-O-
The old man awoke in his bed to the sound of birds hailing the morning light. As his eyes opened he looked up at the sky above him. A sea of dark blue swirled in the sky, chased by the sun’s rays peering through the scattered clouds that streamed quickly above him. Slowly, he swung his feet over the side of the bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he felt the warm stone beneath him.
“Courtyard.” he mumbled, standing up and stretching for a moment as the room around him transformed into a garden courtyard with brilliant white cobble stones. He checked a small plant growing along the wall, turning its leaves and smelling his fingers. “Water this please.” he said aloud, turning and picking a few leaves from a nearby plant.
“Kitchen.” he said, waiting as the room transformed again into a kitchen with all the necessary appliances. He placed the leaves into a small tin, turning on a stove and setting a kettle upon it. “Fill.” he muttered, closing the lid on the tea tin. After a moment the kettle had filled with water, which was already almost at a boil. He placed the tin in the kettle and turned the heat down. A group of children ran by his home, their images blurring by as he sat down on a small chair by the window.
“Today.” said the old man, picking up a small piece of wood and a knife from the basket beside him.
“Today is Tuesday the third of October, 2322.” replied the computer.
“Weather.” he said, running his fingers across the smooth cherry wood in his hands.
“Current temperature is 54 degrees. Wind blowing at two kilometers per hour from the north north east. Chance of precipitation, less than one percent.”
“Schedule.” he said, slowly running the blade across the wood, creating tiny curls that fell softly to the floor.
“In fifteen minutes and 28 seconds, you have a class that will run for two hours, after that you have no other obligations. In three days you have a delivery due.”
“Classroom.” he said, placing the wood and knife back in the basket and standing up.
The room transformed again, this time it became void of color and objects. Just blank white walls and a small chair that sat near the center of the room. He stepped to the center of the room and gripped the chair.
“Online.” he said, taking a seat in the chair and watching as a visual haze filled the room, the walls and floors glowing with slight irregularity as the connection was made.
“You are connected.” said the computer.
Suddenly a small girl flashed into the room, reaching over and touching her toes.
“Good morning Leila.” said the old man.
The young girl shot up, startled by her teacher.
“Good morning Mr. Hettle.” she said, smiling and doing a small bow.
“I’m surprised to see you in class so early.” he said, “Is everything alright?”
She looked down for a moment, biting her lip as she stared at the flickering image of the old man.
“My parents have been fighting a lot. I don’t know what to do, all the things they talk about don’t seem to make any sense to me.” She said nervously. She looked up at him, her eyes steady on his, awaiting some sort of relief from his words. Mr. Hettle leaned forward, thinking for a moment before speaking.
“Adults have the tendency to wrap themselves up with worries that aren’t real.” he said, “They create ideas in their minds and trick themselves into believing in things that do not matter. They have let their minds become cloudy and turbulent.”
She looked at him with concern in her eyes, raising her arm for a moment before setting it back beside her and taking a seat on the ground. “I don’t thin-” she started, suddenly interrupted by another connection flash. A young boy appeared in the room, running forward and landing a backflip before them. “Good morning all!” he exclaimed happily.
Mr. Hettle laughed to himself. “Good morning Devon!” He said, holding back his urge to beam at the child. “We’ll talk more later.” he said, glancing over at Leila, who nodded and smiled briefly.
Over the next few minutes the rest of the class appeared in the room. Finally sixteen young people sat around the pedestal looking over at the old man they called teacher. He stood up, as did they, and began doing stretches and warm ups, getting their bodies ready for the day. After a half hour had passed he pushed his chair aside and sat on the ground, folding his legs beneath him. The class followed suit, quietly taking this new position and letting their muscles rest.
“Now, let us meditate.” he whispered, closing his eyes and relaxing his back.
The class did the same, one after another getting relaxed and settling into their position. They sat like this in silence for some time, letting themse wander in the magical world of their own minds.
