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Writer's pictureTristan Dyln Tano

The Break of Dawn - a short story

Updated: Oct 17, 2022

The golden mango in Tindig’s hand drummed like the heart of a pulsing star. It weighed heavily, far greater than anything he has ever carried in his long, long lifetime. But Tindig held it steadfast, his arm blazing with everlasting pain.


“You’re crazy. You actually have it!” the brown bird exclaimed. It flapped its wings ferociously against the mighty wind that swept the forest. A forest far too large for any of them. “This is a violation of divine law!”


“Forget the divine! We need to help him! NOW!” Arilag commanded. She swept through leaves twice her size and climbed a moss-covered root to stand beside Tindig. Her long black hair whipping through the air as she did.


Tindig struggled. It took all his remaining energy just to stand. He gripped his right forearm, the arm that bore the fruit, so tight that his skin turned a shade of violet.


Arilag placed her hand on Tindig’s back. A burst of lightning surged through them. A shared realization of pain. Arilag recoiled in shock, but Tindig endured.


“Tell us what to do!” shouted Arilag over the deafening winds. “Like you always do!”


“I—” Tindig groaned, falling to a knee. “Ugh.” He could feel his body deteriorating, succumbing to the energy of the golden fruit. An inward force pulled and tugged at his soul.

No, Tindig thought. He had to fight it. His soul was the last bastion of defense between the world and its own end. He felt as if he were holding fire itself. The fire that gave birth to life. Silly Tindig, his father’s words echoed in his head. Remember who you are. You are an engkanto. You have no place to alter fate.


“COME BACK TO ME!” Arilag’s voice knocked Tindig back to the forest. She held his face, one hand on each cheek. Upon contact, a familiar pain went through them. But this time, Arilag held. “Please, Tindig.”


Their eyes locked. Even with explosions coursing through his body, Tindig couldn’t help but notice the depth of Arilag’s brown eyes. Eyes that were as beautiful as constellations. But Tindig mourned because he knew what had to come next.


“I—” he repeated, but this time he found words. “Need to do this alone. I have to finish this. I have to do something. I have to—” He coughed green blood. The blood of the engkantos.


Tindig widened his gaze, shaking. Behind Arilag were her sister, Arona, and Tindig’s brother, Talon. They kept their distance warily, as their pointed ears pricked to the incoming sounds of a grand stampede. The ground rumbled.


The ground shook even more violently, then Talon spoke. “He comes,” he said, turning to the direction of the pounding hooves. “And this is His wrath.”


Arona shivered beside him, hiding behind a leaf, gripping it tightly. Her lips shaking in fear.

“Well?” The large brown bird hovered above, looking at all of them smugly, like the end of the world was nothing but a game. “You went through all of this. Forgetting my cautions and advice. You must have a plan, right?”


“We will take His pact. His deal. The oath of invisibility,” answered Talon.


Tindig mustered his strength just to speak. “And die a long and tireless death, brother?”

“When they forget about me,” Talon faltered. “When they forget about us. Yes.”


“Do you think they will? They’ll forsake us? They’ll forget where they came from?” asked Tindig.


Talon sighed. “They always do.”


Tindig grieved. He thought of his family, all he and Talon lost along the way to get here. No, not lost. All that was taken from them.


He who presides above made quick work of His desired destruction, the purging of all that was. He sent His legions, armies of unmatchable strength, to cleanse the world as anyone had ever known it. No opposing force, no spirits nor species nor armies ever stood a chance. And Tindig would know because he and all his brethren tried.


They tried and they failed. They’ve lost the war.


But the enemy hasn’t won yet.


“Are you sure about this?” Arilag strained her voice. “You’ll be one of them! Is that what you really want!? To be made in His image?!” she protested, her voice breaking. Tears started flowing down her cheeks.


“I… I must,” he said under his own breath, not knowing if she heard him. The pain was at its peak. “To… to preserve our vengeance. To claim our justice.” Tindig didn’t want to lose her. But he needed to.


The large brown bird fluttered above them. “You promised to protect us,” said Tindig.


“And I will,” the bird nodded. That was all Tindig needed to hear.


As he moved to take a bite at the golden fruit, Arilag clasped his hand in hers, and they both ate a portion of it together. Before Tindig could push her away, to save her from his damnation, a volcanic eruption detonated inside his head, like a dam broke and all the oceans of the Earth gashed to fill his skull. Then everything went to white.


***


Tindig woke in a pure white space. He stood, feeling as light as light itself. The massive weight that once pulsed in his hand now gone.


In front of him knelt a sleeping Arilag. Her black hair fell to her shoulders. He always liked how gracefully her hair danced in the wind. But there was no wind now.


Between them was a rock the size of Tindig’s palm. Another rock came falling from above, landing disturbingly close to Arilag’s head.


Tindig walked and moved her to a safer location. She was still sleeping and looked at peace, so he didn’t want to disturb her. Though his hand lingered on her cheek. Her pointed nose looked like it was specially carved by a master sculptor. It was the first time they were ever this close to each other, he realized. That made his heart beat deeper.


