THE CAVE OF CURIOSITY
The Thread of the Glimmerfanes
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I — THE GLINT
I wandered near the dark cave.
I had heard of it before.
This time, a sparkle glinted at the entrance.
I knelt to touch it.
It disappeared.
Against my own guidance, I dared enter.
II — THE FIRST SIGHT
III — THE FIRST THREAD
Deep within,
where no one could see,
were webs of silk—or silver.
No one knows.
I touched one.
Something inside me lifted.
Excitement.
A wisp of something
flew past my face.
My heart thumped.
I turned.
A small dark butterfly
hovered behind me,
its wings black
with shimmering tips.
Or maybe
it wasn’t a butterfly.
I moved closer.
Tiny hands.
A delicate face.
Wings like stained glass
caught beneath moonlight.
It smiled at me.
And showed its fangs.
I stepped back.
The creature lowered its head,
almost shy.
Its sweetness caught me
before its teeth could.
I’m a Glimmerfane,
if you’re wondering.
The words arrived
inside my mind.
“You’re beautiful,”
I told her.
She fluttered closer.
Do you need help
finding your way?
I didn’t know
if I needed help.
But company
would be nice.
IV — THE FIRST TURN
Here, then.
The Glimmerfane spun
a fine thread
around my wrist.
It shimmered silver,
then gold,
then something in between.
It felt so nice.
Not tight.
Not heavy.
Warm.
Like being touched
without being held down.
We walked a while.
Farther in,
I saw more Glimmerfanes
perched along the cave wall.
Their wings opened
one by one.
We were waiting for you,
they said.
Should we journey
with you too?
The more the merrier,
I thought.
They came down laughing.
One touched my shoulder.
Another touched my hand.
Another brushed my hair.
And they began weaving
beautiful threads
between us.
I watched carefully.
Not once
did they use
their sharp fangs.
I had never been held
by something so beautiful.
The cave was cool
as we wandered deeper,
but the Glimmerfanes
surrounded me.
Their wings hummed.
The threads brightened.
Warmth gathered
around my body
until I could no longer
feel the stone.
I laughed.
They laughed too.
One brushed my cheek.
Another curled against
my collarbone.
One whispered,
You came
at the right time.
Another said,
We needed you.
I didn’t know why
those words
made the cave feel warmer.
I followed.
The paths divided.
The Glimmerfanes
chose left.
I stopped.
“I thought
the opening
was that way.”
Their wings fluttered.
No.
No, no.
That way is narrow.
That way is wet.
That way is lonely.
This way is prettier.
One touched my wrist.
The thread warmed.
I looked left.
Then right.
Then left again.
The Glimmerfanes
were already going.
So I followed.
V — THE SMALL THING
I began leaving
little white stones
at every turn.
One here.
One there.
A trail back.
Just in case.
In the morning,
some were gone.
Some had been
turned over.
Some were stacked
into tiny towers.
The Glimmerfanes
thought this was funny.
At first,
so did I.
Later,
I did not.
“Please stop moving them.”
Their wings drooped.
Their little faces softened.
We were only
making them beautiful.
“If we want
to get out of here,
we need to know
our way.”
Their eyes widened.
Oh, we do.
We do.
The light is where
we shine the best.
Something sharp
moved beneath my ribs.
Guilt,
perhaps.
Or irritation.
It hardly mattered.
I began explaining.
They began listening.
And while I explained,
the cave grew deeper.
VI — THE THREADS
There were so many now.
Gold.
Silver.
Blue-white.
Some disappeared
beneath my sleeves.
Some vanished
into my hair.
Some seemed
to enter the skin.
When one Glimmerfane trembled,
I felt it.
When one became afraid,
my stomach tightened.
When many worried at once,
my heart began to race.
Something is wrong,
I thought.
We are going
far too deep.
We may never
get out.
The Glimmerfanes
gathered closer.
The threads warmed.
The feeling softened.
No,
I thought.
Everything
must be all right.
The Glimmerfanes smiled.
Their teeth shone.
VII — THE NEED
They brought me
small things after that.
A shell split neatly
down the middle.
A moth
with dust still
on its wings.
A button.
A bead.
A tiny jawbone
white as milk.
They laid them
in my hands
as though I had always known
what to do
with broken things.
Can you hold this?
Can you fix this?
Can you stay
until it doesn’t hurt?
Their voices
were soft.
I said yes
before I knew
I had answered.
That is how it happened.
Not all at once.
Not with a bargain.
Only the small sweetness
of being needed.
I became useful.
Useful
is a warm word
underground.
