Aria Remains
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

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Emerging through and from the other side of the fence, Aria’s eyes were immediately drawn to the sky above her. It was still night, although it was not dark. An incalculably long stretch of intense green-yellow light met the horizon, with a layer of blue resting upon it, then pink and orange streaking through the stratosphere above that. She saw, in silhouette, a handful of dark clouds, while ascending over it all shone the stars, shimmering sequins sown into their blue-grey gown. A meteor streaked from her left, rampaging through the pillars of light before burning up, an enormous smoke trial in its wake.

Then came another.

Then another.

It was a beautiful, mesmerising scene and, for a moment, Aria forgot where she was and what was happening.

But, she thought, as the stars continued to shoot through the sky, irreversibly doomed to meet their providence, where actually was she? She bit her lip, wondering why it was she felt no fear, why it should be that not any degree of nervousness slipped through her. Instead she felt comforted, as though she had finally returned home. Yet this wasn’t home, it couldn’t be home. It wasn’t anywhere she had ever been before.

But what is home? What does it mean to be home? At home.

Home. Familiar. Elemental.

Had she been here before?

Her mind wandered, forging ahead, splintering in directions over which she had no command, the wheel spinning wildly.

Can a person feel lost at the same time as they are at home? If you can feel alone in a crowd then surely you can be a resident astray?

She lowered her eyes from the glorious firmament and, for the first time, inspected the tellurian scene around her. Her mind returned to her, greeting her with disconcertion as it attempted to register everything at once, what had preceded her arrival and what was to happen next.

Yes, she thought, I do recognise this place, although it is not somewhere I know nor remember ever having visited.

She began to walk forward, then thought to turn, to look back at the fence so she might gather her bearings, would know where to go when the time came for her to leave.

The fence was no longer there. The flaming doorway revealed within the long wooden slats that marked her way out had vanished, supplanted by a wide expanse of open fields that seemed to extend into the night further, even, than the horizon. Then I have to carry on this way, she thought, turning back and looking again to the sky, its dazzling show ongoing. She walked for a long time, occasionally glancing at the ground but, more often, arching her head to observe the phenomenal galactic parade, spellbound by its beautiful power.

It was after she had been walking for almost an hour, the landscape unchanging, the tracts of fields without end, that she first heard the distant barking of a dog. She ignored it, thinking it likely to be nothing more than her imagination but, as she went on, the sound became more distinct, more insistent. Unable to decide whether it was coming closer to her, or if she were nearing it, she began to worry.

‘Where are you?’ she called, spinning around, trying to see the animal. ‘Are you all right? Do you need help?’

Concerned that perhaps it was trapped somewhere, knowing she would be unable to leave any creature in such a situation, she slowed her pace and studied the area around her more closely, trying to see if there might be anywhere it could have become snared. Despite the now fading glow from the solar storm she could see no obvious place where it might be, no buildings or gulleys, holes or ditches, just boundless flatlands of grass.

‘Can we have a dog?’ she remembered asking.

She presently reached a hill of tall grass, rising perhaps thirty feet before her. She looked to either side of it but, unable to discern where it began, she resolved to carry on ahead, walking steadily towards its summit. As she reached it she paused, still listening for the barking dog and then, at last, she did see something ahead of her, found proof that there was someone or something other than just she in this large expanse of nothingness. She looked behind her, trying to gauge how easily her form might be seen but, realising that the sky had now returned to its usual blackness, she decided that even if these people ahead of her were looking right in her direction, they would be unlikely to notice her.

Yet, she could see them. Or, at least, the outlines of them, as though they were somehow lit from within, like their four frames were constructed from pale, shimmering neon tubes. She dropped to her haunches, deciding to observe them for a while, to see what they were doing or if they knew of somewhere to go so that she might follow them. She tried to imagine how this place would look during the day, wondering just how far the nullity stretched, whether it ran on forever, in all directions, or if there was an end to it and a place she could go. The figures ahead of her seemed to remain static for a long time. Maybe they’re just idling, just talking amongst themselves, Aria thought. Or, maybe they’re lost, too, and are just waiting for daylight so they can see where they should take themselves.

She thought about the dog again and, deciding that the people ahead of her were no longer, at least for now, worth watching, she began to carefully edge down the hill. The grass was slightly damp and so she crept along with caution, her ears sharp, her eyes moving from side to side, hoping to see the animal. She hadn’t heard its barking for perhaps half an hour and, although she tried to tell herself that either she had imagined it or that the dog was safe and had wandered off elsewhere, she couldn’t forestall her worrying. Maybe these people have seen it, she thought, noticing as she reached the bottom of the hill that they were still standing together. Oddly, though, it seemed that they were much closer to her now than they had appeared from her position at the brow of the hill. She looked back to it, wondering if it had been the angle of the incline that had brought her so much nearer to them but no, it appeared much too shallow to have reduced the distance by such a degree.

