The Illumination

Chapter 2: The Dark Cave

She had been told all about him; who he was and who they hoped he would become. Grandiose stories bordering on the make-believe had been her staple diet since she could talk. Fables and mystery weaved for the purpose of creating a God. Although she believed many of the ancient tales, she couldn't quite invest her belief in this current one. He wasn't even raw. If he'd had that urgent, incessant, medieval energy that bounded out from every look and gesture, then she could understand it. But this one was a prisoner; closed off, weak. She was disappointed in both him and her superiors, but still she kept vigilant. Every move was noted and behaviour reported. This target was kept under surveillance for his safety.

Watching him move towards the pier, she sent through the half-hourly report on email from her phone. All was quiet. It was always bloody quiet. She sighed.

**

Thame had always felt he was special, born for some great act. Throughout his youth he'd been different. Whether it was his name; his childhood food intolerances that meant he never had what the other kids had at school; or, more positively, his ability in sports and natural athleticism; there was something that made him stand out. This had fostered a self-conscious complex in him that couldn't be shaken off: a worry that his life would end up petering out into an average blur with no highs, no lows and no legacy. 

The special life he'd been gifted, with all its potential, would amount to little more than the light irritation of a mildly inflamed ear, a niggle he couldn't quite reach to scratch. Yet now that he was here in a new city, with a better job, it must surely be time to act. This new world was his oyster, right? So people said.

Standing at the end of the city pier, he could look back on this new world of possibility. It was a sunny day, the long wooden pier stretching out into the ocean, old and new combined. Its woodcut history was a story or, more importantly, a legacy of by-gone years. To the left, the sun pulled Thame's gaze back to the land from where he'd come. Here the city sat in all its darkness and light, underlined by the florescent highlighter-pen stroke of yellow beach. From this angle he could see the garish neon bulbs of the amusement arcades still visible in the daylight, roller coasters and, far off, a housing strip. Nothing struck him as special. The only thing equalling the blandness of the city was Thame himself. Wearing beige shorts, sporty flip-flops and a white t-shirt he could be any other citizen enjoying the warm summer. Facially he wasn't handsome or ugly. Standing at 5, 10 with muddy-blond hair and not so much as a scar to give him an edge, he couldn't look more ordinary. Yet his mind told him otherwise. 

Even on this small scale, Thame felt aware of nature's power. With its strength safely contained in the placid bay, he felt calm, the sunlight roller-painting the water with a golden halo as it splattered the pier's wooden pillars. But this position was dangerous. Out away from the land ruled and controlled by hostile occupancy, he could more clearly hear his own intuition. His mental spokesman told him things: yearning for a life that couldn't ever exist. There is no running from one's own mind. Thame came out here a lot, the one place he could hear his soul's counsel. Away from the hidden face of the ruling epoch telling him what we wanted and far from friends' and family's opinions; out here he felt he could find clarity. But today his intuition had been packaged away, bubble-wrap protecting his fragile, precious gift. The whips and coils of the wind sped past his ears with whistles, howls and wails. He was sure he could hear it speaking to him - Nature, God or both trying to advise him on his next step. Could he be bound for something great after all?

But this time he couldn't make it out. All he could hear was the constant chanting of his mind telling him what he already knew. He didn't want ordinary. He was special, talented - born for a greatness that would always be remembered. Yet here, with voices he didn't understand, he still felt at ease. These voices were his friends. At Nature's gateway he no longer felt that strange, inconceivable loneliness, a physical aching in his bones.