Scouts

Posted on by gmfx

“We should go back,” Lobu said, trying to sound decisive instead of scared, “fetch the warriors.”

“And attack travelers unprovoked?” Tayin replied, “You would break the second directive?”

“N-no,” Lobu stammered. “I . . . it’s just—”

“Those aren’t simple travelers,” Akiley interjected. She perched on a rock as still as a warding stone, watching the shapes moving below. “They’re monsters.”

“The look like people to me,” Tayin said, unable to keep the derision out of her voice.

“But their hall,” Lobu said uncertainly. “It—it flew! And it’s shaped just like . . .”

“Like Casket,” Tayin admitted. She had been as scared as anyone when that gleaming metallic form crashed through the sky with fire in its wake. But unlike most in her village, Tayin had actually visited Casket. All she had found there was a ruin. Now she knew what it had once been.

“They came from the darkness above,” Akiley spat. “What else could they be but monsters? Emissaries of the evil stars come to poison the Promised Land.”

Lobu was backing away, eyes wide. Akiley glared from her disdainful perch. Tayin shrugged. “Our ancestors came from the stars too.” she said. And she climbed down the ridge to greet her kin.

* * *

Story by Gregory M. Fox

Terra

Posted on by gmfx

I used to marvel at the way stars passed. Then galaxies began to fade into the distance. The universe, vast as it is, can still become tedium when I have to watch it pass alone.

I keep moving. I try to keep my promise

There are moments of brilliance of course. Not all wonder has been lost. Stars burst and are reborn. Nebulae swirl. Color and light. Void. Dust, debris, and emptiness.

Sometimes the darkness seems endless. Distant pinpricks of light offer little comfort, no matter what worlds may orbit around them. Still I move forward – until I reach new lands. Ground beneath my feet, air to breathe, a sky. A place where I can plant the seeds and try to keep my promise.

For all that I have seen, a sky can still be a vast and wondrous thing. In such moments of solidity, I can find myself. I can even begin to find meaning. I forget which stars I have visited, which galaxies I have abandoned. I see only a sea of new constellations that yet have no names. As life takes root, I write our story in the stars. I let myself remember.

I let myself hope.

* * *

Story by Gregory M. Fox