Flash Fiction

The Portal

The portal was open. That, in and of itself, was not significant. That it did not open to Grace Point was. For all recorded history, the portal always opened on the longest day. Always a door to Grace Point. The elders showed no sign of surprise, pretending instead that they had expected it. I knew different. I could smell their fear.

The elders conferred in private, discussing the future of the colony. Their birthing charts were for naught if Grace Point was inaccessible. I knew what it meant. Others were content to leave it to the elders, ignore the portal and continue with their lives minus the Baqua. I, for one, was not content. After twenty winters, I had finally come of age. My time had come and I knew I was listed twice on the charts. My chance at bliss faded with the portal's failure.

Turan stood next to me, her light pink silks barely moving in the stagnant air. Like me, she had come of age and desired the Baqua above all things. I knew what she was thinking as she looked at the path the portal revealed, traveling through some unknown forest without any signs of human habitation. Might the path lead to a Baqua?

The risks would be great if the path led nowhere and the portal closed. In the past, the portal stayed open from sunrise to sunrise. Then again, it had always opened to Grace Point. The rules had changed.

"Come with me, Quin," Turan said. She had made up her mind. Her smile was so endearing, always ruining logic. I looked at the portal, the path and then back to Turan. Damn those blue eyes.

"Yes," I replied. I would violate the elder's decree. I would wrestle a bear and bleed out to see that smile. Turan took my hand, leading me through the portal with confidence. A brief dizziness followed by slight temperature change was the only sign we had crossed. I turned to see Yarddon Parish situated comfortable on the other side. Turan smiled, I followed. We headed down the trail.

It was many hours before we realized the trail circled. We had seen no sign of Grace Point or any other colony, if others existed at all. We arrived back at the portal before the sun had set, well before its normal closing. My heart dropped to find it closed. History was broken.

"We are doomed," I said. There would be no Baqua this year, and for us, none ever. I followed a smile that had led me to my death. My seed line would end. I failed my ancestors, Yarddon Parish, and myself.

"We can hunt," Turan smiled, "we can build. There's water and most likely fish in that stream we crossed." I ignored her smile. It had only brought me death. My whole line dies with me. She thought of only a trivial life. One of only existence.

"We have failed," I informed her, "our lines will die. There will be no Baqua for us today or in the future." I dropped my eyes to the ground. My ass soon followed as I sat hard next to the closed portal. My only link to yesterday.

"Aye," Turan agreed, "Our lines may die." She sat next to me, closer than a woman should. "We need not forgo Baqua." Her hand covered mine. The softness was enchanting. I could not pull my hand away as I should. Our colors were too close. The elders designated us for Baqua for that reason. I looked up into her pools of blue.

"It would violate everything we know," I stuttered. My body did not agree with my words. I knew it to be wrong, but her hand was too soft. Her lips too red. Her eyes too blue. Damn that smile.

"I care not for rules," Turan said, "I have prayed to mix with you." She pulled my hand to her breast and tucked it under, holding it there. "Ohma has heard my prayers. He has given you to me."

"You broke the portal?" I asked. My hand was so warm. Heat was rising everywhere. Tales of Baqua broke from my memories, teasing me.

"I have fixed it," Turan smiled. My heart sped up. She was beguiling me. I knew I should run. I could not. She let go of my hand and let if fall to her lap. I stared as it lay upon her silk covered thigh. She should not be so close. Nobody warned me women smelled so good. "We will have our own Baqua." She reached up and dropped her silks off her shoulders. They floated down, exposing parts I shouldn't see. The beauty amazed me. My hand was back in hers, floating upward toward her breast. I did not want to fight it. Weakness had swallowed me.