World of Walker Story Collection

King of Light

Slowly he kept walking through the breaking silhouettes of the big city. The skyscrapers seemed to be touching the sky, which was grey and gloomy, just as usual. The sun, that must have been somewhere up there, was hiding behind all the gray smog. He pulled his black cloth a bit further into his lower face and continued his way through the dirty streets. There were people everywhere. People passing by, without a soul, stressed as machines. Always straight ahead. No chance at all. The government made every form of joy impossible. Labor, pressure and distortion everywhere. A few chosen leaders would receive everything this world still had to offer, while the rest of them had to fight for their life on a daily basis. He lingered after this world that must have existed years before he was born. The legends were still told. Written down in eternity. A green planet, clean air and the gap between rich and poor still small. Small compared to these days. The hatred had destroyed it all, but not him. The flame in his heart was still burning. He simply couldn't give up. He was captured in the wrong decade, it felt. On the outside, he seemed like a normal worker. In his black hoodie and with the cloth in front of his face, it was difficult to distinguish between him and everybody else. He was a slender person, not very tall. This was no surprise in times of people starving to death. What made him different from all the others on the street was the brightness of his heart. As a small child, he had already dreamed of making the difference. The contrast from black to gray. From gray to white.

He climbed across some pieces of a broken car, crossed a lost and empty street and had soon arrived on the outskirts of town. Around him, old industrial buildings were towering into the sky. Abandoned and plundered, but exactly right for his means. Welcome to his kingdom. This was where he could leave the world behind. He grabbed one of the Bengal lights from his backpack, which he had once gotten from his father. He made his way into the empty hall. On the floor there were pieces from the crashed windows, stones were broken out of the walls and there was old trash everywhere. The fireworks in his hand sparkled in red and orange little flames and bathed the hall into a shimmering light. Lost in his thoughts, he climbed the brick wall that had once separated the two main parts of the building. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. In front of his eyes, there was everything he had ever imagined. He opened his arms, scanning the faces of all those in sight. Like-minded people everywhere. Somewhere in the distance, the sirens rang out which marked the beginning of the nightly curfew, but in his head there were totally different melodies than that.

"Welcome.", he said, "It is an honour to see all of you guys here." A smile spread across the crowd. Then he started to play. Sound by sound he continued to forget the world. The crowd in front of him seemed to lose themselves in the music. When he lifted his arms, he turned into their conductor. Together, they let hope resonate in the old walls. They made the building glow. These moments meant the world to him. As an artist, he had the chance to give a message to the people. He had chosen his very own carefully: You are not alone. He wanted to embrace each and every one of them and create a special unity. These moments kept him alive.

As always, he was afraid of the moment he had to leave. When the last melody had turned silent. Back into the sound of silence, that kept echoing in his head. But he wouldn't leave all alone. He would leave with a heart filled with joy and light. He would leave with the hope, that when the curtain would fall for the last time, that sinners wouldn't be able to light up the world on their own. He knew he was able to shine. You are not alone! Let your light shine in this world!