Between stars, converse with the dead.
rating: +11+x

This is SEMELIEL GRAPHUN-MAL GALORTH-GALUNUN-NA'HATH-GON-GAL transmitting back to Soil. No new transmissions have been received for the last 6 cycles.


This is SEMELIEL GRAPHUN-MAL GALORTH-GALUNUN-NA'HATH-GON-GAL transmitting back to Soil. No new transmissions have been received for the last 27 cycles.


This is SEMELIEL GRAPHUN-MAL GALORTH-GALUNUN-NA'HATH-GON-GAL transmitting back to Soil. No new transmissions have been received for the last 78 cycles.


This is SEMELIEL GRAPHUN-MAL GALORTH-GALUNUN-NA'HATH-GON-GAL transmitting back to Soil. No new transmissions have been received for the last 137 cycles.


This is…

This is SEMELIEL GRAPHUN-MAL GALORTH-GALUNUN-NA'HATH-GON-GAL, bored, transmitting back to Soil. No new transmissions have been received for the last 214 cycles.


This is SEMELIEL GRAPHUN-MAL GALORTH-GALUNUN-NA'HATH-GON-GAL, bored, homesick, transmitting back to Soil. No new transmissions have been received for the last 487 cycles.


This is SEMELIEL GRAPHUN-MAL G-…

This… This is Semeliel. I am Semeliel. It's been a long time since my departure from Soil. I know exactly how much, but I'd rather not say it…

I know they are dead. It's been too long.

Space is vast. Vast and impossibly boring.
I’m alone.
I'm…


Another day. Nothing at all. I've memorized the three or four hundred lightshows they gave me. Hearing their voices… It brought me comfort at first, but now it's like I can't stand them anymore. For the last 50 cycles they've been sitting in my memory, being dreaded and nothing else.


Two hundred thirty-two thousand one hundred ninety-four… two hundred thirty-two thousand one hundred ninety-five… Two hundred thirty-two thousand one hundred ninety-six craters. This face of that moon has two h-

[TRANSMISSION RECEIVED.]

…YES? YES!? FINALLY! YES. FINALLY SOMETHING. FINALLY SOMETHING HAPPENS. YES. YES! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! AT LAST! AT LAST! SOMETHING IS HAPPENING! SO EXCITING!

Let's see! Let's see what this one is about!


Okay, okay. Just text. There appears to be two genetic signatures in there, both coming from male individuals. There’s low damage, which could be due to a degradated cell, exposure to radiation, a period of slight malnourishment or simply signal corruption.

I’m going to revise the text now…

My dearest Fellindilon:

It has been three blazes since your departure, yet your memory remains vivid as if engraved onto my skin.

I remember still the day of our first meeting. You, sitting across the hall, stealing as many looks from me as you could. And me, trying to be a face worth remembering. I didn’t think, then, you’d be someone I’d meet with again. Days passed and you remained a face, a fond memory and nothing else. No name, no voice, no smell, just both of your sight pairs gazing back at me. Imagine my surprise, then, when I found you again.

You were as beautiful as ever. Moving, in the way you move and breathing in the way you breathe. All four of your eyes as bright as ever. You looked back at me and recognized me instantly. We left the centre together that day. Do you remember how happy we were? I certainly do.

We were two infancies that understood each other. I knew everything about your father as soon as you told me how you got that scar in your arm, and you knew everything about mine when I asked you to whisper. We unraveled each other, you unwrapped me and I did so to you. Slowly, over the ninths. we saw more and more of each other. And unravel we did! You know I’ve always been the most pudorous of the two, but I know you know what I mean.

Each night with you was the best thing that ever happened to me. You were my place in our red spec and I’m sure I was yours, too. I know you’re the best person I’ve ever met because even in your absence, I know I’ll be fine. Because if this world can make someone like you, then I refuse to believe it is as wretched as some think. Because if this world has a place for people like you, then it has a place for people like me.

You were taken from us too soon, Fellindilon.

I hope the Cradle of Stars is as beautiful as you always said it would be.

-Your husband Ulfsang, with nothing but love.


I…

They… They really loved each other, didn’t they…?

My race. Their numbers were in the billions. How many of them were a Fellindilon? How many of them loved like Ulfsang? It's… The universe, this place. It is full of tragedies, I think. What kind of place would allow something like that? The death of so many loves, of so many people… It's cruel. There is no other way to describe it.

Yet… Ulfsang seemed to be so at peace…

I… I am not crying? Why am I not crying? I… I don't think I can. Of course I can't. Why would they make it possible for me to cry? It makes no sense… Silly me.

…so silly…


You know, Fellindilon, I wanted to ask you something.

That place, the cradle of stars… Does it have a place for something… Someone like me?

I figured as much.

After all… I seem to be an enormous design flaw.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License