Flash Fiction: The Beacon

This year, Durgt led the lighting of the mountain beacons and failed. Chosen as the new leader, he was the one who should have ensured the lighting of the beacons and our safety for another year. But he failed. He died. And, with him, died the fire. For the first time in five hundred winters the beacons were not lit. And with our failure the darkness and the shadows therein returned from the mountain. But we are a practical people.

We tried to ready more torches and send others, but by the time the oils were readied and the incense gathered, we were too late. Night was falling and we could already see the dark cloud descending. A small company went to light what beacons they could. We watched the lights of the torches as they travelled up the steep slope. Soon three beacons were lit. Then seven; and we found our hearts daring to hope. At last nine of the fifteen beacons were lit. But the cloud crept down the slope and then, as one, the beacons were snuffed.

We waited by the outer wall of the town for the torchbearers to return, but they did not. So the men gathered what weapons they could and waited for the shadows to come.

Our first line of defence fell on the first day. Then the outer barricades. We dared not bury the dead. We dared not go out into the shadow. We gathered what wood or wooden furniture we could and clustered to the one fire still alive in the centre of the town. Then we took up arms once all the men were slain. As I said, we are a practical people, but also a hard-headed people.

We put on our best white dresses; the ones we wore for the Light festival. We twined flowers in our hair. We readied the last of the shot and powder. We gathered what weapons we could, even kitchen knives. We kissed the children and those to old to fight and lit our torches at the last fire. These we carried outside along with the hand-me-down flintlocks we still had at our disposal. Then we waited for the shadows and the darkness to come. We waited to fight. We waited to die. We waited for the light.

These we carried outside along with the hand-me-down flintlocks...