She looked back and found that the glimmering group were now standing directly in front of her. Shocked, she fell back, hard, against the grass.

Be not afraid, one of the figures said. But the words were not spoken; instead they were inside her mind, as though they had replaced her own thoughts, whispered, spectral tones that seemed to be coming from a very long way away.

‘Who are you?’ she asked, slipping on the dewey grass as she tried to get to her feet, her palms becoming wet from the effort.

We have come to greet thee, to indicate the direction in which thee must next advance.

Finally able to stand, Aria stared at them with wide-eyed amazement. She could see more of their bodies now, more than just the outline, yet they were almost translucent, fading in and out of the night. She could not tell whether they were male or female, could distinguish no features, no details of their faces.

‘Do I know you?’ she asked, because she thought that somehow she did, that she had met them before and that they had been standing just like this, close but unthreatening. When she received no answer, she said, ‘Where am I?’

Thou standeth where thy should, one of the figures said. Thee be where thee begins, from where thee always begins. There is no need to be afraid.

‘Where I always begin? I don’t understand.’

Thou shall. It will become clear soon enough, as it always does. Soon thee shall understand, and thou shall knowest what it is that thee needs to do.

‘But I don’t even know where I am,’ Aria said, looking from one to the next. ‘I don’t know anything except I was in an alleyway and I came though the fire, and then I heard the dog again.’

She realised she was making little sense, yet surprised herself that she was able even to speak at all. She also noticed that her anxiety had now fallen away, that this group of figures or shapes or beings, whatever they were, had somehow eased her, had brought peace to her. As one they moved slightly closer to her and she felt herself being absorbed by them, at the same time feeling that they were becoming one with her. They had become unified, had merged into something greater than themselves and had, somehow, then turned into something greater still.

There be no need for concern, no need to worry. Thee be here simply because it be where thee are supposed to be.

‘I am here,’ Aria said, dreamily, hazily, as though suddenly hypnotised.

Remain aware as thee travels, another of the figures said as they gently moved away again. Their shine was starting to dissipate, their forms beginning to fade into the night.

Thou shall replace those who shall help, just as thee may replace those who will try to stand in thy way. Remain aware, listen to the sound. Let it be thy guide, let him be thy guide for thee can trust him and he will show thee all that needs to be done.

‘Him?’ Aria asked but, before she had even finished the word, the figures were gone, had vanished without trace.

It was starting to get light, the first tentative morning rays creeping across the landscape, caressing the distant trees, smoothing the grass. Aria looked around, trying to understand what had just happened and why it seemed so familiar, why they seemed so familiar. Had she been with them before? She felt almost sure that she had, yet could not place exactly when or where, or if had happened just once or, rather, on many other occasions, at many other times. And the way they spoke, the language they used…

A few yards to her right she saw the hill she had just climbed, while to her left, at a considerable distance, she saw lines of trees that almost circled the horizon. How long has it been? she asked herself. It had certainly felt like it was late at night when she arrived, it had that atmosphere, that calm chill when all around seems to have retired, when there is nothing moving, nothing breathing. Yes, it was deep night when she heard the sound of the dog barking and had then started up the hill yet now, what seemed like just a few minutes later, an hour at the most, it is dawn, it is morning. How could she have lost so much time? How could the rest of the night have passed so quickly?

She looked around again, deciding which way to go, thinking about what the curious figures had told her. How could this be where she always began? Always began? Had she been here before? Many times before?

She walked in the general direction of the trees, thoughts still rushing through her mind. Why was she supposed to be here? What sound was she supposed to be listening for? And who is this him, this person she was supposed to trust?

Across the fields she went, her bare feet damp and cold in the grass, the hems of her pyjama bottoms soggy. The sun had fully risen, warming her face and arms, dazzling in her eyes, and as she walked she continued looking around, trying to replace any suggestion of the place she was supposed to be, the person she was supposed to trust. An hour passed, then another, but she felt no tiredness, no hunger nor thirst. And then, squinting her eyes for a better view, she thought she could see something in the distance. Something solid, something oddly shaped and dark. She increased her speed, now focused on this object to the north east, waiting for it to move or to glow, for it to do anything at all since she felt she was now prepared for anything. The sensation of calm brought to her by the strange figures who had spoken without words was now being fortified by the strength she had felt the last time she had been at home, fresh from the bath, ready to face her destiny.

Finally, as the ground became more barren, the grass now supplanted by dry, dusty dirt, she drew within twenty feet of the object and saw that it was, in fact, a block of stone. Misshapen and worn, as she looked she became aware, for the first time, of a building next to it. A church. An old, disused, ruined church. How did I not see this before? she asked herself, shaking her head. She approached the stone, now understanding that it was a monument, reached out a hand to touch its mossy surface and then leaned forward so that she could read its inscription.

The world is a fine place indeed.

