Tales of Enchantment

Freedom of the Night

 Day.

He was harsh, wretched, and unforgiving. He was a tyrant, forcing his peasants to rot away in the sun. He laughed at their burnt, red faces and set fires under their toes. He was a relentless dictator.

Then came a youthful man, strumming and plucking away at an old guitar. He'd lay in the shade with a hat on his head and a charming smile that didn't know a care. Day grew furious at this display. He watched as the young man hopped from shadow to shadow, sparing his feet from the burning rocks.

It came to pass that Day had the man imprisoned, smashing his guitar in a fit of rage and sealing the man in a cell on the mountainside. There, the man only had a small window, where the Day stared through, toasting the man with his gaze.

The man was saddened that he could not play his guitar, but he did not mind truly. He still heard beautiful music in his head. And, "It's much cooler in here than it is out there," he said. The man sat up against the wall, facing the window, humming to himself and tapping his fingers on the stone floors.

The Day was still determined to cause the man misery. For years it seemed, the man stayed in that cell, withering away from hunger. After some time, the man could not put on a happy facade. He sat there, a hollow shell of a human being.

The Day, proud of his accomplishment but growing bored, left to make some other poor soul miserable. Once the man saw the Day had left, he was greeted by a cool darkness that hastened him to sleep.

Suddenly, a soft glow came through the barred window. And a beautiful body stood before his sleepy eyes. Her skin was pale and smooth, like a glass rock. She glowed with youth and wrapped herself in robes of starlight. She was the Night.

The Night smiled at the man, touched by his good, friendly nature. She kneeled down on the floor and took his hand. He was skin and bones, having been worn away by neglect.

"Come with me," Night whispered in his ear and graciously and easily pulled him to his feet. She glided to the window but felt a tug as the man hesitated.

"The bars...I cannot fit."

The Night laughed, so innocently. With a wave of her hand, the window grew, and the bars disappeared. She guided him outside and pushed her feet off the ground, taking flight.

They floated in the cool, windy sky and landed down in the woodlands. They were greeted by the nocturnal creatures that lived there. The animals brought the man food to eat. He had plenty, and when he was done, the Night lied with him under the grass for a moment.

"Sing me a son," she whispered.

"Gladly," he told her, for she had both freed and fed him. He sang a glorious acapella. As he sang, he began to stand and feel the vigor of his youth return to his body. The Night placed her hands in his and started to dance. They waltzed their way into the big, black sky, into the stars, and into a beautiful rhythm that synchronized with their hearts.

The two were in bliss.

That was until she saw dawn approaching on the horizon. Her partner was ignorant as he was pulled away back into that cell by a mysterious force. The Night fled as the Day returned to find the man dancing in his prison. He yelled for it to stop. The man awoke from his melodious trance.

The Day spent hours trying to burn the man alive and aging him in the most painful way possible. Once again, he had grown bored and left, allowing the sky to darken and Night to come to the window.

"Oh, my love," she whispered, reaching in to feel his touch. "How I long for you. But the Day, his magic is too strong against mine. I cannot free you from this torment forever."

"Then let us have the night," the man kissed her hand.

She smiled and opened his cage. He stepped out and swept her into a dance. And until morning came, they were happy.

And every time the Night visited, they'd waltz and have a romantic evening, hearing the music that never stopped, living the dance that never ended, and having the love that never died.