The Northern Lights

by Marco Cortes

A gentle whirring sound through the room as Leopold sat in his high chair, legs up on the studio table. He had spent the last hour combing through the code of his game while the rest of the school slept on the lower floor dorms. The tower they lived in had been their home. The Tallinn Arts Academy was a benchmark of technological expression, redefining art to focus on products of technology. Leopold had focused on arts back in the States, which allowed him to become an exchange student of the academy, and even class president. 

It was all a blur to him, though. There were more pressing matters to attend to, such as his aching back. He stood up and walked to the window, which stretched from one end of the art hall to the other. Leopold was showered in a wonderful green hue as he looked into the ribbons of light from the north. He decided to head down to the garden. It was amazing, really. An extension to the academy that hung hundreds of feet in the air, complete with classrooms and a courtyard. What a waste, thought Leopold, that it wasn’t a tech garden. That would have been fitting. 

Leopold raised his wrist and checked his holographic watch. Nearly midnight. Everything was shades of purple and green as Leopold sat on the turf and looked into his watch, pondering. His hand fidgeted, and his chest felt tight. So long as he was away from his computer, he felt worthless. He had so many expectations for himself that he felt useless in rest. 

Leopold shot up, sick of the feeling and ready to work. He was reaching for the door when he heard a howling sound. He turned to face the source, noticing that it was the old set of wooden doors that are normally locked shut, now slightly ajar.

Curious, Leopold slid past the door, and went down the unfamiliar hallway. It was old, but awesome in appearance. To the right, it was an open corridor that overlooked the Baltic Sea and the northern lights in perfect clarity. To the left, workbench after workbench, all clean except for a few at the end. They were littered with all sorts of different items that Leopold couldn’t identify from afar. As Leopold approached, he instinctively reached for his headphones to put some music on. Resisting was like being pricked like needles. He paused, and shivered from this pain of his urge. His sound craving was harsh, but he knew he had well overplayed his playlist.

“Leo? You alright?”

A familiar voice jolted Leopold out of his craving. Standing behind him while wiping his washed hands was Manfred Birch, another student who wasn’t exactly popular. He and Leopold hadn’t been on the best of terms for the past month after an altercation between the two.

“Yeah… I’m good. What’re you doing up here at this hour, Manny?”

Manfred scoffed and rolled his eyes. “What, you’re gonna have me banned from coming up here after hours, President Yeran?”

Leopold sighed in frustration. “Listen, I’m sorry about what I said in Professor Leyor’s class. Alright? I didn’t think you cared for the garden that much.”

Manfred clenched his jaw, looking to the workbench. “Sure, fine. It’s all good until you’re wrong, right? I have work to do.”

Manfred started for his workbench, picking up a chisel and small block of wood.

“What’s that?”, Leopold asked, pointing to the chisel.

“It’s a wood chisel.”, Manfred said, “Watch.”

Manfred drew a quick shape into the wood. He then picked up the chisel and began cutting away from the wood in small ribbons. In a few minutes, the shape aligned with the drawing, and he held a roughly carved wooden chess piece.

Leopold tilted his head and widened his eyes. He had read about sculpting and whatnot in his art history books, but had never seen any crafted sculptures. Leopold scratched his nose in thought and placed his hand on the table, ripping it away after immediately getting three splinters. 

“I’ll tell you what, Manny. Your work is awesome. I want to offer you a spot in the open gallery this month. Get some studio recruiters interested.”

Manfred darted his face to make eye contact with Leopold.

“You’re serious?” He was taken aback.

“Of course man. It’d be a shame for your talent to go to waste.”, Leopold said as he sat atop the next table to face the northern lights.

Manfred turned to face the lights, too, nodding softly. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

The vibrant green hue of the northern lights showered the two. Manfred instinctively chipped away at a spare bit of wood while Leopold clutched his watch, both ignoring their habits to look off into the rare view.

The End