see. There are no buildings here except that one—the lighthouse. Take one more step and I'll smash your skull with these stones," Ylper says nervously.
"Yes, but that isn't an ordinary building. Nor is it a lighthouse like the ones you know on coasts or islands."
Ylper does not drop the stones. Even so, he lowers his guard and, curiosity stirring, asks a question.
"What do you mean, it isn't a lighthouse?"
"I mean..." Tsal hesitates, as though searching for a word that does not exist. "I don't know. It's different. But please, don't go there... not again."
"Again?" Ylper asks, utterly confused. "What kind of nonsense is this?"
"Please. I only want to help you—to save you, to save us."
"You damned lunatic. Get away from here!"
Ylper lets the stones fall from his hands and runs again, as fast as his condition allows.
"Yes, of course. I don't think so," Tsal whispers to himself before setting off after him once more.
They are lost, apparently aimless, alone, with no clear paths, and considered dead by those who once knew them in a past now forgotten, like stars fading from the sky.
The night sky holds two dark suns. They shine only a little brighter than distant moons. Their dim light makes the forest around them feel immense, dark as a sea of trunks covering everything to the horizon. They have neither water nor food. All they have is each other, and therefore they have nothing.
They run through the dense forest as thick vapor begins to rise from it. Tsal trips over something and crashes to the ground. He scrambles to his feet, but before he can rise, Ylper reaches him. Having doubled back, Ylper now stands over Tsal, threatening him with a wooden stick.
"Who the hell are you?" Ylper demands, keeping the stick trained on him.
Tsal tries to rise slowly, but Ylper thrusts the wooden stick closer in warning. Tsal is forced to keep his torso pressed to the ground.
"Tsal. That's my name."
"What? Is this some kind of joke?"
"The only joke here is your unending denial."
"We've been crossing this damned forest for two days, and only now do you speak to me."
"It's the only way, Ylper. You have to stop. You have to abandon this journey to the lighthouse."
"Your words never make any sense."
"Nothing makes sense in this illogical place."
Ylper falls silent in thought. Only for an instant—as brief as the flash of an idea that never quite comes into being.
"Since you've suddenly become so talkative, tell me everything you know about this place you call the lighthouse," Ylper demands.
"I don't know much. It's a strange building in the middle of nowhere. Farther ahead, beyond the forest, you'll see an enormous tower crowned by a dome. At night, a turquoise light shines from its summit. It isn't like any other light you know."
Ylper takes a moment to consider what he has just heard.
"But what is it?" Ylper presses. "Who built it?"
"I don't know that. But you know what I mean."
"Hmm. No. I'm not sure of anything right now."
"For some reason, you feel compelled to go there, to enter it. You've done it again and again, but you mustn't do it anymore. Never again. In fact, you should never have done it in the first place."
"But why do I go inside?" Ylper asks, bewildered.
"You're convinced salvation lies inside the lighthouse—a way out. But there is no such thing. No salvation. No escape."
The force of those words strikes Ylper. He shakes his head, staggers back a couple of steps, and begins to despair.
"Just tell me one thing, and tell me honestly. Have I died in there before—in that lighthouse?"
Tsal does not answer. He lets a silence settle around them, denser even than the vapor rising from the earth. Still on the ground, Tsal looks away, avoiding Ylper's eyes.
"Answer me!" Ylper demands in desperation. "Why do you know I mustn't go there? Have you watched me die after going inside?"
Tsal grimaces, on the verge of saying something, but ultimately chooses absolute silence.
"Speak, damn you!"
"I only know what I've already told you!"
"You expect me to believe you?"
"I expect nothing."
"I don't believe a word of the little you say."
"Neither can I."
"You're staying here. Don't follow me again. I won't hesitate to use this if I ever see you near my shadow," Ylper warns, pointing the stick at him.
Ylper backs away without taking his eyes off Tsal, careful not to stumble. At last, he disappears from sight.
Across a blunt-edged prairie, lit by that pair of dark suns in broad daylight that looks more like dawn, Ylper pushes silently through tall grass. He moves quickly. Behind him rises the immense, overcrowded forest; ahead, the landscape lies bleak and dark.
Heavy storm clouds threaten mute flashes of lightning overhead. Halfway to the shadows, rain begins to pour across the land and over him. Ylper whirls at the sound of something cracking nearby. Tsal is no more than fifteen paces away, emerging as little more than a shadow above the grass.
He makes a point of showing Ylper that his hands are raised.
"I'm sorry. I've thought it over and changed my mind. You're right. I'll help you reach the lighthouse. I'm the only one who can get you there. I know the way."
Ylper turns, approaches to within five paces of Tsal, and stops.
"Didn't I tell you—" Ylper begins, but Tsal interrupts him.
"You know I'm the only one who can get you there faster. I'll do it, if that's what you want."
"Do I know you from somewhere?" Ylper asks, confused, narrowing his eyes as he studies the man.
"Definitely not."
