A New Beginning 9

Tanara stared at the sea of pale faces gazing up at her. Nervously she gulped heavily and took another step up towards the makeshift podium. The stone walls curving overhead were giving her a bit of claustrophobia. Tanara was used to the trees swaying above her, their leaves shielding her small body, and the sky above the leaves shining light down onto her dark skin. Down here, underground, the only lights were torches in the cold granite walls.

All the pairs of crystal blue eyes followed her sun-darkened body as she stood on the small stage. Tanara took a deep breath and raised her hands towards the ceiling, bringing them down and together in the form of a prayer.

"It has begun," she said softly. Her quiet voice echoed in the chamber, reverberating off the stone and ringing in her audience's ears. Murmurs arose at the words she spoke, pale white heads bobbing up and down. "The prophecies told us that this day would come, and it has. Now we wait."

Up above ground, in Tanara's world under the sun, the dark clouds had begun. Like smoke they settled in the sky, blocking out the light. Rain fell, but not rain of water. A rain of ashes that covered the plant life with a thick coat of dust. Without the sun to nourish and feed the plants, they had begun to die. Slowly the small plants withered, and then the larger ones, until even the trees had begun to shed their protective leafs.

Tanara's clan had been forced to leave their home, the land they had inhabited for hundreds of thousands of generations. Leaving the surface, they had followed their cousins, those who had burrowed homes in the underground many centuries ago.

Stepping down from the podium, Tanara tried not to hear the snickers filling the chamber. Their people, the Burrowers as they called themselves, had believed all along that the world above would turn on the others, and destroy those who lived above the ground. Tanara had ignored the prophecies, as all her people had, and now they had begun to die. Without the sun, without the fresh air and trees and plant life that had once thrived above, Tanara and her people could not be content. Already many were choosing to leave their new homes under the surface and venture out again. The ash storms were so terrible now that the ones who left could only be heard screaming as the doors shut behind them.

A male returned to his place at the podium, in front of the throng, and shushed them. Soon he was back to preaching the faith, telling the people to trust in the goddess, that everything was going according to divine plan. Tanara's eyes lifted up towards the dark ceiling, hardly visible due to the dim light. Blinking back tears, she walked down the steps and off the stage, finding her way through the few people gathered at the sides of the stage and finding another corridor.

"Do you believe it?"

Tanara hadn't even felt the air move around her. A Burrower brushed up against her back, circling around her trim frame to face her. His skin was white almost to the point of transparency, his pale blue eyes like the clearest water Tanara had ever seen.

"I don't know what to believe anymore," Tanara whispered, breaking the eye contact the male in front of her had captured. She lowered her head and tried to move aside, but he moved with her, his body still pressed close to hers.

"They say that it will never be the same," he said. His deep voice was quiet, and something soft about it caused it not to bounce of the walls as Tanara's higher pitched voice did. She looked back at him, her brown eyes cold.

"They say a lot of things," she said. "I hope and pray that the world will return, that the plants will grow again and that the sun will shine again. Even if I do not live to see it."

"Do you mean that it will take that many centuries to clear up, or are you planning to join the ones who have left our protection?"

"There are only so many years a creature could spend down here and remain sensible," Tanara sighed, looking about her. The walls seemed to close in on her as she thought about it, and she shut her eyes tight. When she opened them again, the male was staring straight into her eyes, his piercing gaze seeming to dig into her soul.

"You live longer down here, you know," the male said, again moving with her body as Tanara shifted. "I am already two hundred and three seasons old. How long would you live up there? Seventy five?"

"It is not life, down here," Tanara said, her eyes blurring with fresh tears. "We are blocked in by these walls. The stone does not bend like the world above. It is cold, it is dim, and it is nothing compared to the world above!"

"You speak about it with much passion." He stepped away from her, allowing Tanara to gather her senses again. She stepped away as well and looked at him from the short distance. He was dressed as all the Burrowers were, in plain white clothes that draped off of his thin frame. He looked sickly, to Tanara, who was used to her own clan's dark skin and hair, dark eyes and broad bodies.

