3 – The Woman

Disclaimer
Thank you for reading The Bright Spot. While this version is more refined than an early draft, it’s still a work in progress and does not reflect the final form of the novel. I expect to complete at least two more rounds of revisions before publication. You may encounter formatting quirks such as double spaces, missing punctuation, or repeated words—these are often artifacts from my editing software. If you notice any inconsistencies, or if something takes you out of the story, I’d truly appreciate hearing from you. Feel free to email me at shawn@redmattercreations.com. Your feedback is invaluable as I work to make this story the best it can be.

The interval between when the sun begins to illuminate a specific point and when it moves beyond is referred to as a calendar passing.
From the Journal of Azura Seren. -Corono section, 28th rotation

“Oberon, help!” I sprint over to the hanging body and he follows quickly behind. How did I not notice this a moment ago? I draw my knife and we work like clockwork. He offers his hands for me to step on, as if reading my mind.

He raises me up and I get a better look at the woman before I saw at the rope. She is a black-haired woman, her tear-stained face suggests she is likely in her thirties. Her torn clothes reveal a lot more skin than what would typically be acceptable.

The final thread of the rope snaps beneath my knife and the body drops to the soft soil underneath. I hop down and check her physical condition. Her neck isn’t broken, which is a good sign. How long has she been here? This had to have happened while we were exploring our houses. I remove the rope from around her neck and check her pulse with my fingers. She’s alive.

Her breathing is ragged, but she doesn’t respond to any stimuli. That scar on her neck will likely be there for the rest of her life. What possessed her to do this? I wish Hadrian were here because I don’t know what to do. They should be here any moment, right?

“Oberon, follow the path back and find Hadrian. Bring him here,” I command. He hesitates, his face blanching . “Now! I’ll stay with her until you get back.”

“What if it’s a trap?” He asks.

He’s right. There could be a group of people hiding, ready to ambush. If he leaves, I’ll be exposed. I grunt, “I’ll be fine, just go!”

Oberon sprints in the direction we came from, and Beef Iron Mutilator stays with me.  rubbing against my arm.

My hands move aimlessly, not knowing what to do. I’ve never had to tend anyone. Is she thirsty? Her lips are dry, maybe I should give her some water.

I retrieve my flask from my coat pocket and pour water in her open mouth. I realize she isn’t sitting up and she coughs, spewing water in my face.

Her pained eyes connect with mine and I feel a hand tightly gripping my arm. It takes conscious effort to not pull away. Panicked, I look around the area. If this was a trap, I’d be dead by now.

“Tommy,” she croaks.

“It’s okay. I’m here.” I say. I can’t heal her, or tend her wounds, so I do what I can to comfort her. The cat tries climbing onto her chest, but I push him aside.

I hear footsteps and see Oberon with Hadrian running toward us. “What happened?” Hadrian asks frantically, breathing heavily.

“We just found her like this. We’d been exploring the town and found her hanging here,” I say, my hands shaking like they had yesterday. Though they shake for a different reason.

“Step aside,” Hadrian says. He pushes the cat aside with his foot and rests a hand on the woman’s neck. “In the name of the Light, restore this woman.”

Light seems to reflect slightly where Hadrian touches her, and her eyes snap right open. She shrieks, swinging a hand up to her throat. A foot comes and kicks Hadrian in the gut, but he doesn’t grunt—he just takes a step back. She looks around, eyes full of fear. To her, we are three strangers staring at her. Her breathing comes in waves, but she remains silent.

“Caelius, why don’t you watch over her while she recovers?” Hadrian sighs. He turns from her and examines us both. “Oberon, thank you for swiftly retrieving me. The rest of the Brightest should only be a couple of minutes away. We will convene under this tree.” He steps away, back toward where they came.

“Can you walk?” I ask her. She sits up, bringing her knees close—silent. Her distrusting eyes give me pause.

“It’s okay,” I say, trying to comfort her. “We’ll take care of you.” She makes eye contact with me, but she doesn’t respond. “I’m Caelius, and my friend’s name is Oberon. We are just people trying to survive before we found you. The one who healed you is Hadrian. He is the leader of our small group.” I’m not sure what else I could say other than a single burning question. “Are you with anyone else?”

The woman’s face turns and she whimpers. She pouts softly as she falls sideways onto the ground. She sprawls out sideways and wails loudly. Tears flow from her eyes and hydrate the grass underneath.

I turn to Oberon, hoping he would know what to do. But his face is covered with bewilderment. He shrugs, helplessly. I want to help her. I don’t want to presume what’s best for her, but she shouldn’t be left alone.

“Is there something I could do to help?” I ask softly. “If you need a group to stay with, Hadrian is welcoming to all newcomers. It’s dangerous to be walking The Path alone.

