Fiddler walked in the cold and darkness down the street to meeting. He searched for the purple and blue blinking lights, and when he found them, went onward in that direction. The only thing he knew was that those lights would be what he was keeping his eyes on. He couldn't see the ground, so he slowly moved across the land, making sure there was no place where he'd fall. He carried a walkie-talkie on one side and a two-ended flashlight on the other. Not that either actually functioned for their original purposes. No, it was to alert others that he was around, so they would know the direction of which he came and how many others were in the area he was at that moment. He only had to hope that no one was hiding out to attack him, for it would be hard to react timely and properly in the pitch black.

Luckily for Fiddler, he reached the building with the blinking spotlights. A single white light above him signaled the location of the entryway. He was careful not to step into any stairs as he approached the doorway. He reached out for the door to feel it. It was indeed a double door with windows. Proud that he managed to make it to the place he actually planned to go, Fiddler let his hands sound out a powerful and confident knock.

There was a noise of a lock disengaging, and then the sound of a squeaking door.

"Hello there. Whom might you be?" The man in the darkness said in a slow, hushed voice. It almost gave Fiddler chills.

"Hello, sir." Fiddler said. "Fiddler, sir." He saluted the man. It became a vain attempt at respect when he realized that he couldn't see his gesture.

"Fiddler, come right in." He offered.

He walked carefully to avoid bumping into the doorkeeper. "Wait." The man said. Fiddler stopped right then, wondering what he wanted. The man then began to hand him something. "Hold on to this so I can guide you to where we need to go."

Fiddler at first hesitated, but decided to trust the man and reached out to find a rope. He gripped it tightly, ignoring the sharp strands that stuck out of it and poked his skin. He heard the man begin to stroll across the foyer. His movement made odd clanking noises against the tile floor, which Fiddler figured were the old pieces that had fallen out of their places.

Lots of things have fallen apart since the lights faded, and physical objects seemed to be the least of anyone's expectations.

However, the average temperatures have dropped significantly, from around -229 Celsius to about -235 Celsius, so maybe the extended cold affected more than just the Rugens (the planetary inhabitants of Soarengar). The fear of the cold has brought minor hysteria to some communities. Some even feared it would go way below the lowest temperatures, past -240 Celsius. Fiddler missed the warm summer days of his youth already, but most of all he missed being able to see the world around him. While he was grateful that he could at least hear well, not having any sight made everything more difficult for everyone. He felt particularly bad for those who had to depend on sight because of their lack of hearing. He couldn't imagine what they must have been going through.

Fiddler pondered this as he followed closely behind in the void of darkness. When they reached an opening, a room that was a little warmer than the rest of the building, he could sense the bodies in the room. He started to hear the sound of quiet breaths alternating in timing on his sides. The man who had led him brought out a chair from, what Fiddler assumed, was a table. As he pushed Fiddler, motioning him to sit down, his guess was correct. A large, slick tabletop was to his right. The man pushed the chair over to face the table. Fiddler sat there quietly, placing his elbows on the surface before him.

One more person showed up, then the meeting commenced. Another man, who must have been at the far end of the room opposite to Fiddler, cleared his throat before speaking. "Greetings fellow members, is our newest member, Lancey, here?"

"Aye." A small voice came from the other end of the room.

"Welcome, I am Nix. Happy we are that you have joined us."

The room responded with "Happy we are!"

"How many do we have today?" Nix asked.

I felt another person touch my shoulder. "Twelve." The woman behind me said.

"Splendid." The man said with a dash of malevolence. Fiddler couldn't help but be suspicious of the strangers leading this, but figured it was more likely his clouded judgement taking over. Ever since the lights dimmed and the Sun star hovered over everyone but never gave them the bright blue sky, he stopped trusting. Fiddler had become another victim of an unpredictable universe. Even the moons had seemingly disappeared from the skies. Fiddler couldn't trust anything anymore, but he definitely couldn't trust people anymore than himself. Who knows, maybe he was slowly going insane just as everyone else was. Maybe keeping the last of his sanity was an impossible task.

But he was willing to try and be level, calm, and collected in his actions, just like he was before all this happened. A mature adult, unlike many of the people now in his life. He couldn't just lock himself in a room and die slowly, like his family was doing, he had to do something about this whole mess!

Maybe Fiddler couldn't actually do anything about the situation, but he could at least try in the best way he knew how: a democratic way. One that would hopefully bring awareness to the people of Soarengar, and show them that people actually cared enough about finding the truth that they would protest against the leaders who were currently shoving the problem off as though nothing terrible was going down. Liars! They knew perfectly well that there was a problem. Their days were just as troubled by the darkness. In the end, they were just like everyone else: fearful beings living every day in a frightening new place.

Fiddler couldn't be more hopeful, and more scared, for the future of his world. Perhaps it was where everyone in the universe was going to end up at some point: on a desolate, cold rock with land soon unsuitable for life floating out in the middle of space and time.

He could only hope that it wasn't the case.