Aria looked up at the church, ivy growing through the cracks in its stone, clambering over the openings of the windows and extending almost to its roof, and noticed that a large chunk of the masonry was missing. Something must have fallen off, she assumed, although she had no reason to think it. In her periphery she caught sight of something else and, turning to look, saw that a small house had suddenly appeared. She shook her head again, certain that it had not been there before, wondering if these things were being revealed to her for a reason. Maybe this was part of the journey she was supposed to be taking, that she was being directed along the path towards where she was supposed to be.

She shrugged, looked at the otherwise empty countryside around her, and began walking to the house. It was a strange shape, almost as though it should be part of a terrace, an old, Victorian-era terrace. It was narrow, with two bay windows on the left and one smaller window, next to the upstairs bay, while to its right stood a brown wooden door, two panes of frosted glass filling its top half. As she came closer to it, halfway between it and the church, she heard a terrified scream and then, without warning, the bay windows exploded and savage orange flames began tearing from them, thick black smoke billowing from the chimney. Aria took several steps back, holding her hand across her face to deflect the heat and then, in an instant, the entire scene changed, the house gone and, she saw as she turned around, the church also disappeared.

She stood completely still, blinking quickly, breathing heavily. And then, from somewhere beyond where the house had been, amongst the stifling silence that had fallen across the land, came the sound of barking once again.

’Where are you?’ she shouted. She was both afraid and frustrated, wanting to understand what could possibly be going on, where she was and what was happening to her. She whistled three or four times, hoping that might win the animal’s attention and, again, called out, ’Where are you?’

The barking stopped and then she heard a terrible sound, a yelp and then whimpering, as though the dog had been injured. She started to run, looking all around, her breath escaping her, her senses heightened as she tried to replace the animal, distressed that it was in trouble and hoping she would reach it in time to help. She ran across a field, uneven and difficult to navigate with its potholes and mounds and thick growths of dandelion, then through a ditch half-filled with muddy water, twigs and leaves. She leapt over a large fallen tree, then on through another treacherous field and then another, her pyjamas snagging on bracken, her bare feet pained from stepping on stones and trampling stinging nettles. Struggling for breath, perspiring heavily in the warmth of the morning, it seemed the further she ran, the more remote the rest of the world became. Wherever she looked she saw nothing but more open space. There was nowhere a dog might be hidden, nowhere it could possibly be, and as she turned and looked and felt the pounding in her chest and the soreness in her throat she also found no distant hint of a church or burning house because they had been concealed from view, their time passed for now, their obligation fulfilled.

She met a weatherbeaten, half-rotten wooden fence and leaned against it, breathing hard, lowering her head and wiping her brow, wondering again whether the barking had been merely in her head and that she was, in fact, completely alone. She sighed and, although she still experienced no hunger, no thirst, she was extremely hot. Her tee shirt clung tightly to her torso and, as she bent to examine the painful soles of her feet, the confining rippling of the cotton against her skin made her shudder. Small cuts and scratches were scattered in zig-zags across her feet, ankles and shins, and the hems of her polka dot pyjamas had become ragged and torn. She scratched at her damp hair, then decided she should continue further on, to head through the trees. She needed to move to her right, to work her way around to the end of the fence and, as she walked, taking her time, trying to compensate for the discomfort in her feet, she started to hear what she was certain must be water. A large body of water, resounding against something hard. Waves, maybe, breaking against rocks. An ocean. Perhaps, she thought, her pace quickening again, that’s where I’m supposed to go. That’s where I’ll replace my answer, across the water. I have to get to an island, and this whole day has been nothing more than some kind of test, some sort of preparation.

She found her way to what she now realised was the sheer edge of a cliff, falling abruptly away to the crashing, foaming water below. Raising her hand to shield her eyes, she could see no other land anywhere on the horizon, just the bright shimmer of the sun’s reflection from the water, rising and falling like the breathing of the earth. She bit her lip, pondering this lack of escape since she had felt sure she would see an island nearby.

‘Retrustal et sanctonium, prespar son equitus non consumalay nostritious…’

She turned quickly, hearing the muted suggestion of a voice.

‘Flamino retrust, airsation retrust, aqualibrium retrust…’

She saw no one, saw nothing, yet still she could make out the sound. It was a woman’s hushed voice, the words sometimes coming fast, sometimes much more slowly, in a language that made no sense to her.

‘Hello?’ she said anxiously, scanning her surroundings, trying to spot the woman.

It occurred to her that she was, perhaps, in a foreign land, that she was much further from home than she had previously thought. But then, this could be anywhere - anywhere in the world. It was something she hadn’t considered, something that, even now, she didn’t think mattered. The important thing was replaceing answers, completing the puzzle.

‘Sodia retrust, exhalibrious et grantsage macimilion.’

Now the voice was louder, and Aria felt compelled to replace it. It may be someone who could help her, who might be able to show her what to do next, even if they did not speak the same language. With nothing but open fields to her left, she decided to move towards the trees, to replace a way through and, she hoped, although she couldn’t pinpoint the direction from where the voice was coming, replace the woman.