Praised be the Light

Chapter 1

Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to jyothi89 ! Happy Birthday Jyothi!! May this year be wonderful! Hope you like this birthday present from me! :)
Thanks for being a constant support. Your dedication to writing is really inspirational and a source of motivation!! Keep writing!

Also, a special thanks to AnyaSharma97 for the awesome cover and helping me get out of almost a year long, writing hiatus on Wattpad!XD

He turned his shivering hands to see what was causing the pain. Black fluid ran down from between his palm like a tear. He touched his forehead with two fingers and held it against the light. It was as if he was bleeding ink. It was then that he realised there was something different about the shadows; they were far too direct for the morning sun.

He groaned. What was causing this inconvenience? He pushed his chair behind and waited in silence for an entirety of a minute, head bowed, back stooped, eyes closed. He didn't like inconveniences, not the ones that might threaten the routines he was used to. He hadn't had enough sleep the night before or the night before that and was in no need of another chain of events that he had no control over. He drew a deep breath before getting up. The chair creaked as it rubbed against the uncarpeted wooden floor. He slowly made his way towards the sink in the bathroom. A slightly cracked mirror greeted him with his face, which looked like that of a man in his thirties, but his eyes seemed older and tired. A black drop was slowly making his way down his forehead. He drew another sharp breath as he started washing his hands and face, watching the black fluid drain down the old sink.

He then moved towards the window and for a moment was blinded by the light that streamed through. He instinctively shielded his eyes and it took his pupils some time to adjust to the light.

The City didn't seem to have changed. Buildings of vastly varying heights met the skyline. They seemed to be from all eras, from 16th century churches to modern day skyscrapers. You wouldn't even be able to put a date on some of them unless you happened to be well versed with history of the city. On the surface it seemed like a good place to live, a comfortable shelter but a closer inspection proved otherwise. Cracks ran up the walls, the paint no longer stood the test of time. The people on the streets always seemed to have a worn out face, not weather worn, but one that conveyed dissatisfaction. The sparse trees seemed to have stooped with lack of care and age.

The City had no symmetry. The streets seemed to have been drawn out by an architect who had been paid less, and had drawn his plans under the influence of cheap alcohol, the kind you use to forget. Some buildings held charm, some held youth, while others reeked of deterioration. This ultimately led to the city being a concoction of themes and colors that aren't supposed to be together by the natural order of things. He remembered how a poet has once described the city as a drip painting. But that was only the most optimistic view of things. He recalled how another poet had called her poetry of the City, Deteriorum. Now that's what fit the image in his mind better.

The first thing that caught his eye was a beam of light passing through the centre of the city, or atleast what might be called the centre. Lack of symmetry made it difficult to pinpoint exact locations. The beam shot up from the sky with no start in sight and was at least a few meters wide. It seemed to have been made of pure white light. Occasionally strands of blue ran down like waves through a fast flowing river. The clouds seemed to have parted around it standing completely still instead of moving. It was as if the earth had stopped moving.

It did not concern him if it had, as long as it didn't interrupt his routines. It all seemed like a huge goddamn inconvenience if nothing else! He hadn't asked for this, he didn't need this.

A pang of pain hit his forehead making him crouch. He gritted his teeth as the pain subsided. He wanted no part of whatever this new phenomenon was. It was better if he was left out of it as far as he was concerned. He looked down at the street below, as expected hordes of people were walking towards the light, some had excited faces, while others seemed astonished, some were simply curious. He was curious too, but eventually apathy won over and he decided that this was perhaps the time and excuse he had all but been waiting for. Out of the unsettling commotion he saw a boy, about nine ten years of age, run down the street screaming. He didn't know why the child needed to scream, but he saw that he was doing his best to run towards the pillar of light. Most people didn't seem to take much note of him till the kid reached the circle of people that had gathered around the pillar of light. The kid just ran past all of them and entered the beam of light. His body sent disturbances up the ripple and was almost instantly lifted off the ground as if a geyser was pushing him off the ground and up into the air. His laughter could be heard loud and clear as he was being dragged up the current of light, he waved his arms and leg around as if it was a nice ride on an amusement park. He ran up the clouds till he was invisible to the people below, his laughter could still be heard for sometime as it slowly faded. Very gradually, the sound turned to silence. For a second the entire city seemed silent as everyone stood aghast. Soon murmuring broke out as more people gathered towards the beam.

No concern was felt by him, only repulsion for the stupidity the kid had just displayed. He had a whole life ahead of him and he chose to use it by jumping up unidentified beams of light. The repulsion soon turned to guilt as he thought that the kid might have wasted his life in other ways, like him. Perhaps it was a better decision to deal with the unknown. Another pang of pain passed though his head and he groaned audibly this time.

He had had it. His hand reached for the coat as he started rummaging around for little possessions that he had and stuffed them into a bag and turned to leave not only his house but also the city.