Guide Us to the Other Side

CHAPTER TWO: Venture

Without the starlight, their moon did not shine. The sphere of light in the sky was now a husk, hardly ever serving its purpose to tell the time. In their chests, they no longer carried brilliant jewels. Rather they came to be gray, dull rocks, a heavy thing that weakened along with their strength.

Shifting uncomfortably in the cloak he wore, he looked back at his grandfather with a pinch in his brows. Contrary to the rest of Moebius, he shone a luminous azure hue, radiating with light just as it had when he was younger, as though it were a beacon. Calling unwanted awareness. It wasn't his fault that he was somehow able to maintain his core, but he understood that it meant he would exist much longer than everyone else.

With the light taken, the life expectancy had plummeted by over ten years, the elderly fragile and immune systems at their lowest. The stars were what his people lived by, all following the constellations like maps, getting their vitality from them.

It was their religion and it was their life. Now, there was nothing left to live by, and they didn't have long. Yet he would exude energy. This meant he would have to bear seeing his people perish around him without being able to do anything.

"It feels like you're stifling me out," he commented, uncomfortable with the cloak suffocating him.

"You can't go out without it, you know how it is," Alcador sighed, taking a seat at the dinner table.

Of course, he did understand what he meant, the glares of disdain and jealousy he got every time he left home. How they would step aside and murmur in one another's ears at the markets, the general avoidance. They envied what he had, and looking at the boy was only a reminder of what everyone missed. It wasn't fair to him, that he happened to have such "luck" and stability.

"I'll be back soon," Strive let out, keeping his basket close as he nudged the door open.

The trudge to the marketplace was a silent one, his blue orbs stuck to the cracks across the ground, rather than the few moebians populating their village. His azul gaze followed the dreary stems breaking through the rugged bricks, the groundwork that had long ago been left to the elements.

His boots drug against the rough and uneven paths as he paid no heed to the few eyes cast in his direction or the few passing bodies brushing past his, mind already wandering far ahead of him. Leaning his head up, he swept away some of his locks to stare up at the barren sky above them.

The syn was directly above their heads, midway through its passing for the day. The orb was close enough for him to distinguish the craters and bumps that sculpted the moon's surface. How such a massive object could be so near yet still beyond his grasp mesmerized him.

Maybe it was the fact that he wished they'd someday land on it, and finally know for sure that there was life beyond their secluded world, or how just leaving his planet's surface would be a feat in itself. It wouldn't be the first time one had attempted to escape their drab rock.

It was years ago when his little hands were tightly clasped together against his chest as he watched Sanairah secure the golden helmet under her chin. Her lengthy hair that usually reached far down to her lower back was tucked away, the luscious strands that hardly left her shoulder bound. Out in the plain fields, she had constructed a wonder of her own. A ship, proudly planted in the dirt. She hadn't done it alone, of course.

Tretchor had been the main assistant in this insane mission of hers as a master of craftsmanship, machinery, robotics, and the like. He too was pleased to have his name put to the ship with one of his closest friends. Had it not been for him, Moebius wouldn't be functioning half as well as it does.

There were no stars to illuminate their sky or make the flowers blossom, but Sanairah radiated light of her own, casting it outward through the lovely smile she wore. Confident, unwavering, and determined. He can hardly recall what she must've said to him on that day, only the ghost of her warm hands against his cheeks and how proud of her invention she was.