The (Abridged) Absence of Complete Dark

Chapter 1

Love: an ever-present presence, managing to weave its way through multiple facets of society.

Love, that which most accept readily; that which eludes a select few.

For many people, love– in all its forms– is the driving force behind the actions they pursue in their daily lives. Love from a family member, a close friend, a significant other, or even someone encountered in passing is often the push one needs to continue on with their day. In this way, it is not farfetched to say that love is what makes their lives worth continuing.

However, in the land of Basodin, love is even more essential; for without it, one will truly not survive.

In this world, as long as one is loved– whether that be from a romantic partner, familial figure, a friend, or anyone else– life continues on; with the power of love, one is protected from any strange maladies that would otherwise afflict them. It had been this way since the creation of this world: whenever a person did not receive any sort of love, the mysterious entity known as the Dark would latch on to them. The Dark, which everyone was familiar with from a young age due to school curriculum, is able to ravage the body of a person in many different ways; whether through physical decline or mental unrest, the affliction seems to always begin in that telltale way: the gradual decline of one's sight, starting as a dimming of light before progressing into complete sightlessness, and compounding with other maladies. Without intervention, everyone who is permanently afflicted by the Dark dies young.

If one were to never feel any type of love, the Dark would probably consume them completely over a span of fifteen years. However, as long as a person has not reached Complete Dark– a state where they are unable to perceive the world around them in any capacity– the affliction is not permanent, and can be fought; mitigated completely, even, if that person feels enough love.

None of the residents of Basodin knew why this was, or how the Dark came to be, but the popular hypothesis was that it was because the world itself– according to the legends of its creation– was composed with the love of its creator: the Mother, an otherworldly goddess of a woman, spoken of in ancient mythology with words full of both admiration and awe. With a world literally made of love, it felt logical that feeling such an emotion would be imperative for the people who inhabited it. This, however, did not make life easier for the Basodinians that knew they were not receiving love, for there would always be that looming fear that someday, at some time, the Dark would find them.

The Dark is a complex force, though, and rarely– very rarely– it appears to miss people; those who know they should have been afflicted a long time ago, but continue to live their lives as normal. Although this may sound like one at first, this is widely regarded as less of a benefit and more of a burden. For, what becomes of those people who are expecting the Dark to come for them, existing in a way that precedes the affliction of the Dark?

Will it come gradually? All at once? Or never at all?

And, in the meantime, how would a person in this position handle life?

***

"Oh, Mother! Girl! You have to tell me how it went!"

A long, pointed sigh of disappointment drifted through the air, followed quickly by the sounds of the bedsheets shifting as Yidarica turned from her stomach to her back. Yes, she would have to tell her best friend how everything had gone, wouldn't she? And that was the entire problem.

"What's with the sigh? Was it that bad?"

The two women had known each other for about four years now, having met at a shared interest gathering related to fashion. Four years was not a long time, in the grand scheme of everything, but even so, it had been enough time for Gracia to become the sole person that Yidarica could confide in; and over that amount of time, there had been a lot to confess, so the two were familiar with each other's mannerisms by now. The ever-so-familiar, drawn-out sigh meant that there was certainly bad news on the horizon.