"I feel much passion for it," she said, putting her hand against the cold wall. "I get frightened when I think that I may not see it again."

"Never having seen the open world, I cannot comprehend what you are feeling. I wish that I could."

"I am sorry," Tanara said, her voice filled with sympathy. "It is wonderful up there. Or, it was. Maybe it isn't now, but not long ago it was wonderful."

"I would like to hear about it, some time," the male said, smiling slightly. His pale lips curled upwards, his eyes losing a little of their cool glare and almost looking animated instead of like cold stone. "The only tales we hear are about the people, how they chose to live against the prophecy, and how they would be punished. Children underneath aren't taught about the passion that your people have for the surface."

Tanara looked the male up and down suspiciously. She feared for a moment that he might be one of the Burrowers prejudiced against her people, that he might be singling her out for violence. It had been known to happen, both ways around. But something in his light face seemed to argue with her brief fears, and she tried to relax. He wanted to know about her world, and she wanted to remember. Perhaps venting some of her emotions to another being would make her feel a bit less empty, more sure of herself and her new way of life. It could be the first step to acceptance, the acceptance of the new way, the new world, and the new group she would have to join.

"I would like to tell you," she paused, smiling faintly at him. "Perhaps I will some day."

Puzzlement flashed over the male's face momentarily. The Burrowers did not think of days and nights the way the surface people did. Tanara shook her head and spoke again.

"Another time," she said. "Why not now?" the male asked, his smile turning to a frown. "The ceremony upsets me," Tanara answered, her voice quivering. She wiped away a tear that had escaped from her eyes, the fluid stopped before it could trace a trail down her dark cheek. "I get sad when I think of what I've lost. Do you understand?"

"I do," the male answered, his own head drooping slightly. "I too have lost things dear to me. I am not a stranger to unhappiness. But it would give me joy if we could find comfort in each other."

"I fear that I will not find comfort," Tanara said sadly. "Comfort is a thing of the past. The future will only be cold and miserable."

"I'm sorry that you feel that way," the male said, his voice dropping and becoming heavy with sorrow. He looked at her through narrow eyes. "I happen to believe that there is always something to find comfort in, no matter how dire the situation seems. Without hope, we will perish. We must strive for happiness in something, to keep our spirits alive."

"You may be right," Tanara said reluctantly. "But I unfortunately do not feel that way now. Perhaps another time, but not now."

"Very well," the male said, taking a step away from her. "Another time, perhaps."

Tanara didn't even see him disappear into the shadows. The corridor was filled with many of them, the flames from the torches flickering, causing the shadows to dance about on the walls. He was gone and she was alone again, the only sound in the area her heart beating steadily in her chest. Taking a deep breath, filling her lungs with the stale air, she took a step and made her way towards her sleeping chambers.

The sleeping room Tanara had been given was some distance away from the main rooms. In her opinion, the Burrowers did not think she was worthy of sharing the luxury of their own apartments. It was understandable, as their sect of the race had despised her own since their break apart.

Long ago the Burrowers and her own people had lived as one. Instead of being pale and thin as they were now, the Burrowers had been dark. They had lived above ground together, taking shelter in the trees. Then the prophet had been born, and everything had changed.

It was written in the Burrower's scrolls that the prophet had had many visions, given to her by the goddess in the sky. Documents were written in the prophet's own words, descriptions of things to come and events yet to happen. The main vision was always the same, a rain of fire in the sky, a cloud of ash that blocked out the sun, and death in each breath of air that the people took. The prophet wrote that the only way the people would survive would be to go under the surface, to recreate their society and way of life without the sun. It would be generations before the rain, but enough time would follow it that the preparations would be more than worth the effort.

Some believed in the visions, and began their new ways of life in the caves, slowly digging their way down into the crust and breaking away from the rest of the people. The people who remained paid no heed to the warnings, going about their business for the generations to come. Each group had begun to loathe the other, but remained polite in the few meetings they had. Soon the meetings grew further apart, and each group found that they could live completely dependant of the other.

