Aran

Star Child

The mouth of the pyramid was adorned with carved statues made from the walls of the cavernous opening. Overgrowth had made its way along the outside features and the green webbing of life crept into the shadowy depths till there was no natural light to feed off of. The brown and gray stone the structure was made of seemed alien to the wilderness it struck through. It some how refused to sink after the eons it seemed to had existed on the wet plot of land it was built on. All along the bricks and boulders were carvings, ornately drawing or writing a story of the stars. Every section of the pyramid told a different story. For the time the child had been there she had only read half way through the length of the base's tale. She would get lost in the amazing stories of her mother's people and the history they had.

She leaped down to the jungle's floor, her wispy body slid through the web of boughs and leaves. For several meters she fell, her golden hair pulled away from her sticky body and made the top half of her look like a golden rod. And with just as much guile as she had done when creeping along the canopy she did so with landing on the wet floor. Her feet touched the ground and she could feel the muddy soil give a little underneath her speeding body. Her hand pressed to the floor to ease her immediate descent and as if such a thing was so human she lifted herself back to her two feet and entered the stony mouth.

The innards of the structure smelled like pitch and brass, a stony-fire sort of smell with the hint of soldering. The depths became completely black, but her eyes adjusted quickly. Soon the walls of sandy-brown became gray and white and far off, reflecting off the passageway's furthest corner was an amber plume of light, the faintest of lights. The caverns of the temple were always black with few fires underneath glass decorated bulbs along the passageways. Her family had little requirement of light, the bulbs were placed there when they had arrived for her benefit.

She whistled and smacked her lips in a hiss and pop sound, "Mother?" She called out to the darkness. Her voice rippled and bounced along the shadowy walls.

"This way, child." Came from a second or third hall. Carefully she stepped along the cold floor, her hand sliding along the mortar-less brick walls as she turned and came to a wide opening in the structure. There, with her eyes, she saw the features of her family that surrounded the opening of the large room. They looked like statues with large almond eyes that took up most of their face, if it could be called a face. The eyes stared and never blinked, they had no details like hers, just ominous round gazes. Between them was a long beak that never moved, even as they whispered their songs. They had no neck and they'd point out the fact many times by affectionately calling her long-neck. Their shoulders were wide and thick and would move as a single plank. From their shoulders hung long tattered curtains that contained the rest of them. She had never seen what was below and it was rare to ever see her family move. They would often simply be in different rooms throughout the day. When she did see them move they waddled too-and-fro with their single-jointed shoulders brushing against the walls.

She stepped to the entrance of the room and stared along the walls. Her entire family had to of been occupying the room. Her gaze shot upwards and along the higher walls were more rows of the endless gazes. More rows even higher still were more of her family. All of them certainly were there by the looks of it. "Child." They all whispered, the collective voices formed a beautiful song.

She had never seen them all collected so. She stared in amazement.

"Come." Another song that formed in the bellows of the room. She obeyed and stepped more into the room, she turned about slowly with each step to see them all, she smiled when her gaze rested back to the floor level and before her was her mother. Even the pink she wore could still be seen in the pitched shadows.

"Mother," Her song had more pops and slurs to it than her family. They seemed to actually form words instead of long hums like her family. "What is all this?" She had a bright smile on, but still she was confused.

"Child." Only her mother spoke, "You are nearly mature." Though the gaze of her mother showed nothing she could feel the whimpers in the song. The emotional typhoon that welled in her. "Soon, you will be the Meteron."

She stared back blankly, "But the suit was lost to the last evacuation."

The armor of her mother shook as if to shake her head, "Lost, no." She sang, "It remains where it last was."

"But..." Her lips puckered and then sucked into her mouth so that she could bite them. She knew what was to come. They had not allowed her to become complacent, they told her what she was to be. What her past was. Who they, her adoptive family, was.

"Easy, we must not fuss. Not now." Her mother stood stiff as the child pressed herself against her. Her arms latched onto her mother's shoulders and the large shoulders held her weight. Though the statuesque form of her mother did not embrace her back, it was hard to know if she ever could, but the soft sighing coo of her mother was the warmth that wrapped around her. "Child of the Song," She sang into her ear, her name, the name they all sang when they called upon her.

"Child of the Song." The heavier song came from a row up and behind her. The familiar whipping voice of the Speaker. "We haven't the time to coddle." He was abrasive, but she was not a fool either, there mustn't be any time if they all had gathered.

She let go of her mother and stepped back nodding and turned to face the speaker. A similar set of eyes and large frame stood in the wall above. "Remember?"

"I do."

"Good." He paused and then the chorus of them all sang, "Farewell, star child."

It all seemed too fast for her. She turned around and reached for her mother and in her best attempt she sang for her, "Mother!" She cried, her hand clawed at the air, but the hum of the chorus vibrated through her and seemed to rip her away.

There was a blinding light that came from the heavens above and she could see them all. Brightly golden with all sorts of colors and gems of her entire family that were like statues pinned to the endless high walls. "No!" She screamed and she tried to step out of the pillar of light, but she couldn't seem to move. Even with her incredible strength she couldn't seem to make any significant attempt. Her feet pushed into the ground and the stone floor crumbled underneath her step, but still she was caged in the roar of the light.

"No!" She yelled in her native tongue, a harsh language that could never be a song. A language that ached her family. She could hardly remember much of it, she could never practice it, but they always encouraged her to never forget it. To practice it when she was out about the wilds. "Mother!" Again, as if cursing in the foul language, she screamed. The humming only got louder and the light made them all vanish in the white shaft of light.