Candlewick

The tunnel was humid, the sound of dripping water echoing throughout the space we were now silently traversing. The Candlemaker led the way, walking briskly as a breeze causes the flames of the candles on the walls to swivel. "Were you the one who made this tunnel?" I ask, to which I only see him nod as response. My eyes fall on Anthony who was examining the walls with peculiar interest. "There's also another thing I wanted to ask." I try to push my luck, the questions swirling around in my mind were many but only one of them bugged me the most.

The Candlemaker abruptly stops and looks at me, as if gesturing for me to proceed. The words fumble out of my mouth without thinking. "Gretel and Hansel, were they the same ones that brought me here?"

I feel Anthony's head snap towards me and I understand his confusion. I'm confused as well. The Candlemaker however, does not seem surprised by the sudden question. He puts his hand into the inner pocket of his suit and pulls out a small etching tool which he puts on his cheek. With slow movements, he carves out a mouth for himself, the excess wax falling onto the wet cavern floor. "You… are… correct…" He spoke with a raspy voice, each syllable heavily emphasized. "Time… flows… differently… here…"

The Candlemaker extends out a hand and grabs one of the candles wedged into the rocks, its wick was now extremely short, its flame was now giving out. A photograph of an old woman, most likely in her last years, appears faintly from within the flames of the candle. "I… am… an observer…" A small part of the wall, one where there were no candles present, suddenly disintegrates into a small broken window showing the entrance of the manor from where we entered. "Look…" I peer out from it with Anthony doing the same, and I saw something that boggled me out of my mind. I was looking at myself, lying on the ground spitting the river water that almost drowned me. Gretel and Hansel were there, the ones that I knew.

"I don't understand." I say, confusion setting in within my gut as I stare at the events that happened earlier before I came here unfold in front of me.

"I am… a servant…" He waves his hand in front of the opening and it is once again nothing but a wall. "Time… is my master…" The Candlemaker then proceeds to continue leading us towards the tunnel, no longer speaking as I realize that we were somehow stuck at a certain point in the past within the manor. If these candles were the lives of people, does that mean that my candle exists here too?

We enter a dark clearing that resembled the insides of a dome, a narrow path overlooking a huge cliff that seemed to resemble a junkyard. Instead of junk, there piles of dead candles scattered throughout, probably reaching up to millions as more pour from the dark ceiling. The path was barely visible but the light that the torch was providing was more than sufficient enough. My eyes are fixated on the candles that were scattered below us, some of them taller than others.

"Where are we heading exactly?" Anthony asks, following swiftly behind the tall Candlemaker. He doesn't get a respond as we find ourselves facing a dead end.

"Close… your eyes…" He says in a very polite tone. I feel the weariness of Time from him, the countless hours from the past, the present, and the future all summed up into one being. My eyes close and I feel the ground rumble for a bit, followed almost instantly by complete silence. I feel a bright light up against my closed eyelids as I open them slowly to find ourselves in a forest illuminated by day. Anthony was standing beside me, his face just as bewildered as I was. The Candlemaker was nowhere to be found, the only sounds around us were the rustling of the wildlife and the fluttering of the birds above.

"This doesn't look right." Anthony speaks and we suddenly hear footsteps from behind the tree in front of us. "Who are you?"

"I'm going to ask you the same thing. Who the hell are you?" A man emerges from behind the tree, a huge wooden bow aimed straight towards us. "Trust me, you don't want to take the bet with that tiny gun of yours." He looked rough, his beard unkempt and his long scrunchy hair was all over the place.

I put my pistol down, somehow knowing that this man meant no harm towards us. "Anthony, at ease." I watch him, still eyeing the man in front of us as he obeys my command. "We don't mean any trouble."

He rests his hold on the bow and lowers it, reaching an unfocalized agreement between us. "I'm guessing you're not one of my wife's henchmen? Seeing you're still mostly intact." Wife? He gestures with his head for us to follow him, his demeanour emanating urgency. "Come. We don't want to be out here when night falls."

I don't doubt him. We quickly make haste as Anthony and I watch him traverse through the terrain with agility. We barely keep up with the man as he takes a sharp turn into the side of a huge towering cliff, the small entrance was easy to miss as it blended it with the vegetation around it.

Within it was a small rugged bunker, containing lots of hunting tools and a bed made out of dead bushes bundled up together to make the makeshift mattress. He pulls out a box from underneath it and motions for us to take a seat, which we do gratefully as our legs were most likely begging for us to take a break. "I assume you guys belong to the Office?" As he finishes his question, he shows his arm, sporting a similar tattoo to what he had, albeit a bit less detailed. A Watchman? "Tell me everything, I might be able to help you."