And though
I had not eaten,
their need for me
filled my belly.
I began to believe
that usefulness
was a kind of love.
VIII — THE MAZE
I stopped counting
the chambers.
Stopped counting
the turns.
The Glimmerfanes knew
little passages
I could never remember.
One path opened
into a pool
that reflected stars
though no sky
was above us.
It made me remember
the sky.
Another chamber
grew crystals
that chimed
when touched.
I remembered
a bird singing.
Another held flowers
pale as bone
that opened only
when we whispered.
And suddenly,
I remembered
how a rose unfolds
when it opens.
How could anyone
want to leave
a place like this?
They asked.
Still,
I had a longing.
Sometimes I found
one of my white stones.
Then another.
Marks from somewhere
I had already been.
“Have we come
this way before?”
I would ask.
Then I bargained.
“If you let me
help you out of here,
we can all shine together
in the warm sun.”
I described wonders.
Open sky.
Rain.
Grass.
Trees moving
in the wind.
They gasped in awe.
Yes.
Yes.
We will go with you.
We want to shine.
So we walked farther.
“This is still wrong,”
I barked.
The Glimmerfanes laughed.
Their teeth sparkled
when they did.
All caves look alike
after a while.
That was true.
Or sounded true.
We’re in this together,
I told myself.
We’ll find the way soon.
Then the warmth
returned.
IX — THE LIGHT
The light came
without warning.
A thin white seam
opened high
in the cave wall
as though the stone
had remembered
another life.
One small hole
pierced through
the dark.
Brightness.
It touched my cheek.
Only that.
Only a breath
os light.
Every thread
across my body
gave a strange
little shiver.
I looked up.
The Glimmerfanes
went still.
Not frightened.
Not angry.
Still
in the way creatures
become still
when a secret
has spoken.
Then they rose.
Quickly.
Gently.
Without a word.
They climbed
toward the light.
Their stained-glass wings
darkened against it.
One by one,
the brightness vanished.
Darkness returned
like a hand
over the mouth.
The Glimmerfanes
looked down.
Smiling.
The threads
held me
where I stood.
And did something
to my memory.
I touched my cheek
where the light
may have been.
The place felt cold now.
Or clear.
I could not tell.
X — THE AFTERIMAGE
That night
I dreamed of nothing.
No Glimmerfanes.
No caves.
No teeth.
No threads.
Only the place
os the wall
where the light
had shone through.
In the morning
I began placing
my stones again.
I was not lost.
Not exactly.
But when I looked back
at the old piles,
I found one stone
balanced
atop another.
Another arranged
inside a ring
of glittering dust.
My road home
had become decoration.
Something hot
rose inside me.
My heart answered first.
My mouth opened
to scold them
back into direction.
Instead,
I said nothing.
The Glimmerfanes waited.
The thread
around my wrist
trembled.
My heart pounded once.
Twice.
Again.
I waited
until the heat
was mine to own.
Only then
did I turn back.
“If I am to find
my way,
do not move
what I mark.”
Their wings lowered.
Their faces folded
to sorrow.
We only wanted
to make it prettier.
Perhaps
they meant that.
The cave was full
of beautiful mistakes.
Or—
was it a mistake?
XI — THE FIRST PAUSE
After that
I began doing
something strange.
Each time
a Glimmerfane tugged at me
with sweetness,
or need,
or hurt,
each time
my body answered
before I could gather
my own thoughts,
I touched my cheek
where the light
may have been.
Not for rescue.
Not for courage.
Only for a place
of hope
amid the wandering.
The first time
I touched my cheek,
it felt disloyal.
The second time
felt difficult too.
The third time,
something in me
remembered.
The threads
did not disappear.
The warmth
did not disappear.
My love for them
did not disappear.
But the pull
no longer reached
all os me.
And not
quite as quickly.
A little space opened.
Small as breath.
Small as a crack
in stone.
Still—
it was enough.
Enough
not to answer immediately.
Enough
not to follow
every flutter.
Enough
to notice
the direction
my own feet
were facing.
And in that pause,
the maze lost
one turn.
XII — WHOSE FEELING
One Glimmerfane
began trembling
beside me.
Fear moved
through the thread.
My stomach tightened.
Another landed
on my shoulder.
Its worry
entered like cold water.
Then another.
And another.
Soon my heart
was racing
toward bursting.
I nearly moved
where they wanted.
Nearly.
Then I thought
of the light.
I waited.
I breathed.
The fear
did not disappear.
I touched my chest.
The beating
was mine.
The fear—
I was no longer sure.
The Glimmerfanes
stared at me.
