Image source edited with Canva
Sweet scents of dewy flowers and plants entwined to form a sort of fence around our hut woke me up. No matter how deep my dreams might be, a wisp of the scent would have woken me up.
I slowly opened my eyes and with a smile on my face, I jumped up from bed, put on my flip-flops and sneakily stepped out of the hut.
I dared not wake mamma and papa. As their youngest, it was the culture to sleep in their hut until I was mature enough to share my sisters' hut. It seemed they'd forgotten I was almost a teenager and should move into my sisters' hut or better yet, I could convince papa to build me my hut. Selima and Ari would be jealous.
But first, I had to visit my dearest friend —the sun.
A tiny hue of orange light painted the puffy clouds, heralding the rise of the golden sun that would brighten the entire village for a few hours. Small birds flew around in twos, playfully chirping and enjoying the beauty of the warm light.
I knew other villagers would soon start to rise and go about their activities in the little time the sun shone before it became dark again.
Before I was born, It was always night in my village. Our elders would gather the children together under a ginormous neem tree in the centre of the village, a relaxation spot, and tell us tales of the curse that was laid on the village.
Our ancestors displeased the sun goddess and so the sun went into hiding longer than it should, giving us more of the night and less of the day. This caused bad harvests and a shortage of food supply. Our skins became lighter in complexion and many fell ill.
We could do little in the few hours of the day and when the sky darkened, we became lethargic and slept till the first light of the sun lit the sky.
But not me.
Ever since I was born I would awaken long before dawn when the sun should be out and cry till the sun came out. It wore my mamma out. When I was a toddler, as soon as the scents of the trees and flowers hit my nostrils, I knew the sun would soon be out. So I crawled out of our hut and stayed outside until the sun came out.
At one point, my parents locked their hut so I could not sneak out. A few days later I fell so ill my mamma feared she would lose me. She told me that my great-grandmother nursed me to health and confided in her that, "Light is freedom. Your child is a light, sent to make our land prosperous. Let her be free."
Mamma never tried to hold me back. When I could mumble words, I would welcome the sun every day with garbled songs.
Today felt different. I knew it. I woke up with excitement bubbling in me as I tiptoed out of my parents' hut.
I could sight the curved tip of the sun by the edge of the mountain, so faint yet so real, chasing away the lingering shadows of the night. It was like the sun wanted to play hide and seek with me. So I ran past huts, through the dewy forest until I was close to the hills.
I whirled around in a circle as my gown flowed around me, my heart full of songs that I wanted to sing all at once. I sang them one at a time, my voice loud and high, echoing and bouncing around the hills, as I serenaded the sun.
The sun slowly peeked out of its hiding place. Then I saw something extraordinary —a huge woman dressed in golden battle armour stepped out of the sun and hovered in front of me. I tipped my head up to look at her in wonder. She gave me a beautiful smile and took off her helmet. Her long hair streamed down her slim waist and shone bright like glittering silver.
I stood before a goddess!
"Do not be afraid, Omri. Your songs mirror the state of your heart and make me truly happy," she said.
"They do?"
"Yes, child," She responded but with a sly look I could not interpret. "For your musical offerings, I give your village respite from the curse."
Now, the look made sense to me. I bowed my head to the ground at once, remembering my manners. "Not respite, dear goddess. I want freedom for my people so we can enjoy the benefits of a full day's sunlight."
"Mmhmm," she mumbled thoughtfully for a moment. I glanced up and was caught in a fixed stare. I could not look away. Her eyes turned translucent and glowy. "Then you must come with me as a daughter of the sun. Do you accept?"
It was then I could disengage my eyes from hers. I loved my family and my village but I loved the sun more. So I nodded.
"Come, child. Let's go home."
She held my hand and I felt power like pure sun leaked through my veins as my skin bubbled with goosebumps. I shivered as a fresh breeze greeted me. I noticed the clouds were underneath my feet.
I turned quickly for one more glance at my village before the clouds closed behind us to form an impenetrable wall.
I hope you enjoyed reading this short story. It is my response to The Ink Well Prompt #89 inspired by the prompt "light".