When the cloud arrived and the storms had started, the prophecies were brought up from the archives of the people's libraries. Lines were reread, descriptions analyzed again and again. It became obvious that the prophecy was coming true, and the Burrowers had made the correct decision.

Groups of Tanara's people had decided to go to the Burrowers, only to come back in defeat, turned down by the underground people. The Burrowers had believed in the goddess and her truth all along, and were disgusted that the people above would come to them when everything had turned around.

"They should have listened to us!" the preacher had shouted, earlier, before Tanara had taken the podium. "They came to us in defeat, their beliefs shattered. The goddess lives, and she lives under the surface!"

Finally select groups of the surface people had been permitted into the safety of the caverns. Months passed without any more contact with the above ground, and those who ventured out were not permitted back inside. The groups of surface people were asked to speak of the horrors above to groups of Burrowers, which was what Tanara had been doing earlier. The remembrance of the last few weeks of pain, the breaths of air that only coated her lungs with soot, always put Tanara in a saddened mood. It was no wonder that she could not find happiness or comfort in anything. How could she move on if she had to recall the horrors every week? Her people were gone, and she was alone in an underworld full of strangers.

A sudden flood of loneliness washed through her body, from the tips of her dark hair to the nails of her long fingers. She stretched her hands in front of her face and looked at them, critically. They were never going to feel the grass again. Tanara didn't know how she felt about that.

"Wait," she whispered into the blank nothingness of the caverns. "Come back…I want to talk."

He seemed to appear from nothing, to have formed from the dampness in the air, but he was standing in front of her again. His crystal eyes looked at her critically.

"I knew you would change your mind," he said, but not at all smug. "I can sense it about you, your loneliness. We need each other, you and I."

"What could you possibly have experienced that could compare to my pain?" Tanara snapped. "You still have your home, your people…my whole race is gone. I have nothing."

"I have lost those who I loved, and although it may not compare, I'm sure my grief is similar in some ways. You have lost your sun, I have lost mine as well."

"I'm sorry," Tanara said, feeling a bit contrite. "I didn't mean to belittle your pain. It's just that…I'm bitter, do you understand?"

The Burrower nodded, folding his arms in front of his chest in the way that the Burrowers did. Tanara thought that the position made them look as though they were hugging themselves for warmth, and she speculated that that might have been its origin.

"Can I take you somewhere?" he asked, softly.

Tanara looked into the dark cave of her sleeping quarters, her cold, lonely bed just beyond the stone entrance. She didn't want to go to it; it held no comfort for her tonight or any other night.

"Where?" she asked, tentatively.

"A place I go when I am sad," he said, his voice changing slightly. Tanara's sensitive ears picked up the lift in his light voice, heard the change from pain to a little bit of pleasure. The sound gave her hope, and she nodded.

"Then take me," she agreed, taking a small step towards the pale Burrower.

The Burrower took a few rapid steps through the darkness, and Tanara had to hurry to keep up with him. The people who lived in these caves had gotten used to the lights, and had a lot more confidence in their steps than she did.

A rock in the path collided with Tanara's foot, and she fell forward with such force that she barely had time to hold her hands out to catch her body before it hit the hard granite floor.

The Burrower stopped and looked over his shoulder, his brow wrinkled in concern.

"Are you alright?" he asked with his soft voice.

"Yes," Tanara said, pushing herself up to her knees. The Burrower stood still as stone, watching her as she brushed off her clothes, regaining her balance slowly. "You need to go slower, is all."

"You surface dwellers are clumsy," the male said, and Tanara thought she would have taken offense if his voice hadn't been so kind.

"We are trying to adapt," she said, shrugging. "Soon our children will be chasing your children down the corridors, just you wait and see."

"Children," the male murmured. "Do you think that our people will ever mingle our separated genes?"

"I hear my people saying that we must keep our blood pure for our return," Tanara confided softly. She cringed at the way her voice bounced off the stone walls. She wished for a voice more like the males, which seemed to roll out of his body and straight to her own.

"I'm sorry to hear that," the male said.

Tanara hadn't realized how close he was to her, his pale skin nearly touching hers. He was tall for his kind, but still only came to Tanara's shoulder. Tanara was short for her kind, but it made more sense for the Burrowers to be smaller, living underground as they did.