For the first time
in a long time,
I saw their teeth.
I could feel
their feelings now
and know
they were not mine.
XIII — THE CLEARING
I began seeing things.
Moss growing
on only one wall.
A slight shift
in the air.
Crystals leaning
the same direction.
A mark
from my own hand
on a stone column
I would have sworn
I had never passed.
A white pebble
wedged inside a crack.
Mine.
Now,
when the Glimmerfanes
pulled on me,
I thought
of the changes
in the cave.
Perhaps
the cave changed.
Perhaps
I did.
The Glimmerfanes
grew brighter
when I doubted.
Soster
when I questioned.
Needier
when I looked too long
at a passage
they had not chosen.
Their threads tightened
not with pain,
but affection.
That made it harder.
Teeth were never
what kept me there.
XIV — THE BEAUTIFUL THINGS
I loved them.
There is no use
pretending otherwise.
I loved
the humming wings.
I loved
the warmth
os the glimmer threads
surrounding me.
I loved
how they gathered
when I was frightened.
They did care for me.
I knew that.
One slept
near the hollow
os my throat.
Another liked
to curl inside
my palm.
Sometimes
they brought me
glowing fruit
so I could forget
my hunger.
Sometimes
they told stories
about places
we had been.
Sometimes
they looked at me
as if I had always
belonged there.
Sometimes
I nearly agreed.
The cave was safer
with me inside it.
And they were scared too.
That was true.
But beneath
their tenderness,
beneath the warmth,
beneath mountains
of beautiful silver thread,
was the memory
os a beam of light
upon my cheek.
And behind it,
a reminder
os what was.
XIV — THE STONE
One day
I climbed.
The Glimmerfanes
sollowed.
Where are you going?
I didn’t answer.
Higher.
The cave wall
was rough
beneath my hands.
The threads tugged.
Warmly.
Some loosened.
You’ll hurt yourself.
Come down.
We can find
another way.
We need you here.
My heart began
to pound.
My knees began
to hurt.
I stopped.
Looked toward
a stone I had placed.
Breathed.
Waited.
Then climbed again.
At last
my fingers touched it.
The loose stone.
Something warm
lived on the other side.
A Glimmerfane
landed beside my hand.
Its tiny face
was frightened.
Its teeth showed.
Not in threat.
In fear.
Please.
I almost stopped.
Then I moved
the stone.
Light poured in.
Every Glimmerfane
cried out.
The threads
across my body
slashed white.
And for one terrible,
beautiful moment
I saw everything.
The web.
The maze.
The passages.
My stones.
The circles
I had walked.
The places
I had stopped
to repair
what was never mine.
The tiny creatures
I loved.
The entrance.
So close.
XVI — THE WAY
The opening
of the cave
was smaller
than I remembered.
I wondered
at how much
I had to bend
to fit inside.
Morning waited
on the other side.
Behind me,
the Glimmerfanes gathered.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
Their wings
filled the cave
with soft trembling.
The glimmer threads
across my skin
had loosened
into slack.
Still begging.
Still beautiful.
They whined
through little teeth.
You don’t have to go.
We still need you.
It is cold out there.
You are safe here.
One began to cry.
Another pressed
its face against
my wrist.
My heart answered them.
Os course it did.
I had loved them.
My body remembered
how safe
their nearness felt.
I almost turned.
Almost.
Then I looked
toward the light.
The vision os them
paled.
I took one step
toward it.
I breathed.
I waited.
The pull remained.
Part os me
remained with it.
Then I took
one more step.
A thread broke.
Softly.
Like hair
caught in the wind.
Another step.
Another thread.
Another.
Some clung longer.
Some broke
without sound.
Some seemed
to leave a little warmth
inside my skin.
I kept walking.
XVII — THE CAVE OF CURIOSITY
At the mouth
of the cave,
I turned once.
The Glimmerfanes
hovered in the dark.
Shimmering wings.
Tiny hands.
Beautiful faces.
Sharp white teeth.
They were still lovely.
That was never
the problem.
One raised
its hand.
I raised mine.
For a moment
I felt every glimmer thread
that had ever touched me.
Warmth.
Need.
Belonging.
Fear.
Love.
Confusion.
All braided together.
Then morning
caught the back
of my hair.
Warmth spread
across my shoulders.
I was still looking
at the Glimmerfanes.
For one breath,
I stood
between two kinds
of light.
Then one by one,
the threads went quiet.
I turned
and returned
to myself.
Sometimes
I remember the cave.
Sometimes
I remember
the glimmering threads.
Not enough
to pull me back.
Enough
to remember
where I had been.
