Chapter 78: Memories

The next scene that played out was different. The child was gone, replaced with a teenager who looked just like him. White sprouts were mixed with his shaggy brown hair, as if years of stress were taking their toll. His lantern was full to the point of bursting, a torrent of orangey-red fire spilling out of the sides. The forest had also changed, giving way to a field of black lilies, a soft purple glow in the center of every flower. The stage was now brightly lit, allowing the audience to see everything. Whispering to himself, the teenager found a spot to sit and did just that, his fingers still wrapped around the handle of the lantern. He stretched and groaned from the effort as if he were an old man. Someone else joined him on stage, a man in black robes. His hood was down, revealing a full head of white hair that grew to his waist. A faint smile was on his lips as he approached. "The years are catching up to you. The weight of a thousand souls will do that." Looking up, the teenager grunted, his breathing slow. "Yes... yes they are. I can hardly remember what it felt like when I began. All I know is that I could walk and run, and now I would be lucky to crawl." The man nodded his understanding as he crouched down to inspect the lantern. He raised an aged hand to the flame and let it lick at his skin, not withdrawing it even as it began to burn him. "You have carried the lantern for many years now. Do you feel the memories inside you?" The teenager lethargically raised his head to watch the flame dance, tears beginning to collect at the edge of his eyes. "I do. I feel them at all moments of every day. Churning and spinning inside me, demanding to be released, but I know if I do that, their souls will be lost. It is a burden I have carried for so long, and it has left me so tired." No more words were shared as a minute of silence stretched on. Charon frowned as the black lillies started to grow taller, their stalks beginning to wrap themselves around the limbs of the Lantern Bearer as he struggled to stay awake. The robed man ignored it all, focused entirely on the flame burning him alive. The lights shifted hues, bathing the stage in blue, then red, then yellow, the actors’ expressions changing to match. Sadness, anger, and happiness intermixed to create an emotional medium, as if they were all empty and devoid of purpose. People shuffled into and out of the garden every couple of ticks of the watch, their statements always the exact same. "Take my memories with you!" The Lantern Bearer, an old man by this point, always accepted them, unable to deny them this mercy. When multiple came, he would choose the one he viewed to be the most moral, his actions subtly shifting with every added soul. Once no more people came, the two old men spoke once more, the Lantern Bearer starting the conversation. "Am I done now? Can I be freed?" The one touching the flame stood and turned to face the audience, revealing himself as the mirror image of the other. It was as if the child had been duplicated and aged to the extreme. "Almost. You will have one last task before your duty is complete." He raised a bony finger towards the backdrop where a hill could be seen. It was covered in more flowers, spiraling in a rainbow of colors up to a plain wooden campfire. "You must release the souls in the fire, allowing them to take their place alongside all of the others. Once you do that, you will be able to see the secret of our sacred duty." The former child pushed himself to his feet, the action slow. Once on his feet, he stared at the other man with him, his eyes narrowing in suspicion and then surprise as he realized he was looking at a copy of himself. "Who are you?" The man just raised the burnt hand, charred to a black crisp. A stiff breeze hit the limb, taking some skin with it, yet he showed no sign of pain. "I am an old memory, slated to be forgotten." With those cryptic words, he began to hum a solemn tune, wandering his way through the garden and off stage. Left alone, the next scene focused on the Lantern Bearer making the final trek up the hill. It was a trial as an old man, constantly tripping and falling and being forced to stand back up, all the while protecting the barely contained inferno raging in the small metal cage. The landscape grew snowy despite the hill being green, a deep chill setting in that spread to the audience. Charon wrapped his arms around himself to keep warm, noticing the parallels to when the child first walked on stage. ’This is an intense experience, I can see why Darius likes them so much. I never would’ve thought the theatre was this exciting!’ As he watched the man struggle, he couldn’t help but sympathize with him. He carried out a duty he had never asked for, built on a history he never knew, while constantly adding the burdens of everyone he met. It felt more like a punishment than a job. A divine intervention to rectify a past wrong by making someone experience the weight of knowledge. ’If that was me, I don’t know if I could handle it. I’d probably try and get out, run away, and find something else to do. Maybe he wanted to as well, but without his memories, he had no basis to justify it on?’ It was an all-too-complex issue for him to weigh on just yet. It was the kind of thing that needed time to stew and fully sink in before it could be properly addressed. Just in time, he refocused on the play to find the old man had made it to the top of the hill. With a total lack of energy, he fell near the base of the campfire. Forced to crawl, he dragged himself forward with one hand, his clothes ripping and tearing as he drew closer to the pit. Once there, he unceremoniously threw the lantern on top. The cage instantly split, releasing the flame of memories. It mixed with the rest, creating a pillar of heat that banished the cold. The snow on the stage melted in seconds, turning into water that spilled over the sides. The man cheered as it ended, his arms raised in triumph as he unleashed a wail of pain and acceptance. His skin began to change, the wrinkles vanishing and being replaced with smooth flesh. His clothes warped as well, becoming lighter and a dirty shade of brown. The holes remained, leaving him in rags as he felt himself shrink. A final ball of light shot from his chest, causing him to fall to his knees with a choking cough. He scratched at the ground as he began to sob uncontrollably, his white hair falling out and being replaced with a mound of freshly regrown brown. With one last whimper, he collapsed. His own soul and memories fluttered into the campfire, exploding in a torrent of light as the robed duplicate appeared. Slowly, he reached down and grabbed the lantern, tucking it in the arms of the sleeping child before hoisting him up and carrying him down the hill. One last scene played out in front of them all. The fire split into dozens of beams, landing on the stage to create a sea of people. For the first time during the presentation, someone spoke, their voice full of shock and wonder. "Is that... me?" Growing curious, Charon began to search the faces and realized that he could recognize a few. Liam, Annie, Darius, and Red were all standing there in a row, facing up at them. Emerius was as well, a little bit off to the side, sporting a familiar all-knowing grin. Continuing to scan them, Charon searched for himself, curious how he would appear in the reflection. He went row by row, column by column, trying to locate his visage, but failed, even when he went over it again and again. His expression hardened as he saw some of the faces begin to fade, turning back into balls of light before disappearing forever. He never found himself by the time the last spark fizzled out.