Prism Light
By: Elizabeth Eugene
Tags: Mystery, Steampunk, Fiction, Fantasy, Flash Fiction

“Ahh, welcome! Come on in, now. If you’re here, you’re right where you need to be,” said a rugged, kind-looking man who was arranging boxes in the corner.

“Huh?” responded Marlena. “I was just on the street and saw your door.”

“Yes. Yes. But you entered. You cannot enter unless you see the door.”

“I don’t understand. Of course I saw it.”

He paused. “Very few people see it.”

Marlena stared at the shopkeeper, at least she thought he was a shopkeeper. The interior was clean but sparse. Jars lined the shelves. What appeared to be iron-forged tools were leaning against a wall next to a row of hooks with industrial aprons. It looked more like a workshop than a store.

“What are you selling?” she asked.

“Depends on what you want.”

That voice. It was warm, embracing, and Marlena felt the hint of a dare. What did she want? She had no idea. She wanted to change her life, that’s what she wanted, but she wasn’t about to say that out loud.

“I want something unusual. Something I’ve not seen before.”

“Hmmmm, let me think on that for a moment,” he said, thoughtfully scratching his dusky, unruly hair.

As the shopkeeper went about his business, Marlena began to look around. She gravitated to the bottles. An opaque one had the tiniest sound of tinkling coming from the inside. She reached to pick up a short, squat one, as dark as ebony. It wouldn’t budge. Another caught her eye. Unlike the others, this one was clear and contained a creamy, swirling mass of silver. Glowing slightly, it was like a magnet to her. Marlena reached for it …

“Don’t touch that!”

“What is it?”

“It’s purified moonlight. No saying what the effect will have on you. Lunacy. Vampirism. Lycanthropy. Or if you’re fortunate, drunkenness. Promiscuity. Those are the fun ones.”

Marlena shrugged off his tales. “You can get a moonlight tincture at any decent apothecary. I’ve used it before.”

“No. That stuff is crap,” said the shopkeeper, his pale eyes growing intense. “I don’t mess around with junk. That moonlight you’re looking at, I harvested it myself,” he said, jerking his chin towards the tools in the corner. “Look, I know exactly what you need. It’s why you saw the door. More than that,” his voice lowered, “It’s why you entered.”

He paused before pulling another bottle from below the counter. His voice got even quieter.

“Have you ever seen blue?”

Marlena gasped. Discussing prism light wasn’t exactly forbidden, but no one did it. And here was this man, a man she just met, asking her outright about blue. She couldn’t help herself. She was intrigued.

“I’ve heard it’s like a glass of water after you’ve eaten too many crackers.”

He smiled at her. A genuine smile. Gentle and yet slightly sad. He put his finger to his lips.

Marlena could hardly breathe in anticipation, let alone speak.

Strong, capable hands caressed the cork from the bottle. Moving slowly, he carefully tipped it.

Out poured the most incredible, beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was pure light. She had no words for it. It was summertime rain, ice, every shade of fresh and every sound of a rushing river. It was amazing.

“Prism light?”

“Blue.”

Photo by Adrien Ledoux on Unsplash

The light spread across the counter, dripped down the side and began to dissipate.

“We could get into a lot of trouble for this,” gasped Marlena.

“I know. Come back tomorrow and I’ll show you orange. But now, you need to go, because I have work to do.”

Now it was Marlena’s turn to smile. “Thank you.”

“It’s why I’m here,” he said, walking over to the door. “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

Marlena stepped across the threshold, back into winter. A few steps down the street she turned around, but the door was gone. She wasn’t worried. It would be there tomorrow. After all, she had a date with the extraordinary.