Chapter 8A: Plague of a Dying Star

Chapter Eight

Sometimes I can see myself drifting slowly between the stars like I am locked beneath the sea. And in this space I struggle silently just to catch my long-lost breath, like I’ve been drowning for a lifetime in my own emptiness. I can see glimpses of myself as a silhouette clinging to shadows cast by wayward asteroids. In some ways, I always thought of myself as someone trapped in an infinite orbit, born beyond the event horizon of a celestial collapse set to unravel the very fabric of this universe. Perhaps that was my curse all along. Perhaps I got caught in a black hole in a past life and used what little power I had left to infect my incarnations with venomous tentacles that transcend time and space.

It was early on a snow-touched morning when I stepped out into the starlit street. Wispy clouds drifted quickly through the sky and shrouded the snow from the shimmering stars. There was a crack in the street not far from my house where no snow ever sought to settle. Where a thin layer of powdered ice clung to the rest of the city, I only ever saw water in this place. Sometimes steam would erupt and emerge through this crack in the street. On a cold morning like this, that burst of steam was enough to flood the air with fog. The heat would eliminate any snow and create a pocket of warmth in the frigid city, like an island of light in an ocean of darkness.

I have a theory that all this world was once a star, but not an arrogant star like a supernova that overwhelms its own limits and eventually collapses under its own gravity. I propose instead that this world was a simple star which slowly spent its stellar fuel until it had nothing left to burn. The surface crusted over to become the land on which we walk, but the remnants of the dying star smolder subtly beneath our feet. Its heat sometimes escapes to the surface like through the crack in the street or in the thermal vents which warm the ocean. Volcanos and earthquakes are nothing more than the fallen star adamantly defying its own decay, asserting to reality that it will one day burn bright again. But back when this star was at its strongest, the nuclear fusion which supplied its power also conceived the elements that now compose this hopeless world. Perhaps two hydrogen atoms fused to make helium. Two helium atoms then fused to make beryllium. Two of those then fused to make oxygen, which then bonded to a couple hydrogens to make water. Perhaps this process repeated a billion times. Perhaps this star created the same oceans which eventually destroyed it. Perhaps I should have spent more time learning chemistry instead of filling notebooks with nonsense.

I explained this theory to Aeliana as we stood in the snow outside our quiet home. Every word I spoke sent a shimmering cloud of fog into the starlit air. Tiny crystals of ice danced and spiraled all around us. She craned her hazel eyes to the sky and stared at the stars as I spoke. Even without whispering a word, I could see her contemplating the possibility that the tiny lights in the sky once constructed the world beneath our feet.

She said as her smile seemed to come undone, “I read that other worlds revolve around a sun. It is the source of their light, their warmth, and even their life. It was said that worlds without a sun eventually freeze; they wither and die without a star to support them. I always wondered what was so special about this world that it never had a sun of its own. My sister said that we were kept alive only by the grace of God. This world was once His playground, and He rewarded our ardent love with enough warmth to uphold life. We were all alive only because we praised him for our lives. She was obsessed with God, and I think I’m starting to see why. Even when we were at our worst, even when we had starved for weeks with nothing to eat but the dead, she said that He would reward our faith. She said that He would come back one day to save this helpless world. She said that He would reward our pain in the end, and I think that’s the thing that kept her going all along. Even after we lost the little family we had left, she continued to pray; she would pray night and day. She would pray both to stay and to someday go away. She would pray with dismay, and she would pray to decay; she would pray to fix the problems she couldn’t allay. She would pray for tomorrow, and she would pray for today. She would pray when the stars sway, or when skies turned to gray. She would pray when she woke up, and she would pray just to say, ‘Please give me more time with her. I just want to stay.’”

“Do you believe there’s a God who watches over this land?” I asked Aeliana as I gently took her hand.

But she shook her head slowly and turned away as she said, “I think He’s either gone forever or dead. She said that even the heart which pumps blood through our veins is proof of His love. I think His love is long-lost and faded long ago. Our lives are the leftovers – not a miracle. I hope that doesn’t sound… overdramatic, but I think I’m finally seeing the enormity of my misery from my life outside the walls. But I don’t think it matters. Not anymore. And how about you, Asivario? Do you believe in a God who will save our sullied souls?”

I could see her steeling herself in an attempt to climb forth from the scars which still clawed at her heart. I said to guide her mind in a different direction, “You are the only one to whom I ever felt a connection. I don’t know if there is or ever was a God, but the stories to me always felt like a façade. Whether there’s a God or not makes no difference to me; He’s nothing more than a word whispered inside this city. All that matters in the end is that I have you by my side, and I’ll become God myself just to cast the shackles aside.”

Though at first she looked shocked, Aeliana giggled and said, “I love hearing the thoughts that pour out of your head! I have met people who would hate you for those words; some might even call it pure blasphemy. But in order to actually blaspheme God, I suppose there must be a living God in the first place. And… I just don’t think that’s something I believe.”

“Well, hell! This sure sounds like a heavy conversation! Sorry to interrupt, but it’s good to see you two again,” Donovan said with a big smile as he stepped onto our street.

I saw a glimpse of suspicion pass through her eyes, but Aeliana burned her distrust when she saw his familiar face. She still stepped closer to me, but she stood out front as if she intended to protect me from some unforeseen threat. I smiled and welcomed Donovan to our snow-touched sector of the city, but I could see a glimpse of unease beneath his friendly gaze.

Donovan cleared his throat and then started to talk, “I think we’ll look less suspicious if we speak while we walk.”

“Why would we look suspicious in the first place?” Aeliana asked as she tilted her face.

Though we both nodded and walked northward with him, Donovan sighed and explained, “Because you now both have secrets which must stay contained. Anyone can see the truth if they look too closely. Aeliana, please try not to take this the wrong way, but it’s more than just the scars on your skin. There’s a savagery in your soul that cannot be covered. If anyone knows what to look for, they’ll clearly see that you are an outsider unwelcome in this city. You betray the truth with your sorrow and your strength. If we pass quickly through the streets, no one will have time to notice, and right now you don’t want anyone to notice.”

“Why would right now be worse than any other time?” I asked as I took Aeliana’s hand in mine.

But after glancing around, Donovan muttered, “Just look at the street; look how everything’s shuttered.”

(Note: There are still 2 more parts to this chapter)