"Your voice sounds very familiar, though your face doesn't."
Tsal lowers his hands.
"That's strange," he replies.
"How long have you been in this place?"
"Five weeks, although, as I think you know perfectly well, it took us centuries to get here."
"Truthfully, no. I'm no longer sure what I know and what I don't."
"Well, that would be astonishing if it weren't terrifying."
"Honestly, your voice is identical to Dimitri's. He was a good friend of mine."
"Believe me when I tell you it's a miracle that you can hear me and speak to me."
"I suppose you mean that I can hear you despite being... deaf from birth. Is that it? If so, then yes—I can scarcely believe it."
"No, that isn't what I meant. Never mind. Let it go."
"That will only matter if we manage to escape, and... you'll agree that the only way out of this place is to reach the lighthouse. You know that, don't you?"
"We cannot escape this place. There is no possible way out. You wouldn't believe me if I told you what will happen when you reach the lighthouse."
"I don't know. Tell me. Do your best. Perhaps we won't need to go there if you can give me a good enough reason."
"I won't waste my time that way again. I'd rather help you and show you."
"I don't think you're in your right mind."
Tsal smiles at the remark.
"Perhaps that's the only thing we can agree on."
"Go on, then. Lead the way. Show me how to reach the lighthouse."
Tsal crosses the ten paces separating him from Ylper. There he stops, eyes the wooden stick in Ylper's hand, then resumes walking, passes him, and moves ahead. Once Tsal is about ten paces away, Ylper follows.
Above them, over that dark prairie in the midst of its nocturnal day, the torrential rain finally eases after they have traveled for some time. The clouds clear from the sky. The pair of dark suns sinks toward the distant horizon, then vanishes beneath it. They continue in silence, Tsal never looking back and Ylper never questioning the path they tread.
At one point, Tsal stops in a rocky clearing amid the vast prairie and its tall grass. Alarmed to see him halt, Ylper hurries to catch up. When he does, he examines the circular perimeter of stones and the patch of earth enclosed within, which looks as though it has been burned for all eternity.
"What do you think this is?" Ylper asks.
As he speaks, he spreads his hands and continues turning in a circle.
"You might want to look at that particular stone," Tsal suggests.
He points to a medium-sized rock bearing a message written in charcoal. Ylper approaches, crouches, and studies it closely, focusing on the inscription.
"What do you think these drawings are?" Ylper asks.
"Just as I thought: you can't read. You don't even know those are letters from a language."
"Is that bad? Can you read this?"
"I'll read it to you. It says: 'This message is for Ylper. The lighthouse is near; fate rests in your hands. The future shall become the past, calamities and all. Follow the same steps as before. The lighthouse will appear before you; destiny will open like a window onto tomorrow. Travel the path you have already traveled. D.'"
"D? Who is D?" Ylper asks, confused.
"Whoever it is, they wrote this for you."
"Does any of this seem natural to you?"
"Why do you ask?"
"What does it mean, 'travel the path you have already traveled'?"
"I think you know perfectly well what it means."
Ylper reflects for a moment, then speaks again, dismissing the matter.
"We'd better go."
"That would be best."
Tsal resumes his march, leaving the ring of stones and its scorched earth behind as he heads back into the tall grass. Ylper gives the rock and its unreadable scrawls one last look, then follows Tsal seconds later.
Across the prairie, now misty in the twilight, rain pours down. Tsal walks five paces ahead of Ylper over barren, stony ground. They are drenched and shrouded in dense fog. Farther on, they trudge across gelatinous mud, their pace slowed by exhaustion.
Tsal stops; Ylper does the same almost at once. Through the dense fog, which does not thin in the slightest, Tsal looks up and ahead. High above them, an intense turquoise light shines.
"We've arrived," Tsal announces fearfully.
"Is that light coming from the lighthouse?"
"What do you think?"
"At last! The lighthouse is our salvation, our way out, our future! It's larger and taller than I imagined."
"We'd better keep moving," Tsal replies without a trace of enthusiasm.
Ylper notices that Tsal is now clutching his abdomen. Peering through the darkness, fog, and rain, he discovers blood seeping from a wound.
"Wait! You're hurt," Ylper says with concern.
"I have been all along. You've only just noticed."
"That wound looks serious."
Tsal pays him no heed. He looks ahead, toward the turquoise light cast by the lighthouse. Scarlet drops spill from his abdomen, driven by the rain, running between his fingers before falling into the mud.
"Let's go on, before I can no longer move," Tsal warns him.
"That must hurt."
Tsal does not seem to hear. He presses forward, leaving Ylper behind. Ylper gives the turquoise light one last look, then hurries eagerly after him.
At last, after some time, Tsal stops and looks forward and up. The lighthouse stands only a few steps away: a cyclopean structure, ancient, solid, and immensely tall, its architecture unconventional—strange and somber, in fact. At its summit, an intense turquoise light blazes.
