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Stardust (Part 1)

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She woke up drenched in cold sweat. Her body was trembling and she wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to calm down. It was that dream again. That dream that had plagued her for as long as she could remember.

Stardust. That's all that remains, she thought, as the image of the man dissolving into nothingness appeared behind her lids.

"Stardust," she whispered aloud, opening her eyes and peeking at the world outside from the window to her right.

Moonlight pooled into the room from the open window. A little of the sky was visible from where she was, and she peeked from under her arms.

The galaxy was still visible, in all it's magnificence, like glitter sprinkled on the velvety blackness of the night sky. It moved as she watched, swirling in patterns she had memorised years ago, moving in and out at the same time, claiming the sky, swallowing it,...

"Stardust," she whispered again, staring at the mass of moving stars as she wondered what it would be like to be one with those little specks of silver, floating away into nothingness.....

                                                    *

Yara awoke the next morning to the sound of pounding footsteps from overhead. She groaned and turned over in her bed, smashing her face into her pillows to muffle the sound. She hadn't had a proper sleep the night before, what with her weird recurring nightmare and she wasn't planning on getting out of bed a minute before noon. It wasn't like she had somewhere to be or anything. It was one of the very few perks of being "in between jobs".

That didn't stop her loud and obnoxious neighbours from having a life, though and she was usually awoken, much against her will, at day-break by either the sound of Mrs. Next-door yelling at her children or that of Mr and Mrs. Apartment-underneath fighting or...

The thumping resumed, now louder , and with a growl, Yara threw her pillow as hard as she could at the ceiling yelling, "KEEP. IT. DOWN," before jumping out of bed.

She didn't know who lived upstairs. Except that they made a whole lot of noise every waking moment of every day (and sometimes during nights, too which made Yara very awkward and uncomfortable in her own home). She hated that.

But, she had no choice but to endure this...hell. This place was all she could afford after she'd quit her job a couple of months ago. She sometimes regretted her choice...especially mornings like these, but....she knew she couldn't go back to that place.

She sighed, eyeing her wild hair and dark circles with dejection, as she passed the mirror in her bathroom. She couldn't remember the last time she'd looked half-presentable to the outside world.

Losing her job had sent her spiralling down an abyss. It didn't help that she always felt as if there was someone watching her. Ever if it was in her tiny dilapidated brick apartment of a home. Even her recurring nightmare had appeared far more than usual the past couple of days.

"You're alone. And you have no job. This is you going crazy. So get your shit together and get out of this place. Today. Today," she told herself, like she did everyday, just before changing from one pair of pyjamas into another and snuggling up on her couch. It had become something of a routine, really.

She didn't half much belief in herself anymore and was pretty sure she would end up doing nothing, as usual. After all, what was so different about this fall Tuesday that would make her move her butt out of her house?

She wouldn't have thought this, of course, had she really known what it was that was so different. So she stepped into the shower gloomily, scrubbed herself without care and stepped out without so much as a glance at her face on her way out. She blew her hair, with the feeling that the weight of the drier was too much, and she changed into a pair of uninteresting black slacks and a white shirt - not for the want of stepping out but for the lack of clean clothes.

Yara was a practical person and didn't believe in things like fate and destiny. However, that made her awfully blind to the little signs of the universe that something big was going to happen. Something that would turn her life around.

Perhaps that's why she didn't notice how quiet her building had gotten in those fifteen minutes, or how, despite the warmth, there was a chilly breeze blowing in through her window, or that little pile of clean pyjamas that had fallen to the floor right under her wardrobe.

                                                       *

Marnik was the first town to have ever been built on the desolate planet of Rhees. Or that's what I hear. Some say the humans flew in on huge metal discs,  other say they were dropped there by a hollow window opening up in the velvety sky and some say it was their home planet.

The stories and hypotheses floating around the planet as to the origin of civilization are, as in any other planet occupied by us curious cats, endless. There is little to be known from the geography and topology of Rhees. Architects have dug and dug and found no discs- metal or otherwise- anywhere, buried, burned or hidden. Everything about how life originated on the planet was something of a mystery.

