In a city that had once housed millions, only two remained. Two Alchemists, standing at the edge of a crater, the sign of their good work. With time, the quicksilver that had poured into the blood of a hundred planets would decompose into gold. As the two removed their helmets, they thought it a pity they wouldn’t get to see its gleam.
A moment later, two more bodies were welcome into the pit.
5052 BBT
It was an unassuming morn when the last Alchemist ceased their breath. And so it was, the Grimoire was passed down into the hungry hands of the Twila, throbbing with a yearning for knowledge. But forewarning were they sorely lacking, for once they had engorged themself on bitter truth, they could not wipe the taste of rot from their mouths.
Thus, a pact was called by those who could pretend they yet held life, signed in the honor of those who could not. A solemn silence befell the lands, and the great book was shielded from the eyes of the unready, to be held only in the hands of the Alumai, as it was always meant to be. For the first generation of Twila, the lust for life was had fallen away. They left all their passions to the next, and patiently waited for the soft release of death.
5032 BBT
The footsteps came quietly, another whisper in a hushed ruin. All that yet lived in that forgotten city was the wind, determined to reduce what was left to gravel. It was this very gravel, the beginnings of a cemetery-beach, that crunched softly under Lumen’s boots.
At 21, the Twila had been among the first to be born on Auren. It had been suffocating. It wasn’t that there was pressure, moreso the opposite. The people were worn, tired, beat up. They didn’t talk about it, in the rare instances that they talked at all. It was like the opposite of claustrophobia. It was like space, apathetic. It wouldn’t actively hurt you, but in its inaction it was suffocating. What pain must they have felt in that early fog of pain to turn out so hollow?
Candela was somewhere in these ruins trying to find anything useful. Lumen was just glad to be there, the first of the “lost planets” found. He wondered at its secrets. What was it that had brought this city to destruction? Who had lived here? Why was this city, out of all the others, the target of such an attack? The truth was out there somewhere, waiting for him to dust it off.
Candela was 42. Her acquaintances were 42. Her unfavorables were 42. Most of her species was 42. The offspring accompanying her was not 42. He was 21. He was 1 when she was 22. He was born a year before an influx of Null donations made reproduction more viable. She found it…
Candela continued her obligatory search. She knew there was nothing of worth there. She knew command knew. It was for the offspring to learn. Not getting answers would disappoint him. He would get over it. He would return to the ship and log everything in his journal. She would get to go back to her cabin. And wait. Waiting was all she had left. Even now she was simply waiting.
And suddenly she wasn’t. Candela barely registed it at first. It was such a subdued part of the destruction. It seemed to scream when she saw it. It didn’t want to be seen. She saw it. It didn’t want to be seen, but she saw it. She didn’t want to see it. It seemed to her the face of the Devil, taunting her at the edge of a crater. There were drums somewhere, pounding in her ears, but she couldn’t see them. That thing was trying to suffocate her, making her breath come out shakily. It was evil. She was glowing now, far more than normal. Her eyes began to dart around, looking for any chance at help, and finally she found a solution.
When Lumen would ask her later about the flash of light and that thing he saw fly into the hole, her answer would be simple. She was caught off guard by the local wildlife. She removed the problem. She would walk past him. She would head back to the shuttle. And she would sit there until it left.
5014 BBT
Lux dangled his feet over the edge of the pit. He could see the beginnings of a great lake at the bottom, still yet a puddle in comparison to its vessel. Given long enough, this place could actually become beautiful. It was just a matter of the Twila living long enough to see it.
Things were not great back home. The entire research team was being brought back, they couldn’t justify people in tents having a better quality of living then the main population. That, at least was inevitable. The place was Old Kind all right, but there was nothing there to grab.
Regardless, Lux was going to miss the planet. If he was lucky, the bureaucracy back on Auren would be sorted through quick enough for him to catch the next flight over to the broken city.
4944 BBT
There was another raid last night. The damn exiles were getting bold, attacking the royal archeology camp like that. They paid for it too, but the ones that managed to survived scurried into the forest like rats, dragging tools behind them.
That’s why Dawn was out here, gun in hand, walking the perimeter with Horizon. The Head Researchers weren’t about to be caught off guard again. At any rate, it was better than being on clean-up duty, the poor souls. At least the Null would go to good use.
Luminous was anything but bright and cheery right now. 13 dead, in a strike team of 24. The scientists had been better supplied then they’d realized, evidently in preparation for this exact situation. She couldn’t dwell on it, the people would greive at the funeral, more ceremonial than anything considering the lack of bodies. For now, there was business to attend to. The tools they’d managed to grab were priceless. Shovels, saws, it wasn’t enough to build a town with, but it was a start. All they needed was a start.
4928 BBT
The town of Pariah had sprouted up across the hole from the research team, first as a weed, then as a great trunk. Over time, the skirmishes between the settlements had grown less and less frequent. Until finally, they stopped entirely. And now, thirteen years after arriving on Vezun, twelve years after taking her first border patrol, Umbra was proud to say she’d risen through the ranks through it all, the last attack happening a month after her last promotion. She’d gone through all of that struggle, defending her job tooth and nail, just to now be sitting across from one of those “exiles,” none other than Luminous’s own son. He was sharply dressed, even if the suit was from 19 years ago. She supposed there wasn’t any fine tailors in exileville. She gestured for him to speak.
“Ahem. Ms. Umbra, do you feel your peers deserve their positions in your team? Do you believe they’re the most qualified to be running this team? We’ve seen ship after ship come here, offloading and onloading researchers as they please. You want to know something? You’re the first Head Researcher who didn’t arrive here as such. Under your leadership this camp has been far more productive, and far more secure. I think the question is not whether your peers deserve their positions,” He leaned in, with far more confidence than he had any right to, “it’s what you want to do about it.”
Later that night, she’d still dwell on what he said. The man was the son of a traitor alright, and clearly overconfident in his ability to sway people. But beyond all that, he’d had a point. Umbra had no desire to overthrow the Kingdom or fully take over the research camp, but perhaps she could do more to help the more competent thrive on this planet. Perhaps she could.