Taking a deep breath, Tanara made no effort to move away from him.

"Shall we continue?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered, and Tanara imagined that she heard a raspy eagerness in his gentle voice.

The Burrower reached his hand out towards Tanara, and she took it hesitantly. She didn't want to fall again, and here was the first offer of help she'd received from one of these people since she'd moved underground.

From the looks of their pale skin, Tanara had almost imagined that their flesh would be as cold as the granite rocks surrounding them, but instead it was as hot as fire. It felt as though the hottest flames had scorched her hands, but instead of burning in a bad way, it warmed her up inside and out. For the first time since she'd moved away from the life-giving sun, Tanara was truly warmed. A shudder passed through her body.

"Is something wrong?" The Burrower asked, pulling his hand away from hers. As their touch separated the cold flooded back through Tanara's body, and gasping, she grabbed for his hand again.

"No," she said. "Your skin…it is so warm."

Looking concerned, the Burrower touched Tanara's forehead with his other hand. "You are not cold," he said, the words rolling off his tongue.

"Not anymore," Tanara said, smiling sincerely at the male in front of her.

"I'm glad," he said, his voice even softer than usual. Hand clutching hers, he turned in the tunnel and began to lead her down the dark corridors once again, slower this time. Tanara wasn't frightened at all anymore, all of the uneasy feelings seemed to have vanished when he took her hand and warmed her body to the core. She was almost content to not have the sun's warmth beating on her back with this warmth washing through her body.

Ahead, Tanara heard the sound of water. As she followed the burrower, the sound got louder and louder, almost like thunder inside her ears, yet still they progressed through the stone. She followed him into a cloud of mist, the cold drops hitting her face but not damaging the warm feeling in her bones. She imagined that if she let go of his hand at this moment she would be unspeakably cold, but right now it was as comfortable as could be. They took a few more steps into the darkness, and Tanara thought she saw a light up ahead. Then he stopped. A waterfall flowed almost in front of them, its drops falling down the rock into a seemingly bottomless crevice in the rock. Around the fall the walls of the cave had broken away, leaving an empty room surrounding the gigantic flow of water. "Look down," the burrower whispered, his soft voice penetrating the thundering noise of the falls. Tanara tilted her head and looked into the bottomless pit, and gasped to see a glowing light. It wasn't light as she was used to, yellow light from the sun or red light from the flames of the underground. It was a blue light, one that a person could get from a crystal positioned just right in the sun, except the glare was so intense that it seemed to fill the entire cavern. Tanara raised her head again, and the light followed, flowing around her, illuminating everything she could see.

"What is this?" she whispered, for the first time her voice resembled the Burrowers, soft and smooth.

"They call it 'heavens light'," the Burrower said, still holding tight to Tanara's hand. "They say that it's the light of heaven showing through to us mortals for a few flashes of a moment, to remind us why we are down here and to reassure us that the path is true."

"It's amazing," Tanara said, her voice still soft and filled with awe.

"I imagine that it's like the suns light," the male said, looking away from the cavern and into Tanara's brown eyes. "Is it?"

"No," Tanara said, but at the moment she didn't care about the sun. She was happy to have found this peaceful light inside these caves. It gave her hope that all was not lost. The mist hit her face and cooled her body, although she hadn't been aware until just now that it was hot. Closing her eyes, she let the light penetrate her flesh, warming her like the rays of the yellow sun. Slowly, she moved her hand away from the Burrower, and smiled, as her body didn't lose the warmth he had given her.

"It is like the sun," she whispered, contradicting herself. "The sun warms you up inside, filling your bones with yellow warmth. It beats down on your back when you're playing, and tans your body when you lie on the grass. This is the closest thing I've ever felt to it…"

"I wish I could have felt the sun," the male whispered, his voice sad. Tanara opened her eyes again and looked at his pale body. His light pink lips were bent in a frown, his blue eyes sparkling with the reflection of the waterfall. "I feel its loss, even if I never saw its glory."