And like any world where science is clueless, religion ruled the planes of Rhees.

Claritas, they called their God.

It was a simple word, really. For the Marnikians were simple people.

Claritas. Brightness. The Lord of the Light. The galaxy that shone in the night, lighting their path in darkness.

Much like our churches, they had their own Temples of Light, with a priest-an Angelum Lucis -, a messenger of light.

And that fall Tuesday morning, the members of the Circle of Light were assembled in the high tower of Marnik and seated around a round table made of moonstone, they watched in awe and shock as tiny specks of silver and gold floated down the circular skylight.

"Impossible," gasped Angelum Aegon, his old grey eyes wide, his bony hand shivering, outstretched, wanting to touch the dust but too afraid to do so.

The other thirteen men were in a similar state, as they watched the dust particles descend like feathers into a small heap in the centre of the table.

Every priest in the room was stumped. What did it all mean? Why was this happening now? And what were going to be the stakes this time?

They all exchanged silent glances, unsure of how to deal with the situation at hand. Finally, the eldest of them all, a man with pale grey skin and milky white eyes spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Brothers," he said, wheezing with each syllable he spoke, "This isn't the first time we've been blessed with the Holy dust and this wouldn't be the last time."

A murmur ran through the small crowd of fourteen. 

                                                     *

Blessed.                                    

Whatever this holy dust was, it was definitely not a blessing. The first time it had appeared, it was in the far north, in a small province called Jubor twenty odd years ago. The priests were all in awe of the glorious miracle they were witnessing.

The fall of Stardust. It was Holy to them. A blessing sent from the heavens as a reward to their goodness. Their God, it had seemed, was pleased with them. A huge festival was arranged for. The town was decorated and dressed like a beautiful Christmas tree and every Temple bellowed praises of their Lord. The streets flooded with visitors from afar. Celebration tents and bonfires were set up. The people laughed and ate and drank and danced merrily. It went on for a good five days.

And that's when things started to change.

"The Temple of the North is one with the Holy dust."

The whispers were first heard in the lower decks of the city, among the poor and the homeless, and spread like wildfire to the top tiers. After all, it was an ancient temple and for a city like Jobur, a destruction of that magnitude meant a curse. But the priests were determined to keep it all hidden. How would they justify a wrathful God to a town full of good natured innocent people? So they did what the people of Rhees had always been good at doing. They lied. And that became the truth. The whispers became mad ramblings of the crazy and were easily dismissed. "The temple was a legend anyway," the people told themselves, turning their lies into truths in their minds. Memories of seeing the real temple vanished and instead, there remained a barren plain covered in stardust in their memories.

And inch by inch the Stardust swallowed the land, taking with it the temples and the plants and the people alike. And the people of Jobur lied to themselves over and over, slowly wiping off their existence themselves, piece by piece. And when the star dust reached the central tower of the province of Jobur, the priest remembered nothing other than the sea of stardust that lay before his eyes. He prayed to it still, and knelt at the altar of his God, arms open as the dust swirled around him in slow circles, caressing his skin as it swallowed him, too - the last one standing in the land of Jobur -bit by bit.

                                                      *

The members of The Circle of Light were no strangers to the tales of the Land of Jobur. They called it the "The Forgotten Land" . Save for a few men of the planet of Rhees, everyone seemed to have rewritten its existence in their minds. And the men that fought for it to be recognized were too easily shunned. There was no fight.

The fact that Stardust had remained still all these years also added to the comfort of the people and it was easier for them to simply forget all about the simple land of Jobur that was gone.

But The Circle of Light was not comprised of mere people. Even though they were privy to certain details of all that had transpired in The Forgotten Land, they had kept their secrets well enough. They didn't need anyone digging around- figuratively and quite literally, too- and so they kept their secrets protected in the ancient archives underneath the city of Marnik.

That didn't, however, alter their belief that Stardust was, in fact, some kind of godly phenomenon and it did nothing but unite you with the Lord of Light.

Well, at least that was the high priest, the highest in the rank of all Angelum Luci of Rhees thought. Until now.

