The Longest Day

Tahni hurried into the house through the back door. She had just finished feeding the chickens that were kept in the barn behind her home and she didn’t want to waste another second of her day.

“Dad!” she called out, “Dad, can I go for a hike in the woods? I’ve finished my chores!”

A muffled groan floated through the air from the direction of her father’s bedroom.

Tahni let out a sigh and ran her fingers through the thick waves of her auburn hair. It was all too often that her father slept through the day, and she worried for him because of it.

Quickly, she made her way through the small wooden farmhouse her father had built for their family during his wife’s first pregnancy, reaching the end of the narrow hallway just as her father, Hank, emerged from his room.

“What was that, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

With another sigh, Tahni repeated herself. “I wanted to know if I could go for a hike in the woods.”

“Uh, sure. Just don’t forget to be back by—”

“By sundown,” Tahni interrupted. “I know, dad. Can you please get some rest while I’m gone, though? You really do need to take better care of yourself.”

She watched as her father rubbed his eyes with calloused hands and attempted to neaten the wild disarray
that was his thick brown hair.

It made little difference.

“You know I’ve been busy lately, Tahni. I’ve got paperwork to do.”

Hank was a rather important man in Greengrove. With a position on the village Council, he was often up to his knees in work, and juggling that with the task of raising his two children alone, occasionally he would push himself too hard.

“I know, dad. But you need to learn to put your health before your work. If you get sick, what will we do? I worry about you, that’s all. Please just promise me you’ll get the rest you need today.”

“Okay, okay. I promise,” he agreed.

“Thank you. I’ll be back before dark.”

After planting a quick kiss to Hank’s rough cheek, Tahni pulled back and pointed toward his bed without so much as another word.

The corner of her father’s mouth twitched upward as he turned and retreated to his room.

Collapsing on his sheets, he was asleep in seconds.

Tahni turned and walked back through the small house, towards her older brother’s room.

She knocked on the door and a muffled reply told her she could come in.

Her brother, Kobi, was sitting on his bed, flipping the page of one of his favourite books. His thick brown hair—much like their father’s—fell messily into his eyes. It was almost time that she cut it for him again.

“Hey, I’m going for a hike in the woods. I’ll be back before sundown. Can you make sure dad gets some rest please? He really needs it, he’s been working too hard lately,” Tahni murmured over the dull roar that was their father’s snoring from down the hall.

“Of course. I’ll cook dinner tonight and wake him when it’s done. I’ll see you later,” Kobi replied in hushed tones.

After offering a quick thanks to her older brother, Tahni left the house and ran for the tree line.

While she didn’t fit the image of conventional beauty—with her thick, loose curls, tinted a deep red flowing down past her shoulders, a small scar on her chin from a childhood accident, freckles spotting her nose and cheeks, and sharp green eyes—she was certainly still a looker.

What made Tahni truly unique though, was not her looks, but instead her endless fascination with the world that surrounded her. And it was times like this—in the cover of the forest by her home—that it truly shone through.

As she ran, she took in every leaf above her head, every blade of grass beneath her feet, every sound the birds and insects made around her, living in their own little worlds so separate from hers. She breathed in the scent of flowers and dirt and fresh, clean air. She absorbed as much as she could, and she clung to each new sensation.

This was where Tahni felt most at home.

This was where she belonged.

Gradually, the trees began thinning and a soft light appeared in the distance. Rays of sunshine pierced down through the canopy like knives as Tahni slowed and drew closer to a small clearing ahead.

Stepping out of the tree line, she squinted. The trees had provided a cover from the harsh light of the sun, but now she stood in an open field, the gentle sound of a small stream trickling close by.

As her eyes adjusted, Tahni noticed a strange shape across the expanse of grass. She had been to this clearing many times before, knew the lay of the land like the back of her hand. It was her favourite place, and she’d kept it a secret so she could come here alone to enjoy the peace and quiet.

Today, however, she was not alone.

Opposite Tahni, crouched by the shallow stream across the open space, was a woman.

Fair hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall, almost seeming to glow, though Tahni knew that was impossible. Her slim figure was hugged by a gorgeous gown, perfectly matching the blue of the sky.

Tahni could tell, though she did not know the woman, that she would have a kind face. That her pale hands would be delicate and gentle.