She isn’t my responsibility. If she wants to run away, I won’t stop her. It is, however, my responsibility to make sure she gets the help and resources that she needs if she decides to stick around with us.

 Chattering fills my ears and down the road I see a group of people with wagons walking toward us. The Brightest have arrived.

Our group’s doctor, Stella is running our direction. Her casual clothes hardly suggest she’s our doctor, but she’s likely the smartest person in The Brightest. Where was she a few minutes ago with Hadrian?

She gets down to her knees and examines the crying woman. “Is she hurt?” Doc Stella asks, prodding around, checking her pulse.

“I—I don’t know.” I stutter, “She fell a couple of feet.”

“Okay, help me carry her.”

She moves and grabs the woman under her arm pits and I grab her legs. We carry her into a nearby house where we lay her on a bed. “Is she going to be okay?” I ask Stella.

“She’ll be fine. She just needs some rest. I’ll monitor her for now.” The doctor says. I don’t know Doc Stella personally, but I trust her.

I exit the house and watch as people disperse into buildings and structures on the street. Many others admire the massive willow tree in the center of the cul-de-sac. This is how it’s supposed to be—a community.

“This willow was here last time I visited,” Hadrian says next to me. He’d been waiting. “I forgot how large it was.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” I say in awe, leaning up against the railing on my porch, admiring the distinct flora with drooping leaves.

“Crazy how our planet can come up with the most beautiful of things,” he says. “Do you remember the Luminous Forest? I think you were about nine or ten passings old.”

“How could I forget? That place is creepy as hell.”

“Ah, you get used to it. At least I have,” Hadrian says. “Have you found your house yet?”

“Yeah, you want to see it?”

“Lead the way.”

Hadrian follows me for the short walk and we step inside. He examines the kitchen and living room. “Are you liking your new home so far?” he asks, taking a seat on the couch, testing its comfort. “Oh,” he grunts.

“I think this place definitely needs a new coat of paint, but so far, I’m pretty happy with it,” I say. Hadrian sticks his hands down into some of the holes in the couch, feeling around. Is he looking for something?

I show him my kitchen, bathroom, and lastly, my bedroom. “You could use some curtains there,” he says, pointing at the window. “I’m sure Tremain or one of the seamstress ladies have some extra cloth you could lay over that window. Should make it easier to sleep.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You have a nice place here, Caelius. I’ll admit, I’m jealous.” Hadrian sticks his hands in the pockets of his clean gold-trimmed robe.

“Are you going to find a house for yourself?” I ask him. Hadrian isn’t incompetent, but he is old. He’s the one who decided to stop and rest so he should get first say on the house he wants.

“Ah, no, probably not. I prefer to stay in my wagon,” he says. “You know. I’m just used to it.” He looks tired. Not the kind of tired where you didn’t get enough sleep. He displays the kind of tired of a man who has lived too long. He had to be over sixty passings old at this point. At first it seemed uncharacteristic for this man to want to rest in a little suburb, but in this moment, I understand completely.

“Caelius,” he starts, standing in my doorway “about your parents…” He doesn’t meet my eyes. Instead, he looks to the side at something. He has something to say. His mouth stutters and after a moment, he finally says, “They were good people. I’m sorry they aren’t here with us now.”

I give him a slight nod. I’ve gotten over their disappearance. I’ve accepted that they are likely dead somewhere. I just wish I had the chance to say goodbye. “It’s okay, Father. It’s not your fault.”

“No, it is my fault,” he admits. “They were under my protection and I let them run off. For that, I apologize.”

I want to give him a hug but I can’t bring myself to do it. He steps outside into the sunlight and meets up with other caravan members. I follow along, finding a place next to Oberon and Dolora.

Reyus and Efram chat excitedly about something they found while searching Hollyard. I attempt to eavesdrop on their conversation but I’m interrupted by Oberon. “The girls love the house.” He says, “Which is good because I don’t think that Beefy would like the idea of living in another house.”

I don’t reply, trying to figure out what those two men were discussing, but they had already finished their conversation.

The cooks waste no time getting dinner prepared. They started a campfire as soon as they arrived and have cooked up the meat for today. One by one, the children pass out the food to each of the adults. Brena brings food to her dad and mom first. Most children start with their parents . She brought me my serving next.

“Thank you, Brena,” I say, smiling. She runs off to pass more food to other people. Oberon, Dolora, and I sit together on a curb in front of the willow tree. Once Brena is finished passing out food, she joins us with her own plate.

“Hey did you ever get that girl’s name?” Oberon whispers to me. I don’t think he wants his wife to hear him talk about another girl. “You know, the one we found?”

“I barely talked to her,” I reply in between bites of food. “Who knows if she even plans on sticking around?”