The murmurs that ran through the room made his blood boil. His lips quivered with anger. He balled his bony hands into fists on the arms of his chair in an attempt to contain his fury.

'This is abominable', he thought. 'Our true purpose is to serve Him and how dare these flimsy puppets question His blessing?!'
He would've shouted if he could have. But he was too old to do much but glare at the room.

"Silence," he hissed. 

And so silence fell among The Circle of Light and they watched with terrified eyes as the dust slowly swirled down from the skies, their dread turning their insides cold, their ears absorbing the meaningless praise of the Lord of Light emanating from the old puckered lips of high priest Micah.

And they wondered, in their trembling hearts, what would be the fate of the prosperous town of Marnik, now that the blessing had befallen them.

                                                      *

Yara stood with her back to her balcony, her arms mechanically moving as she made herself a simple breakfast. She heard the sizzle of eggs as she broke them on the pan and couldn't help but smile. She had always loved cooking. She didn't want to be a chef or anything fancy like that, but cooking herself a simple meal, for some reason, filled her with joy.

She had just finished frying her eggs and was turning to grab a plate when she froze.

The air in the room stilled and she could almost feel her breath stopping in font of her. Her heart began thumping hard, threatening to burst the veins in her body. It was almost as if an invisible force had wrapped itself around her and suspended her in another world...a world that was frozen.

She wasn't sure she understood what was happening to her, except that she remembered feeling this way. It was the sense of deja vu that was the most discerning in this impossible situation.

Then she heard a voice float towards her. A melodious cooing enveloped her. Her eyelids felt heavy, her body swayed and she struggled to keep her senses in control.

The cooing slowly turned into a song, a beautiful lullaby, and Yara gave up the struggle as the voice filled her mind like thick honey, muddling her thoughts and emotions.

"Just a nightmare, my love. Just a nightmare," it said. And she believed the voice, letting it guide her into peaceful darkness.

                                                   *

She opened her eyes to the blackness that was so familiar.

She felt the familiar touch as fingers wrapped around her wrist and spun her around.

She saw him again - the man made from the stars. His body was almost one with the blackness but his bright blue eyes twinkled in the darkness, shining like the brightest stars of the galaxy.

He stood with his head slightly bowed, his fingers tracing circles on the insides of her wrists. She took that one step towards him, standing on tip-toes, leaning her forehead against his.

She let out a tired breath.

Never in her life had she experienced peace like that. But then started the feeling at the pit of her stomach. The world slipped from under her legs and she was tossed into the unforgiving darkness, left to float around.

A scream ripped from her throat, only to be swallowed by the silence that was beginning to press into her ears. She flailed her arms and legs helplessly, pleading to whatever God that might listen to set her free.

Her fall came to an abrupt stop and she found herself in a grassy meadow. The sun shone all around her and a warm breeze blew by - a perfect summer morning.

She shaded her eyes against the light, which fell like sharp needles after all the darkness and let the breeze calm her thumping heart. Lying down on the grass, she let herself go, drowning the image of the darkness from her mind.

Then she heard whispers. Muffled at first but soon she could make out words here and there. It wasn't long before she heard them loud and clear.

'Run,' they said, all in unison. 'Run from the dust'

She sat up straight, her heart beginning to race again. She felt something....like a brush, a soft stroke against her neck. Goosebumps raised from the spot down to her fingertips.

Hugging herself, she spun around, eyes scanning the landscape for a pursuer. And then she saw it.

It was a glimmer in the distance at first, like sunlight dancing on waves. And then it moved closer, swishing like the wind, swirling in spirals and spreading out, blanketing the horizon in a wave of gold. She stared at it, awe and fear rooting her to the spot.

The voice returned. 'Run,' it urged her. She tried but couldn't move, it felt like her feet had been entrapped by the blades of grass.

And then something grabbed her hand and in a vice like grip. She turned to find two bright blue eyes boring into hers. "Run," he said, tugging her hand and suddenly her feet were free and she turned and bolted.

The man made of stars dissolved into the air the moment she had begun running and she ran and ran and ran. Her lungs felt like they were on fire and her muscles screamed in agony. Still, she kept going. 'Run,' the voice mail egged her on whenever she seemed to slow.And all through this, the swishing dust followed her.