The woman turned as Tahni realised she’d been staring just a little too long.

Their eyes met and Tahni felt her stomach churn. Not as though something was wrong; quite the opposite, actually. It was almost a nervous feeling, as if she were seeing an old friend after years spent apart, and she wasn’t quite sure how to act.

Without ever deciding to do so, Tahni moved forward, making her way across the clearing until they were almost within reaching distance of each other.

The woman’s eyes were a piercing crystal blue, matching her dress almost perfectly.

“Tahni,” the woman murmured warmly. The name slipped off her tongue as if she’d said it a thousand times before.

Tahni froze in place. Her breath caught in her throat and her hands suddenly felt cold and clammy.
How could this woman—this complete stranger—know her name?

Surely, she was hearing things. She must have said something else. She couldn’t possibly have said her name.

Warily tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, she locked eyes with the woman, noticing a small scar running in a straight line from the corner of her right eye to the middle of her temple.

The woman’s brow furrowed, as if she were confused as to why Tahni was not greeting her in kind.

Tahni watched her warily.

After a moment, recognition lit the woman’s eyes and she chuckled softly to herself. It was soft and delicate; the kind of laugh every girl wished for.

“I’m so sorry, Tahni. I’ve known about you for years and I suppose it slipped my mind that you would have no idea who I am,” she said. “My name is Vita Augur. I was hoping I would find you here.”

“I—” Tahni stuttered, “How do you know my name? What do you mean you’ve known about me for years?”

The woman, Vita, smiled kindly, though it did nothing to lessen Tahni’s confusion.

“I know this must be a lot to take in. I didn’t mean to shock you. There are things you don’t know, Tahni. Things I need to explain to y—”

“Wait, what?” Tahni interjected. “How? I don’t know you. How could you have anything to tell me if we’ve never met before? How could you know my name, or that I would come here, when you have no idea who I am?”

“If you’ll sit with me,” Vita said, gesturing toward a patch of grass by the stream, “I can try to explain as best I can.”

After considering the offer for a moment—still cautious of the strange woman before her, though she had such gentle features—Tahni moved closer and lowered herself to the ground.

Vita followed, folding her dress beneath her.

“What would you like to know first?” she asked.

“How do you know who I am? And what did you mean when you said you’ve known about me for years? And how did you know I’d c—”

Vita cut Tahni off with a soft laugh. “One question at a time, child,” she said delicately. “To answer those questions for you, first I have to explain who I am.”

“Then explain. None of this makes sense. And don’t call me ‘child.’ I’m seventeen years old.”

Looking at the woman now, Tahni realised she’d been so distracted before by her own confusion that she hadn’t noticed the woman’s hair. Now that she was sitting down with her, Tahni realised that the glow she’d noticed before—the impossible radiance—didn’t seem quite so impossible. Vita’s hair had a sort of luminosity. It was subtle enough that if you weren’t looking closely, it could almost be a trick of the light.

But Tahni was looking closely, and she was stunned by what she saw.

“I am a special kind of person,” Vita began, jolting Tahni from her thoughts. “Forgive me if I sound conceited, but there’s really no other way to put it. I am what is known as a Sister of the Sense.”

“What does that mean? I’ve never heard of that before.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. I’m from a very different place. Sisters—and Brothers—of the Sense are people with a very particular gift. Perhaps you’ve heard the term ‘Seer’ instead?”

Tahni nodded slowly.

“Only in stories though. The tales my mother would read me when I was young, before she died. They’re just myths and legends made up for children. None of it is real.”

Vita’s lips curled up into a smile. “Seers may be myths and legends to you, but to me, they are very real. They’re my second family. They’re my friends. They’re the people who taught me how to use my own gifts. And those gifts are what led me to you, Tahni.”

Tahni was stunned; completely lost for words.

Here was this stranger, this woman she’d never met before in her life, telling her that not only were Seers real, but that she was one, and that it had led her to exactly where they sat this very moment.

“No,” Tahni mumbled, pressing her palms to her forehead. “That’s not possible. They’re just stories.”

