My “Metaphor Mastery”

Been a minute! Going to try and post here more often. 2025 is my year. 

This is a little project I worked on last term in one of my college courses, in which we learned how to “master” metaphors. This particular piece is the final product. Trying to survive the cold, dodging malformed creatures, and meeting unlikely friends in a never ending cave where heat and humanity are worth everything. Let me know if you’d like to see more of this world!

Happiness is warmth inside of a never-ending cave, and you carry a candle of kindness, holding it close to your heart and fostering its bright heat.

Happiness, although comforting, is demanding. The fire of kindness is hard to keep lit in the cruelty of the cave. A suitable although much weaker substitution for the warmth fire brings is the privilege of fabric. However, even with a gloved hand, the stone is still icy to the touch from behind the thinner fabrics. 

As you wander aimlessly through the dark cave, you hear the sounds of the Frozen roaming, scratching against the stone and groaning in fearful agony. One, drawn by your light, edges slowly towards you.

You try to avert your eyes, but something about their misery draws your gaze. It’s nearly naked, save for a faded blue scarf, with dreadfully pale skin and eyes fogged from so much time in the dark. They clutch their flameless candle in bitter hands, their fire lost for one reason or another, and outstretch it towards you.

You consider the proposition of lighting its candle, but you know the risk. The Frozen can often be a cruel bunch. They could snatch away your candle to steal it for themselves, possibly because they know that their wick is too enveloped in the cold wax for heat to melt through, so instead they will take advantage of your kindness and generosity. When fighting over the light, the fire goes out, leaving the thief and the bold indistinguishable and bitter in the dark. If you decided to keep your little fire, no one would blame you, although hiding your fire behind a regretful hand still leaves a shadow, one the Frozen are sure to follow.

However, noticing the small embering of this Frozen’s wick, you take the risk this time and extend your flame. It licks away at the wax until it reaches the wick, and with the extra fuel, the flame grows tenfold. Then it splits, and the Frozen slowly pulls their new flame close to their chest. You watch as the colour slowly returns to their face. They smile at the warmth. They look up at you with the fire reflecting in their now-determined eyes, and walk back into the dark tunnels they crept out of. With your flame brighter than ever, you continue walking through the cave. 

You’ve never seen this far before, and you realize you’re walking with so much heat that you might even break a sweat. However, though you stride proudly with your bright light, it’s impossible not to notice that the cave around you seems even darker to your less adjusted eyes. 

Then, you see a dim light across the cave. You move towards it, hoping that perhaps it could be your new friend, or maybe another wanderer. 

That’s when you hear the moans of many, and remember the cave hides many more horrors than just the Frozen. As a large shadow stretches out, you rush behind a stone and attempt to hide your fire. You peek around and watch as a shambling creature covered in seemingly never-ending layers of cloth, hobbles out of the tunnel, with no candle of its own. Instead, it is lit by the dozens of embering ones following it. The Coated is a truly evil creature, using the dying candles of its follower’s flames to light their path. It couldn’t handle a candle even if it wanted to, as its fat and sweaty hands are much too damp to hold one without it slipping out of its grasp. You watch as the Coated pinches specks of lint off its silk scarf and throws it to its followers, listening to the wail of the Embering as they groggily dive and fight amongst themselves for the jumbled thread. The Coated laughs and you can almost feel the saliva-soaked cotton in its throat. You may shake your head in dismay at the thought of fawning behind that jolly miscreation and fighting for its scraps, but when found in their situation, you can’t be sure you wouldn’t do the same. 

You turn to get away, but in your haste, you knock into a pillar of granite. Its tremor reverberates throughout the chasm. The fighting and wailing stop suddenly, and all you hear is the shuffle of the Coated’s fabric, as they all turn to look at you. There’s a moment of deafening silence.

Then you dash into the dark. Sprinting as fast as you can into the cave, you hear the Coated gurgle a command and the embering followers chase after you, their desperation for cloth urging them on.   

It is almost like the cave itself is working against you as you run through long stalactites. You do your best to get away, but weaving through a dark cave filled with obstacles that seem made to trap, you trip. You hit the cold surface, and you watch as the cold stone seems to devour all the warmth from your flame as it follows you down. 

Then it’s just you, the cold, and the dark. You paw at the ground searching for your candle, but you can already feel the icy floor numb your fingers, slowly chilling your insides. Even with your eyes adjusting to the dark, the shapes you see do not bring the solace of recognition, but rather an eerie disconnect, as if you’ve travelled to a completely different portion of the cave. 

Then, a blinding light and the shuffling of many feet. It must be the Coated, come to use what’s left of your warmth! You shield your eyes and scream, bracing for the sweaty palms to wrap around your skin. 

Instead, something else wraps around your neck. Soft and warm. You open your eyes, and even before they adjust you recognize the faded blue scarf as it drapes over your shoulders, along with the familiar and kind face of the scarf's old owner. Behind him are many others, all holding candles, huddled together and sharing the warmth. Then the familiar one hands you something, a candle, your candle. You take it and feel the warmth of your friend’s hand still embedded in the wax, and as they tap their fire onto your wick, lighting your candle with a brand new flame, your hopelessness melts away into a puddle reflecting a bright blue sky you’ve never seen before.