Arilag woke. Tindig tensed and immediately moved away, clumsily. For some reason, heat started to rise to his face.


“Where are we?” she asked, rubbing the spot where Tindig’s hand was.


“I don’t know,” answered Tindig coolly.


Arilag looked around. “Does this go on forever?”


Tindig looked too. It certainly seemed like it did. “Does it matter?”


“What kind of a question is that?” She elbowed him lightly. “Of course it does. If we knew, maybe we can find a way out.”


“And then what?” Part of Tindig didn’t want to go out. He wanted to stay here. Why? He didn’t know exactly.


Another rock fell.


“What is that?” she motioned to the rocks. There was now a pile of three.


Tindig walked towards it. “I… don’t know.”


She walked beside him, and another rock fell. “Do you know anything at all?” She chuckled.


“Is there any end to your questions?”


“What isn’t there to ask?”


Tindig shrugged. “Well, you can start by asking nothing.”


Arilag fell silent, and in the silence another rock fell from above. They both looked up and saw nothing but white.


“Did we just witness the end of the world?” she asked.


“Maybe. Or maybe it was the opposite.”


“Is there a difference?”


“Guess not.” They both sat there in silence, allowing the rocks to fall.


Time moved weirdly where they were. There was no sun or moon to measure the length of days. Instead, they used the frequency of their sleep to determine one day from the next. There was no hunger in the white space. Or at least, Tindig never once felt the need to eat. He assumed the same of Arilag since she never complained about the lack of food.


Time in the white space did weird things to them too. On the fifth day—


Fourth,” corrected Arilag. “You barely even slept.” She sat on her legs, observing the falling rocks. There was a lot of them now. Too many to count. The pile stood higher than them on some points.


But Tindig’s eyes were not on the rocks. They were on Arilag. Her pointed ears were now more curved and rounded. Her pointed nose shrunk and softened. He wondered if the same had happened to him.


But he didn’t need to wonder long.


“Do they seem smaller to you?” She kept her eyes on the rocks.


Tindig neared the pile, as another rock dropped. They did. They all seemed smaller. “No,” he answered. “We’ve gotten bigger, I think.” He stretched his hands like they were reaching out into the world for the first time. They felt new, somehow. Fresher and, for some reason, stronger. They were changing.


“You’re right,” said Arilag. She stood; her face confused. She looked at Tindig for answers, but he didn’t have any. All he had was questions. Did Arona and Talon make it? he wondered of the world outside. Did they survive?


He had to know. Without looking back, he ran. Arilag called out to him, but it was too late. His feet were moving now, and they couldn’t stop.


Four days. They’ve wasted four days inside this white prison, doing nothing but sleep and talk and watch the rocks fall as they went. Outside, the world ravaged.


Tindig closed his eyes. He ran and ran and ran. He had to find a way to escape. For both himself and Arilag, but for Arilag most especially. His knees and hamstrings strained but he kept moving. He let his feet lead him, as he did when he stole the golden fruit from the giant tree. His feet haven’t betrayed him yet.


Until they did.


Tindig tripped on something hard and uneven, falling awkwardly to the white floor beneath. He opened his eyes, and above him smiled a familiar face.


“Had fun with your little exercise?” smirked Arilag.


Tindig groaned in pain, clutching his knee and ankle. He ran over one side of the pile of rocks, he realized. “How am I…?” He wiped a trickle of his green blood off his knee.


“I have no idea. One moment you were disappearing over the far end there—” She pointed to one side of the white space. “—and you just reappeared there.” She pointed to the opposite side.


“So it’s a loop,” said Tindig, resigning to the floor. “Great. No way in or out of this place.” Another rock fell. “Where in the world are those coming from?”


“They have to come from somewhere, right?” said Arilag. “Then…” She neared the pile and grabbed a rock. She observed it, twiddling the stone between her fingers, like it was the most interesting thing in all of existence.


Without caution, she threw the rock above to the white sky.


At first, nothing. But at the peak of the rock’s arc, about 25 feet into the air, it hit something. A soft sound rang across the vast white space, too meager for the inattentive ear. But not to Arilag’s. She began assembling the rocks immediately.


“Help me,” she said.


Tindig winced as he stood, still recovering from his unpleasant fall.


They cluttered the rocks and piled them to stacks of ascending heights. One next to each other. Stairs. Sweat poured across both of their faces and bodies as they moved rocks from one pile to another, making sure that the stacks were firm and solid. Arilag tested the integrity of each stack, standing on them as they finished each one.


One time, she stepped on a loose rock and fell. Tindig dashed to her side and caught her before she hit the ground. He panicked. He didn’t know whether to let her sit, let her stand, or let her go. His arms ached but he didn’t care… much.


“You’re getting sweat on my face,” she said.


He set her on her feet. “Oh,” he said, wiping his sweaty forehead off. “Sorry.”


“Come on, we’ve got ways to go.”