She ran for hours. Maybe days. She couldn't tell. The grass of the meadow disappeared into the soft hard mud of a forest floor. Trees sprouted all around her, their trunks extending into the sky with no seeming end.

She went on, even then, moving through the gaps in between the trees, jumping over fallen logs, cutting her way through the forest....

She came to an abrupt stop when the ground under feet turned harder and rougher and the trees and the weeds disappeared. All around her was smooth stone and she could hear her pants echoing through the cave. That's what it was. A stone cold cave. Clutching her side she looked around. There was no one there except her and the swishing seemed to have stopped.

She took a tentative step towards the cave wall, her heart hammering so hard she was afraid it might burst. Swallowing hard, she put one foot forward and the air around her shifted. The wind rushed in through the cave mouth, enveloping her and trapping her there.

In came the dust, floating like a mass of tiny stars. It swirled into the cave, and paused for a second as if unsure. Then it slowly flowed towards the cave walls and began crawling up them, slowly locking Yara in a prison of silver and gold and blue.

The wind died down as the dust filled the entrance of the cave and Yara was left to stare in horror as the dust inched towards her covering every surface bit by bit.

And then she heard him again. And such profound relief flooded her that she felt almost giddy.

The man made of stars stepped into the light cast by the dust. He clasped her hand and stood scanning the room for an escape route.

Yara felt her skin tingle where he had touched her. She looked down at their twined hands and gasped. The stars covering his hands were giving off little sparks of light.

Her eyes traced him from the fingertips to his toes and back to his face. She couldn't help but gape in wonder.

Earlier he had seemed so calm, like the perfect night sky and now here he was, evey star in him burning, spitting fire. He was angry. Very, very angry. And Yara was glad she wasnt the one facing that anger.

She felt a tug and her mind returned to the cave. The man was glaring at the cloud if dust circling their heads. 'You will leave her,' he said, 'And go back to Claritas. You will not return. For her, or her blood. She is not yours to consume.'

Not for the first time, she found herself gaping in horror, her eyes moving in between the man and the dust.

A chiming erupted from the dust and the man's grip around her hand momentarily tightenedbefore he let her go.

'Find Rahet,' he said. 'Find him in the Tower of Light. Before it's too late.'

She could feel herself fading from the world, then. She looked down and her hands were now translucent. She didn't want to leave him here, knowing what fate would befall him.

'Come with me,' she pleaded, her fading hands struggling to grab his. He smiled a sad smile and pressed his lips to her forehead in a soft parting kiss.

'Remember me, Yara, daughter of the stars.'

And with that she was gone, her corporeal form disappearing but not before she caught a glimpse of the man bursting into a shower of stardust.

                                           *
Yara's body slammed into the kitchen counter as she returned to her apartment. It was already time for sunset and orange light streamed in through the open windows onto her carpet. She had been gone for a good twelve houra. Gasping and groaning, she slid down to the floor, dropping her face into her hands.

Her mind was reeling. She didn't understand what was happening to her and why it was happening. She didn't know what was real and what was not anymore. And she was afraid to open her eyes, lest she find herself in that terrifying forest again, being chased by stardust.

She couldn't help the sobs that racked her body, and she hugged herself closer letting herself go. She wept for herself and for the man who had been her guide and who was now lost and she wept because she knew nothing if him, except that he was made of the stars. And she wept because deep down she knew that the dust would be back for her and she couldn't out run it. She wept and wept and wept until the sun had set and Claritas has risen. The cooing which had sent her off into her dreamworld returned with the galaxy above and lulled her into a dreamless sleep.

                                     *

All the while, the dust floated, adding to the heap on the moonstone table on the high chamber of the Tower of Light. And it shone and sang, swirling and flowing, sniffing and tasting, to find its way to the one thing it craved.

The flesh and blood of the Stars.

Yara Claritas.

                           * End of Part One *















 

                                                 


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Stardust (Part 1)

302 Launches

Part of the Fantasy collection

Updated on January 26, 2017

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