The Penumbra Paradox - ONC 2023

Prologue

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PROLOGUE:-
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It must've been 87 years since the beginning of the end, that is if anyone had been able to count days apart from nights.

All that was left on the face of the world was a bunch of barren wastelands, submerged cities, acid rains, ash clouds and spewing volcanoes.

The chieftain dragged his feet in the white sands of Zoramaic dunes, seeking an oasis in the middle of nowhere, hoping that the almighty Sinukhi wouldn't betray him by showing another mirage in the name of water, not atleast after pitying his barely alive eight year old son. He yanked a coir rope tied to a metal piece of the old world, carrying his only remaining hope, his son - Hayal.

Ashen clouds in the sky danced wildly, with frequent peek of golden red rays from the sun, the only way anybody could say it was daylight. Dunes shifted with the blowing wind rapidly, changing the landscape by every passing minute.

Since a decade now, the moon stayed all through the day, eclipsing the sun every few hours, its shadow so vast that it wrapped half of the world in an evanescent darkness.

A strange reflection over the horizon made the chieftain's eyes squint. Just another mirage or so he thought, that was until he felt the earth tremble beneath his feet.

Finally the Sinukhi had answered the chieftain's prayers. He fell to his knees, bending over and chanting in a low hush.

A couple of sandy heaps and dunes away stood a huge pitch dark sphere, so dark it absorbed every remaining speck of light around it. Mirror like, yet there escaped no reflection from it. Its surface morphed in waves, geometric patterns appearing and disappearing, sending a rumble of vibration through the sand underneath it.

The chieftain wrapped the half awake little boy who was fastened to the metal scrap with his arms and ran towards the strange sphere, his legs shuffling and shaking with weakness.

He laid his son in front of the weird sphere and prayed. All his life he had heard stories of the old world and the legends of the order of Sinukhi. He had seen the murals and paintings of these weird spheres in the codex and the temple back home.

But now the chieftain and his son hadn't eaten in weeks and had seen no drop of  water for days. His son was half dead, his lips were dry and peeled, eyes sunken, drowned in his own pool of sweat.

There was nothing left to believe in other than the miracle of Sinukhi himself. Sure his oracles were true, or else why would they etch it on the codex? Why would they follow his creed?

The world need not remain in darkness anymore. Afterall there was a saviour, even for the sinners like him, atleast that was what his father had always told him.

The time had come to bestow on his son, his own life as a blessing. "The oracle of Sinukhi is the truth, may his blessings be upon you, little one. Remember me."

The sphere morphed, this time gently. A triangular blue light appeared on its surface. The sphere opened creating a triangular empty dark doorway.

With the last of his remaining strength the chieftain picked up the child, pecked a kiss on his forehead and placed him inside the sphere and stepped back only to fall on his knees into the sand.

The sphere blinked, its geometric pattern reappeared for a fraction of second and then turned translucent. Within a few more seconds, the giant sphere was gone, vanishing into thin air.

The chieftain heaved a sigh of relief. As if to add to the solace, the sky flashed filling Zoramaic dunes with thunder and pouring acid rain through ash clouds. Chieftain's skin stung through the perforated old coat, eyes burned. But that was oddly satisfying for him, he deserved that, didn't he? Sinners had to pay, he had to pay for his deceased tribe.

"But my boy need not." He thought, "let him live, lead him to the light."

Through the grey clouds and flashing lightstorm, he saw the moon starting to veil the sun, that was another eclipse just in the span of a day. Its craters appeared gigantic and deep.

"It's time." He mumbled, Sinukhi's judgement had arrived. He might not live to see it, but his son would. Hayal would wake up to a new dawn of civilization or atleast that's what the chieftain hoped.

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Wc -752
Thank you for spending your precious time on this novella, I can only hope that I made it worth while for you.