Her soul pulsing in the shadows of sleep, the girl lies in a shallow pool of dark water surrounded by stars on every side. She breathes in. She breathes out. Ancient energy flows through her body, a mystical power only a celestial could wield. Her four arms are spread out across the water beneath her. Her dark purple skin sheds a dim light. She is one with the universe. Soon, she hears a voice that is not her own.
Fili stellarum... Aperi oculos tuos.
She opens her eyes and looks up at the endless night sky. Silence now meets her ears. She waits. Nothing. She sighs and closes her eyes again. If she can empty her thoughts, perhaps she can reach out to the voice. Centering her senses on the cool water under her slender body, she opens her mind to the disembodied voice.
Potesne me audire?
"Yes. I hear you. Who are you?"
Meum nomen est Wrivin. Excita et potentiam tuam resera.
"How do I do so?" the girl says. No response. She sits up and shields her eyes as a blinding light shines down on her from above.
Bene vale.
"She's waking up!" a man's muffled voice calls from beyond the light. She guesses it is time to leave this plane.
***
Soon, the girl opens her eyes and slowly sits up. What happened? One minute she was in space in her vessel, The Carnation; the next she is here. How long was she out? Her head hurts. The fluorescent lights make her eyes sting. She looks at her hands, her vision slightly blurred. Instead of her normal dark purple skin, she is met with the fair, soft flesh of a human. Huh? Why did she shapeshift? She doesn't fear her rescuers. On the contrary: her species adores humans and their unique culture. She reflects on her studies: holidays, romantic rituals, arts and literature, languages, games and leisure, religion—how fascinating all of those subjects were! Why then did she transform? Could it have been instinct? She has no idea what humans know about her people, the Crierce. She shakes her head gently, clearing her mind, and looks up at the man and woman in front of her. She blinks. In their eyes, she has a slender, yet muscular frame with chin-length messy dark brown hair, and purple eyes with silver flecks.
"Oh, thank God you're all right," the man says. He breathes a sigh of relief. She tilts her head to one side, perplexed. "Oh, right," he says. "I should introduce myself. I'm Adam Graves. This is Violet Hallows. And you are...?"
"Non memini," the girl says. Adam looks at Violet. Wait, is that... Latin? Why is she speaking a dead language? At least, no one on Earth speaks it anymore. He has no idea about the rest of the galaxy. Could humans have brought Latin back to life?
"Huh?" Adam says. "I'm sorry, I can't understand you."
"She does not remember," Violet says. Suddenly, the girl realizes the problem.
"Oh. Sorry... You do not speak that language, do you?" she asks in a low, husky voice.
"I'm afraid I don't."
"Ah. Now you understand. English, yes?"
"Correct. It's the human galactic standard."
"Very well. I will continue to speak English. As your companion stated, I had said before that I do not remember my name."
"Oh. You... don't?" Adam asks. She shakes her head. A wave of dizziness overcomes her
when she does, so she stops.
"Unfortunately, no." She pauses. "I am sorry."
"No need to apologize. Seems that the crash must've done more damage to you than
YOU ARE READING
The Red Machine
Science FictionWhen an alien shapeshifter crashes on Xindyria, she has little idea what to expect. Although she and her people revere humans, she has never met any face-to-face until now. After she wakes up in a laboratory with memory loss, she meets Adam Graves a...
