Illumine

Oblivion.

That's what most beings are scared of. Yes, they're scared of death or pain but oblivion is worse. Everyone dies eventually. Even stars, which can live billions of years, eventually die. But if you die at least you existed. Oblivion means you are completely gone.

There are methods of torture called solitary confinement or "white torture", where all sensation is stripped away. Sensory deprivation could break you. Many people said it was worse than physical torture. The lack of stimuli causing you to wonder what was real and what was not. Causing you to wonder if you were real.

Nyrillah wondered what it would be like when she was gone. Would she feel anything? Would she think at all? Or would she be... nothing? Oblivion.

The balls of light floated around her. She trailed a hand through one and it giggled lightly. It was close to gaining sentience. She remembered in a vague way when she had been like that. Her mouth curved in a sad smile.

The hem of her skirts snagged on the flotsam of the forest floor as she walked. She could have floated, she supposed, but she was being human right now. What better way to spend her last day than as a human, the beings most conscious of their mortality?

She spun in a circle, her skirts floating out around her. The tulle was a thin and filmy defense against the evening chill but Nyrillah embraced the sensation. It was, after all, one of her last. Her senses seemed heightened because of it.

The balls of light danced around her, drawn to one of their own. She could hear the faint hum they emitted.

Nyrillah halted her spin and braced herself with a hand to the rough bark of a nearby tree. She gazed at the lights surrounding her.

"It's my last day, little sisters. But you… these days are only your first. Life goes on. "

One of the lights crept closer, whining at her. She ran a hand through it fondly.

"Yes, I'll miss you guys too. But let us enjoy these last moments we have without regret for what is to come."

So she picked up her skirts and ran through the forest, laughing as the lights danced around and ahead of her, leading her on. Further up. Further in.

The earth of the forest was cool and loamy under her bare feet. She reveled in the feeling.

"Your shine won't last forever. But you'll foreverglow," she sang under her breath.

In her life, she had flitted through the human world and found herself impressed by many things. Their music had been one of them.

Nyrillah was made of light. At this advanced stage of her life, she could shape shift into anything she desired. The humans had never guessed she was not one of them.

The foliage got thicker as she went deeper in the forest, branches slapping her face and underbrush tangling her feet. Her hair collected bits of debris: leaves, berries, flowers. Her skirt was a mess- torn and stained- but she didn't care. It wasn't like she'd need it ever again.

The bubbling of a stream drew her. She slipped past the outstretched hands of an oak, a little slip of a girl in a large forest. She liked feeling small. It was an honest sensation. Some people think that they are big, that the world revolves around them. It is understandable that they are the heroes of their own stories. But the reality is that the world is a large place. We are here to make it a better place. It does not cater to us.

Perhaps we don't need to leave big marks on the world. We don't need to feel important. Little ripples of good. A butterfly effect. That is all.

To do more good than harm before you leave.