They built their stone stairs for the remainder of that day, and the day after that, and the day after that, waiting for the rocks to fall so they can add it to the stacks.


On the sixth day, Tindig climbed the stairs.


“You go,” said Arilag. “You’re taller than me. You can reach the top quicker than I can.”


“Okay.” Tindig tried to sound confident, but his voice shook. He didn’t like heights that much. Regardless, he put one foot ahead of another in scaling the stones towards the white sky.


When he stood on the tallest stack, Tindig extended his arms upwards, grasping nothing but air.


“Not enough?” Arilag asked.


“A little bit more, I think.” But Tindig could feel it. He was near, only a few inches more. If only…


He reached up to his fullest extent, and he jumped. The very tip of his middle finger reached the border. It felt soft and thin, like well-tendered cloth, all but for a second. But he forgot one crucial detail.


His foot slipped, and the stack he stood on grumbled and began to collapse.


“GET OUT OF THERE!” shouted Arilag. That was exactly what Tindig planned on doing. He ran downwards, but the rocks skidded from underneath his feet and the stone stairs fell. Luckily, they didn’t fall on him, but some rocks scratched his knee and the wound opened again. That’ll take some time to heal. It didn’t hurt much though.


He was panting when he reached the ground, hands on his knees. “I touched it.”


“What?” She curled her brows.


Tindig pointed up. “I touched the sky.”


On the seventh day, the two of them decided they deserved a break. So, they rested and slept for most of it. The rocks went untouched. Still, the rocks kept falling from above, wherever they came from.


On the eighth and ninth day, they rebuilt the stone stairs. Eventually, they added three more stacks.


“That’s enough, I think.” Tindig remarked.


Arilag poked his forehead. “Just don’t mess it up again.” She looked at the wound on Tindig’s knee concerningly. “We have to clean that up when we get out of this place.”


On the tenth day, Tindig climbed the stone stairs. He didn’t want to though. Every time he stepped on a higher stack, his stomach churned, and it seemed like the whiteness all around him swirled.


When he reached the summit, Tindig stretched his arms out, and there, finally, he was able to grasp the fabric above. “I HAVE IT!” he shouted.


“THAT’S GREAT!” Arilag replied. “NOW WHAT?”


“Um…” Tindig hadn’t thought that far ahead. Come to think of it, this was all Arilag’s idea. “YOU TELL ME!”


Below him, Arilag walked around, going in a complete circle. Then she shrugged. The distance between them made Tindig want to puke, but he kept it in.


He looked above again, observing the fabric. He held it in his hands. So soft, so delicate. It was pure white and made of a material Tindig was unfamiliar with. It looked sacred, like it was supposed to be preserved. Silly Tindig, he heard his father’s voice again. Remember who you are. You are an engkanto. You have no place to alter fate.


He did the only thing he thought he could do. The only thing he wanted to do. He pulled the fabric apart.


***


The sky opened, then it hardened. An intense beam of light blinded Tindig for a second, late to realize that it was just the sun. He couldn’t shield his eyes, because on both his hands he held the severed sides of a bamboo tree.


Beside him, Arilag slept on one side of the tree’s trunk. Tindig stepped forward, outside of the bamboo. Comfort filled his body as his feet landed on the lush soft grass. It was the first time in his life that he didn’t need to extend to see above grass blades. This’ll take some time to get used to.


“Hello,” the brown bird greeted them, perched on a small branch. The bird looked smaller than how Tindig remembered. The forest was smaller too. No, not a forest. It looked more like a well-tended garden. Grass painted the ground in green, and beautifully rich trees lined the soil. Their leaves swayed with the calm whistling wind. Flowers bloomed on peaceful bushes. Behind them, Tindig heard the flowing of a tranquil river. Ahead, a lake shone in a crystal glow to embrace the breaking of dawn.


“You two look different. You look just like Him,” chirped the bird. “I hope my rocks helped.”


Tindig carried Arilag out of the tree and set her on a soft patch of grass. “That was you?”


“Who do you think it was?” the bird remarked sarcastically. “If you’ll excuse me. I have to go speak with my dad.”


“Wait,” said Tindig. “Why did you help us?”


Why?” the bird replied. For a moment, Tindig could see a small sly smile form on his face. “Because when the time comes, I’ll have to ask both of you a favor.”


As the bird left, something stirred on the grass. “Where are we?” asked Arilag. She woke slowly, scratching her eyes as she sat. Her body had completed its change, same as his. They were taller, much, much taller. Their pointed noses were now flatter, and their pointed ears now rounder.


“I don’t know,” spoke Tindig.


“Do you know anything?”


“Does it matter?”


Arilag laughed. “Guess not,” she said, hugging Tindig. He could feel blood rushing to his cheeks. Red blood, he noticed his wounded knee.


And so they sat there in their own newfound paradise, welcomed by the sun. The world had ended, and it has begun anew. For the first time in days, they were both at peace.


But then Tindig stood.


“Where are you going?” Arilag asked.


“I have to go find your sister,” he answered. “And my brother.”




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