Light and Dark: Part 2

To know the dark is to know the deepest part of yourself. You can’t appreciate light’s beauty without understanding the dark’s ugliness. What light is in you is not completely of yourself, but neither is the dark. To know yourself is to know everything and everyone who came before you, and will live after you, all who possess light and dark. This means embracing the good and the bad, never shutting out one for the other. These are the things you will need to know as you go through life, Ursula. Never forget them.

Ursula closed the note and put it back into its worn envelope. She took a deep breath as she pressed the yellowed paper to her chest. It’d been ten years since she’d heard the voice of the letter’s author. Ten years had passed since he gave himself up so that she, his granddaughter, could get away. She tucked the envelope back into her bodice, the safest place for it. Always keeping it close reminded Ursula what he wanted her to know. That knowledge was the reason she still lived—why she kept fighting.

The Oppressors had ignored all the old man’s words and embraced the dark in place of the light. They knew darkness too well, and the Oppressed ignored it completely. But Ursula, she held onto both. She dared not let go of the light and become like those who destroyed her family, and she refused to ignore the dark for fear of becoming a victim.

“A lot of good that did me,” she scoffed. “The oppressed are outside with loved ones while I’m shut up in a forgotten storage room.”

Ursula leaned her head against the stone wall. One locked door and no windows—only darkness. She closed her eyes.

“If I can embrace the darkness here, I can do it anywhere.”

“I told you so.”

Ursula’s ears twitched at the sounds. She looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person who said it. “You’ve really lost it,” she said to herself. “There’s no one here.”

She lied down, knowing it was just her her mind playing tricks. Those words were what she knew Jason would’ve said if he could see her now, and she smirked to think of it. He’d told her the last mission was dangerous and that she wasn’t ready for it. He was right. She was caught and locked away. But still, the thought of Jason comforted her as it reminded her she was not alone anymore. Resistors were gathering, people who sought balance between light and dark, like she did. They would come for her—she just had to survive.

Five days later

Ursula opened her eyes again. Embracing both dark and light meant accepting her predicament and maintaining hope. She wished hand tools were lying around she could pry apart the wood door with, but she’d scouted the whole place twenty times by now. Her body was the only thing in the room. The walls were solid stone, and the floor was made of compact dirt.

But, it was a new day, meaning it was time to pace the room, building to a run, and leveling out to a trot, then slowing to a walk again. “Always moving,” Jason had said once. It was true, Ursula rarely sat or stayed in the same place for long. That’s why she was a field agent instead of a spy. She could always be on the move when she didn’t have to pretend to be content. Move. Maybe… the stone walls could move. After all, this place was old and the mortar between the stones might have loosened.

Ursula dug her feet into the floor and pushed on various points of the wall that she could reach. Her arms shook with each attempt to find a weak point. But the only weakness she found was her own. No one had come to her since she was locked up, meaning she’d had no food or water for five days, and Ursula’s strength failed her.

She refused to give up. She tested every inch of the wall. Once, her hands slipped, and the stone cut them as she fell down, slamming her jaw into the ground. Tears stung her eyes as her hands dripped. Ursula cradled her hands a moment, then stood again. She pushed her shoulder against the wall, refusing to let her minor injuries stop her from escaping. All she could think about was escaping and finding water.

She continued on for half a wall before a stone shifted. Adrenaline took over and she shoved with everything she had. Her feet dug deep into the dirt floor, turning to mud with her sweat. She pushed more still, her hands turning to mush. Ursula’s feet suddenly stopped, causing her hands to buckle. She fell to the floor, curled her feet in, and pushed out again, searching for relief from the spasms.

She squirmed in place for several minutes before reaching for the place where her feet failed her. Ursula’s sore muscles and torn hands forced involuntary groans and shouts as she felt hardwood buried below the dirt. She ran her hand across the surface and felt cool metal. she pulled up on it, revealing a smuggler’s hatch. It was a small hole, but Ursula figured if anyone could steal goods from here through that hole, she could fit. She reluctantly climbed in, hoping it led outside.

Claustrophobia was an unfamiliar feeling that became all too real as the fear of getting stuck and dying before reaching the surface plagued Ursula. Breathing became a struggle and tears drenched the dirt around her. She couldn’t stop them—specks of dirt burned the open wounds of her hands as she climbed. She closed her eyes. “Embrace the dark,” she whispered between sobs. “I’m here. Accept it.” The tunnel stopped going down and began moving up, giving Ursula hope, “I will get out. That’s the light.” She pushed through the tunnel’s deteriorated sides, forcing her way higher.

Something cold touched her shoulders, and Ursula stopped moving. She couldn’t decide if it was a worm, spider, or snake, but it did move. She ignored it and kept moving. “Embrace the dark,” she repeated a few more times. “The faster I move, the faster I can get away from whatever that is.” Peace surged through her and she whispered, “Now push toward the light.”

Minutes passed, and Ursula’s head hit a wall of dirt. Was she at the top? Why wasn’t there another door or a simple hole? Her chest tightened. There had to be a way out. She couldn’t be stuck here. She’d come too far. Ursula dug her nails into the dirt, clawing hard and fast. The ceiling began caving in, burying her. She stopped to brush the dirt from her nose and mouth, breathing in what air she could. What if she turned back now? Could she make it where there was unlimited air? Maybe someone would open the door, or she could try the wall again.

Ursula wriggled and squirmed and pushed. She couldn’t move. Hyperventilating, her tears choked her. She was stuck. Digging only made it worse. But, what else was she to do? She called out for help, hoping someone, anyone, even Oppressors, would hear. Her head beginning to spin, Ursula dug at the ceiling more, pushing the dirt from her mouth and nose every few seconds. She dug and scratched and pushed, but her body refused to move upward. With the collapsing ceiling, the hole got smaller.

A large clump of dirt fell at once, covering Ursula’s face and compacting her arms upright. She could feel the wind, but she couldn’t breathe in any of it. Unable to bend her arms, Ursula slowly began to suffocate, her tears caking the dirt around her eyes. This was never how she was supposed to die.

Her hands turned to pins and needles. She wiggled her fingers, but it only made them worse. Her legs numbed and her chest heaved, causing more dirt to fall through her nose, stinging inside. Ursula wished the end would come faster and relieve her pain.

She tried to think of someplace else, someplace peaceful as her last thought, but something like a thousand frozen knives raged through her arms, and she couldn’t find the air to scream. Her torso slid upward. The dirt over her mouth shifted so she could cough. Ursula’s ears twitched with high-toned vibrations. Her hands and arms roared once more as her body seemed to sprout wings and fly to the surface. Light broke through the dirt and her lungs struggled to catch the air.

After a few moments of painful chest compressions, awakening her nerves, Ursula was able to breathe on her own. She opened her eyes to see Jason and other Resistors kneeling around her head. Jason took her hand. “You’re safe now,” he said. “We’ve got you.” Ursula managed a smile before her eyes closed for a rejuvenating sleep.