Bright Blue Fireflies

"Does this one look like an alien to you?" She looks at his black eye while he lays on the ground, among rocks and dirt, with buzzing insects all over his face. "The cloud?" "It really does look like an alien." "I don't see it." He seems disappointed. "How could you?" He tries to move his fingers first, then all the rest of his body. "We should move. The ceremony starts in a few hours." "What's the point?" "All children have to attend the ceremony." He squeezes his eyes, slowly touching the black one. "Does it hurt?" "Only when I blink." "Humans usually blink twenty thousand times a day." "That's a lot of pain." That makes her smile. Rovo gathers his things scattered on the ground, violently putting them all in his backpack, almost breaking the zipper. "They didn't go easy on you. I'm sorry I couldn't do anything." "That's okay. I should have seen it coming." "The elders will help you find another clan. They don't deserve you." "But I don't want them to choose for me. I want my old clan!" "Do they want you?" Far from them, an ancient city is sitting on top of a canyon, sticking out from a sea made of sand. It's their destination, and it's waiting for them.

Walking under the sun on a sandstone path, Rovo envies the old rusty aircrafts that are flying lower on the desert, public transports carrying all kinds of people from all over the region. He watches one landing, letting some passengers offboard. "They must be so lucky." "As you are." she whispers. "But I don't need that: see how every piece is falling apart?" The girl watches an old masked lady shouting incomprehensible things to the pilot, complaining about his questionable driving skills. Rovo stops and turns to his friend. "I think I have all the symptoms now." "Are you ill?" "I'm now suffering from a very serious illness." "I don't sense anything wrong with you, beside the contusions from the fight. You should see a real doctor for further information." "I'm talking about my pirate eye." "You mean your black eye?" "No!" He points to his other eye, tightened from the sun. "I look like a pirate now, the ones from the stories." "Do pirates have only one eye?" "No..." "I don't understand." Every now and then, some other people walk by them. All covered in long, silky clothes, only their feathers can be seen, sticking out from their sleeves and hoodies. "Are they all going there?" "Nobody should miss the festival." Rovo wears much simpler clothes, without all those bird-like adornment. Here is the first checkpoint: a giant pillar made of stone, guarded by a tall thin man, masked with a vulture skull and a dark grey feathered coat. The boy stops in front of him, staring at the empty socket of his mask. "This is the only way in." she whispers in Rovo's ear. The guard kneels down to him. "Mark. Please." "Right." He grabs his backpack, opens the smaller pocket, and then all the others, emptying it on the ground. "I don't have it." "You could have left it where I found you." The guard moves and goes back to his place in silence. "Can we pass through anyway?" "No." "But I must be there for the festival!" "Don't we all?" Rovo sits on the ground, right in front of the entrance. "I'm not moving until you let us in." "We?" "Yeah." "Not without your mark." "I will bring it here, I swear!" "I said no." He then stares again, people waiting behind him gets closer to see what's happening. Some are betting on who will look away first, others complain about wanting to get inside as soon as possible. "What?" His voice makes the boy's organs shake. "I'm basically a hostage now, the elders will exile you for that." "The elders ordered me to not let in random wanderers like you." "I live here!" "Bring your mark and prove it." "But I don't have time!" "Time is not a problem for me." "You are slowly killing me right now." "What's that supposed to mean?" "By wasting my time, I'm aging right now." "I could wait uncountable years to fulfill my duty. Begone now."

"Stupid guard." "Language." "But it's true! What is he guarding, anyway? A rock?" "That's the pillar of creation. What remains of the old world, a piece left to remember what gave us the resources to build a new one." "That's deep. How come you always know everything?" "I was made for this." "What do we do now?" The girl opens a transparent pad with her fingers, projecting a map of the area on the ground. "Oh, you never did that before!" "I never had reason to." "What are you looking for?" "Another way around. Here." She taps twice to zoom the blue hologram. "See?" "That's the scrapyard. I'm not going there." "You have no other option if you want to attend the ceremony." "I don't want to." "But you have to." Rovo sits on a small orange and layered rock, drawing scribbles on the sand. "You really don't want to go there, don't you?" "Is it true what they say? That I won't see you again?" "Who told you that?" "Some children from my clan." "Ex clan." "Yeah..." They both look at the drawings of different aircrafts. "I don't want you to leave." "You all have to grow. You are no different."