“Attention citizens.” said a womans voice. The voice broke out across the entire city, echoing through all the rooms it held. “The city is under alpha alert eight. This is not a test. I repeat, alpha alert eight. Please return to your homes. This message will repeat.” The children looked at the people within their own homes, some nodding briefly to their teacher, others disappearing without warning.
“What’s happening?” asked Leila.
“I don’t know.” replied Mr. Hettle, “Does everyone have someone home with them?” The ones who remained in the room shook their heads no.
“Just stay in your rooms and wait until your guardians return, I will stay online in case you need me.” The old man stood up and walked over to the window looking out at the vacant street. He tried to block out the voice repeating the message across the city. Slowly other students signed out of the chat room until only Leila was left.
“Mr. Hettle?”
He turned and looked at the young girl sitting semi-transparent on the floor.
“Yes, Leila?” he replied.
“Was it like this when you were a child?” she asked.
He looked back out the window, trying to count the soldiers passing by. “I will tell you my story.” he said, watching as groups of people were escorted to their homes, “but you must be prepared for things that are not nice. Things that will make you cringe and think of our lives in a different way.”
“Please, tell me.” she said, quietly.
He turned from the window and started towards the corner of the room. “ADD KITCHEN.” he said loudly, smiling at Liela for a moment as his kitchen materialized before them. “Alright.” he said quietly, “but first...” He walked over to his tea kettle, pulling two small cups from a cabinet on the wall. “Would you like some?” he asked without turning around. “Yes please.” replied Leila, watching the old man pour the tea. He picked up one of the cups of tea gently, setting it on a small metallic counter along the wall. “Send to Leila Strongro.” he said, watching as the cup vanished before him.
“Thank you Mr. Hettle.” said Leila, moving across the room and picking up the tea from a similar metallic counter. They sat for a moment in silence, sipping on the tea. Listening to the sound of feet passing their homes every so often.
“When I was a baby...” said the old man suddenly, “Much, much younger than you...”
Leila leaned forward, holding her cup of tea steadily before her face. “I left the last of the ancient cities, escaping with my mother and father into the wilderness. Back then, people were spread out across the land, they did not all live behind the giant walls of the city. Tribes of people held different places, each with their own special understanding of light.”
Liela squinted for a moment, not quite understanding what her teacher meant by, light.
“Things are not as they seem, here in the city.” he continued, “ The world is much more magical”
He looked down at the device allowing them to communicate. “These machines that let us see each other like this... they are not magical. They are simply machines. There was a time when the world wasn’t filled with all this technology. A much simpler world. But over time people became poisoned by materials and power. Eventually these people became completely blinded by their own visions and sought to destroy everything that opposed their will.” He paused as another squad of soldiers moved past his home.
“This led the people of the world to be divided.” He continued, “ To see each other as lesser beings. This caused people to fight and kill. To hate and despise. To be filled with jealousy and spite. As time went on, people forgot the lights of the world and turned to science. They learned mathematics. They studied the world and began to find new ways to manipulate the world around them. Evil men used the newly obtained knowledge to get the upper hand over others. First, they created computers, and began to understand the way pure energy flows. Then, they created weapons, using this new technology. The time had come to represent a world of war. The level of corruption and hate that filled the world had finally become too much. The sky lit up like a million suns and burned away what was left of the world. All that remained were the ones who controlled the sky and it was those same people who erected this stone city.”
He closed his eyes and thought for a moment. Slowly running his fingers over a small mark, lost in the wrinkled skin that covered his knuckles. Leila cringed, shuttering as an explosion rocked through the city. “Are you ok?” asked the old man, starting to stand up as her image flickered. “I’m fine.” replied Leila, looking quietly towards her front door. She hoped that her parents would burst through and hold her in their arms. “Please...tell me your story.” She said, looking back at her teacher.
The old man sat down slowly, listening carefully to the city around them. “Alright.” he said, sipping on his tea and reaching for a small wooden pipe. “When I was a baby...” he began, filling his pipe and lighting it, “I left a place called Coast city with my mother and father.” He puffed on his pipe slowly, watching the smoke drift from his lips. “It was the last city.” he said, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. “The last city in the whole world.”