“If you did, maybe you can get yourself a girlfriend, eh?” He nudges me in the side with his elbow. I do everything in my power to not blush. The woman is notmy type and the last thing I want to do is to take advantage of someone who is in a vulnerable state.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” I say.

“Dude, why not?” He sounds shocked. “You’re gonna miss this opportunity to lie with a woman.” He speaks a bit quieter. “Especially one as hot as her?”

“What are you guys talking about?” Dolora asks from next to Oberon. He snaps upright, looking very guilty.

“Oh, haha, nothin’. Just hunting stuff,” he lies. She shakes her head and turns her attention back toward her daughter. “Think about it, buddy,” he whispers, even quieter.

I don’t want to think about it. I think I’d rather wait for the right person to come along. I definitely don’t want to get stuck in a relationship that I am not happy in. Despite how tempting it may be.

Although, Oberon and Dolora aren’t perfect for each other, but they make it work somehow. Oberon is crash and spontaneous, whereas Dolora is calm and reserved. I know he commonly annoys her, but she still loves him despite that. Would I be able to do the same with someone I love? With our living conditions, I can’t be too picky about who I decide to wed.

I can’t deny I’ve been feeling the effects of loneliness lately. Having some companionship would be really nice. Oberon is fine to have around, but, well, he’s Oberon. I hope eventually I could find someone outside of The Brightest, but I have no intentions of leaving.

If I am going to ask this new woman out on a date, She’d need to be fully recovered and lucid. Snapping out of my fantasy, I realize I still don’t even know her name. She hadn’t said a single word to me and I’m already thinking of our future together. Damn it, Oberon, for putting these thoughts into my head.

I take another bite and hear an unfamiliar sound. “Mraw?” The suddenness startles me and I nearly choke on my food.

“Beefy!” Oberon screeches. “Come here little meathead!” The cat, Beef Iron Mutilator, hops over to Oberon and jumps up onto his lap. “Aww, baby kitty!” Oberon pets him, followed by smelling his head, followed by kissing his head, which is then followed up by him trying to fit the poor animal’s head in his mouth. The cat pushes back and Oberon squeezes him tightly against his face.

Dolora’s gaze hints jealousy. She sighs slightly and pushes herself off of the curb, her plate empty. Oberon doesn’t even notice her leaving while he continues to love on the animal Despite all of Oberon’s strangeness toward the cat, it does not leave. It seems to enjoy the attention. Or he enjoys the little pieces of steak Oberon feeds him.

Dolora sits with a group of other women who are excited when she arrives. I’m glad she has a group of other girls to confide with. Oberon can be hard to deal with at times.

For a brief moment, I catch a smirk on Mattias’ face as he glares at the two of us. It wasn’t just smug—it was knowing. Like he’d already done something. Or was about to.

Three men sit on the concrete in front of us. Beef Iron Mutilator is distracted by the newcomers and ignores Oberon. The cat approaches the leftmost individual—Efram, a skinny man who promptly scratches the tabby on the head. His thin mustache and goatee line is mouth as he speaks. “How are your guys’ crossbows holding up?” He asks us.

Eyeing the men sitting next to him, Reyus and Lew, I speak softly, unsure of their part in the conversation. “Fine,” Efram wouldn’t approach us with these two if he didn’t have something larger to share. “I think my crossbow sights could be off.” I add.

“They’re not, I checked them.” Oberon blurts. Still, Reyus, a clean-shaven Misuran man, holds out his hand. I allow him to inspect my weapon.

“I only ask, because we found something awesome whilst exploring,” Efram says. He leans in close to whisper, “An abandoned forge.”

Beef Iron Mutilator bumps his head against the bottom of Reyus’s hand holding my crossbow. Efram reads the puzzled expression on my face because he explains further, “If you need a new knife, sword, arrow heads—light, even animal traps, we can make it.”

“Ha,” Oberon smacks me on the shoulder with the back of his palm, “There you go buddy. Maybe you’ll find out that the crossbow really isn’t your thing after all.”

The joke isn’t funny, but I smile anyway, “Nah,” I say, “I don’t need to learn another weapon. I’m good enough with a crossbow.”

Oberon laughs again. This time Lew, speaks up, his voice is soft-spoken but assured, “If you want a weapon like Hadrian’s, we can make you one. We thought we’d come to you two first since you guys are the only other people here who know how to use a weapon.” There’s a pause before he adds, “Other than Hadrian of course.” I’d always thought of Hadrian’s rapier as a holy weapon—not something that can be crafted. Which is a foolish assumption, since its just steel. “I’m good, but thank you.” I tell the three. A sword would only make me more like Hadrian, which is not something I’d ever want.