"There it is—the lighthouse. I can't believe we're here agai—" Tsal cannot finish. He is weak and pale.
He looks back, searching for Ylper, but cannot see him anywhere in the mist.
"Of course. Why not? I should have known."
Tsal sinks to his knees in the mud, then topples onto his side beneath the rain. He closes his eyes. Someone grips him under the arms, pulls him along, and drags him inside the lighthouse. They enter through a small, thick, solid wooden hatch, which seals once they are within.
Outside the lighthouse, the rain still falls in torrents. The darkness shed by those two suns is profound, relieved only by the lighthouse's turquoise beam. The storm rages with lightning, flashes, and thunder.
Inside the lighthouse, Tsal wakes with a start and pushes himself up from the floor. A puddle remains where he lay. He is in a small circular chamber with glass walls. At its very center stands a crystal tube filled with thick turquoise liquid.
The liquid shines so brightly that it dazzles him. Tsal approaches, studies it, and presses one palm against the crystalline surface.
A voice rises behind him, soft and far too close:
"It's cold, isn't it?" the voice says.
Tsal recoils and snatches his hand away from the thing.
"Ylper!" Tsal exclaims joyfully. "Where did you go? What is this?"
Their voices, echoing again and again, are the only sounds within.
"This will give you the answers you've been waiting for. Once inside, there is no pain, no sound. There is nothing," Ylper tells him.
A metal hatch opens at the top of the tube. Turquoise vapor spills from within.
"What? I'm not getting into that," Tsal warns.
"But Tsal, you've only just come out of it. How do you think I healed your wound?"
Tsal hastily examines his abdomen and confirms that the wound is indeed gone. Not even blood or a scar remains, though his clothing is torn where the injury had been. He feels the place with both hands.
"What?"
"It's what you've asked for time and time and time again, my dear friend—Dimitri Tsal. You asked for answers, and answers are what you're being offered," Ylper says with a smile.
"My answers? What are they, and where are they?"
"They're standing before you. Me, Tsal. I am your answers. And now, if you wish to know more, you must go and find them in there."
As he speaks, Ylper walks slowly around the tube at the center of the chamber. Tsal follows him with his eyes. After Ylper's final word, he simply vanishes behind the turquoise light and does not emerge on the other side as expected. Tsal searches frantically around the tube.
What he does find is a metal ladder. He studies it, tests it, and finally climbs. At the top, he touches the luminous turquoise liquid, thick as honey, whose glow projects outward from the lighthouse for miles. Tsal puts one foot into the tube, then the other, and lets himself fall inside.
The hatch slams shut, locking from the outside as automatic mechanisms turn into place. Within, rather than being enveloped in light, Tsal is immersed in absolute darkness. His own voice sounds faintly, joined by a multitude of other whispering voices. He blinks more slowly each time, but never falls asleep.
During one of those countless blinks, he opens his eyes and sees the light return, dazzling him. Tsal now realizes he is descending beneath a parachute, falling without pause toward a world with a dark sky barely lit by two suns no brighter than distant moons. Above his head, Tsal sees a disintegrating spacecraft following close behind.
The metal debris is about to strike his parachute.
At last he lands, frees himself from the parachute's tangled cords, and flees the impact zone as scores of fragments rain down everywhere. He runs as fast as he can among the pieces of metal slamming into the ground.
After escaping the largest explosion and the heaviest impact, Tsal crosses the mountain range and climbs the next summit. Soon he stands atop a slope, looking out at a cyclopean building some distance away—neither near nor far.
The following day, exhausted and wounded, he finds himself struggling through a pit of mud that proves to be quicksand. With tremendous effort, he finally pulls himself free near dusk.
He reaches a second disaster zone, where he had fallen among the wreckage. Twilight already stains the sky. Within that perimeter of debris from the disintegrated ship, he discovers a sprawl of charred corpses that fills him with horror.
Only one body still seems alive: a man who startles at Tsal's presence and fires at him from the ground. The shot strikes Tsal in the abdomen, and the wounded man flees. Tsal plunges into a dense, overcrowded dark forest, running desperately through the trees with both hands pressed to the wound in his abdomen.
Daylight gleams a while later, though the morning is as dark as dawn. Ylper makes his way through the deep forest, struggling against the many obstacles in his path. To his right, Tsal walks as he does, watching and studying him.
And war, ever-present and merciless, has never ceased. Amid that constancy, they were and always will be inseparable. This might have been a friendship—a true one—together through every circumstance. But no. Never. Theirs is an impossible bond, as eternal as pain. Ylper looks at Tsal, takes fright, and begins to run as fast as he can.
"No! No! You'll die in that lighthouse!" Tsal warns urgently.
Tsal races after Ylper.
"Leave me alone! Leave me!" Ylper demands, clutching the painful wound in his abdomen.
They race among the trees, dodge obstacles, and leap over rocks and branches. Directly and inexorably, they make for the immense Ylper Lighthouse.
THE END