The Northern Lights
A gifted northern sorcerer must save her sister beyond the darkened sky.
Flash fiction by Jordan Bianchi
Submission for NYC Midnight’s 2022 Flash Fiction Challenge.
Annika screamed.
A vision overtook her sight. She saw a vibrant burst of light strike the energy fields that coursed above the planet. Its power sent ripples throughout her body.
“The flare has penetrated the upper atmosphere,” said Annika.
“Ready yourselves!” shouted Viktor, her love, to a crowd of northern sorcerers.
Dressed in furs and armor from all across the arctic, the circumpolar coalition of sorcerers stood ready at the edge of the ice flow that housed the Shrine of the Northern Pole. In an array of languages, they had spent a fortnight fortifying the icy island, the spiritual center of their lands, with protective spells and enchantments. They had traveled far and wide for this moment.
On this night – the winter solstice – they would defend the island while Annika, the Auroral Sage, sought to break the curse of everlasting darkness that plagued their lands.
Many sorcerers had never seen the sun. Many had forgotten how the stars twinkled.
Many were doubtful the curse could be broken.
Yet they would defend the island, as their ancestors would have done.
To protect their people from the wraiths that lurked in the northern lands, Annika would have to tear through the sky and save Katja, her older sister, from beyond the dome of darkness that concealed the Great Central Sun from the earth.
On this day, when Annika was young, Katja sought to combine the colors of the aurora, bring them into the shard of starlight within her own heart, and unify them to become white – the energy of creation needed to pierce the darkness.
But before she could finish weaving her magic, the dark beasts struck and took her away.
The shard of starlight within Annika’s own heart was all that remained on their world of their great star. Only she could reach Katja. This was her ancestral duty.
Although years of training with the elders strengthened her, worry coursed through Annika’s veins.
“What if after all this I can’t unify the lights?” asked Annika.
“Only fear will block you from bringing Katja home.” Viktor lifted his beer stein filled with Vossaøl. “Trust the spirits. Do not give into the darkness.”
The night was still. The sorcerers prayed to their respective spirits from all corners of the arctic.
Then the guards’ horns blared.
Doom consumed the sorcerers as curtains of northern darkness rippled over the icy sea.
Hoards of wraiths flew out from behind the dark curtains. They vigorously gnawed and scratched at the sorcerer's protective veils.
“They won’t hold long at all,” said Annika.
Viktor’s nervous eyes raced across the sky.
“Where’s that flare?!” he asked.
Annika closed her eyes.
“It’s curving over the Saffron Sands,” said Annika.
Viktor drew his swords, dual blades painted with runes.
“To your positions!” Viktor shouted to his fellow sorcerers. His battle cry snapped Annika from her trance. “We’ll keep them away for as long as we can. You can do this.”
Sorcerers armed with staffs, enchanted axes, swords, spears and bows, mounted glacial horses, horned rams and levitating caribou. Together they took off after Viktor on his winged bear. Their war cries echoed across the ice fields as they charged at the wraiths and the dark auroras.
Annika saw the flare pass into the tundra. It was close.
She made her way to the shrine.
Seven effigies, the divine spirits, one for each of the sacred emanations, stood in a circle. Their crystalline bodies were darkened and still, each with a palm extended to the sky.
Annika gasped and grasped her head.
The flare had arrived.
The sky roared to life.
The energy from the Great Central Sun erupted above the Northern Pole in a conflagration of colors. Reds, greens, blues, violets – every color imaginable – danced overhead.
This was her moment, what she had trained for since she was a girl.
The northern lights had ignited magic that had been stored deep within her. Annika’s eyes glowed in tandem with the light in the sky.
It was time.
She flicked her hands and a kaleidoscope of color burst out through her palms. With precision, she split the amalgamation of colors into seven auroras of pure light, to deliver divine light to each warrior's effigy.
The crystal warriors illuminated. They lifted their chiseled staffs and projected seven pillars of pure light into the air.
The celestial energies were balanced. The drop zone had been lit.
A shrill cry pierced Annika’s ears. The wraiths had broken through the enchanted veils.
“Annika, do it now!” shouted Viktor, from above.
The dark creatures raced toward the shrine.
Annika brought the auroras to her heart, but the auroras would not burrow inside.
Darkness was surrounding her heart.
She was still afraid.
She then saw her heart was filled with love.
She could not fail her sister. She could not give into her fear. It was time to bring her home.
The darkness in her heart evaporated. The colorful ribbons of light glided into her heart, then inside the shard of starlight that was buried within. They swirled and became one.
Annika glowed white.
She projected white ribbons into the sky. They pierced and shattered the dome of darkness. Sunlight traversed onto the arctic sea.
Colorful auroras effortlessly cascaded around a body that descended through Annika’s opening in the form of wings.
The humanoid figure’s feet gracefully landed on the runes of the drop zone. When its body dimmed, Annika saw her sister. Katja was now younger than Annika; she had not aged a single day. The wraiths would not be faced alone this time. Katja took her sibling’s hand, and together, as the sun broke through Annika’s scratches in the sky, they flew off to fell the curtains of northern darkness.