“All tales begin somewhere,” Vita murmured. “My ancestors used to be able to live out in the open, without any reason to hide. But over time things changed. A Brother of the Sense—a man named Colton Porter—decided that he was above the rest of humanity. That he was better, stronger, superior. And so he used his gifts for the wrong reasons. He sought supremacy over those he did not consider his equals. Because of him, people began to feel threatened by our kind, and so in fear, they cast us out. I cannot blame them for that. Over time, we learned to hide our gifts to protect ourselves. If people knew what we were, there was no way of knowing how they would react—what they might do. Desperate people will do desperate things, after all. And so they believed that we died off. There weren’t many of us to begin with—only one or two are born in each generation—so all it took was 3 or 4 short decades before they were convinced that our kind were all but extinct. That is where your stories come from, Tahni. That is where they began. In the time when my kind could walk freely among yours; before we lived in fear.”

Tahni simply watched her, waiting for an explanation that wasn’t completely ludicrous. Part of her wondered why she had even agreed to this. This woman was a stranger, and for all Tahni knew, she could be crazy.

After a moment of silence, Vita dipped her fingers into the stream, letting the water gently trickle over them. She looked thoughtful.

It took a moment before Tahni noticed the water changing, her thoughts slipping from her mind as she watched the stream in awe.

At first it was barely perceptible. A soft glimmer here, a swift flash of colour there… Then it intensified.

Soft glimmers grew stronger and swift flashes of colour became entire swirls. Warped by the running water, outlines of hills and mountains became clear. Places Tahni had never seen before, though she knew every inch of the land surrounding her village.

“Where is that?” she marvelled.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she should be shocked by the idea of images floating impossibly in the water, but she simply wasn’t. The beauty of the landscape before her was all she could think of.

“That was the view from my bedroom window when I was your age,” Vita explained. “My mother took me away from my home when I was 13 to a… School, I suppose, for people like me. Brothers and Sisters of the Sense, Seers, whatever you’d like to call us. It was a place where I was taught about my gift. How to use it, control it, understand it.”

“Okay, but… What does that have to do with me?” Tahni asked.

“It has everything to do with you. While I learned how to control my powers, I also learned what they meant. I learned about prophecies and the power they hold. That,” Vita paused, “is why I am here. I received a prophecy, Tahni. One centred around you. One that you are destined to fulfil, for the sake of every innocent life being lived.”

Tahni blinked.

“W—what? No. No way. I mean, I believe you. I believe you’re a Seer and that they’re real—there’s no way I can deny that—but… What you’re saying now can’t be true. I’m no one. I’ve never done anything special in my life. There’s no way I’m the person in this prophecy you’re talking about. You must have confused me with someone else. I can’t possibly be the person y—”

“Tahni,” Vita cut in sharply. “Hush. I know it’s difficult to believe, especially when you come from this part of the world, where people are so sheltered from things like prophecies and sorcery. But if you are not convinced that it is true—if you choose to deny what you see right in front of your eyes,” she gestured to the image still floating impossibly in the water beside them, “then I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Tahni didn’t know what to think. It was undeniable that something was going on. No average person could make pictures appear in a stream like that. But to think that she was destined to fulfil some kind of mystical prophecy was absurd. There was no other word for it.

Standing up and tucking her hair behind her ear, Tahni mumbled, “I… I think I need some time to wrap my head around this. I don’t know. This is crazy.”

Vita bowed her head in understanding.

“If you decide you want to know more, I will be here. Just know that there is only so long before the prophecy will come to pass, and this is not a light matter. People’s lives are at stake, Tahni. Your family’s included. I don’t want to overwhelm you, but that is the truth of the matter. I hope you can understand; I fear for the lives of the people I love as well.”

Tahni couldn’t bring herself to respond. Vita’s words hit her like a slap in the face.

If this was true—if there really was some kind of hidden side to the world where sorcery and Seers existed, and she wasn’t in some kind of bizarre dream—then people may die if she didn’t at least try to do something.
Still, it was an impossible idea. She simply couldn’t comprehend it.

Somehow, though, it was equally as impossible—seeing the images in the stream and the hint of desperation in Vita’s eyes, despite her efforts at disguising it—to believe that this was all a lie either.
With a quick nod and what she hoped looked like a genuine smile, Tahni turned to leave, silently praying that when she woke in the morning, she would find herself back in a world that made sense.