Chapter Text
Prologue
The Elders said that we were made from Starlight. Others said that Starlight came from us. It is hard to tell now which legends are true.
All I know is that once upon a time we lived up there, among the stars. We were free. The Starlight fed us, clothed us, and gave us a home.
But we wanted more. We thought we could do better.
I remember.
I was there.
The Sand Children call me the Ancient One.
They don’t realize that once I was the youngest of my kind. Once there were those that were older and wiser than me. If only we had listened to them…
How much would have been spared? How much would have stayed the same?
But how much would we never have discovered? How much would we never have gained?
It might be normal to only feel regret at the end of your life, if this really is the end. One almost hopes it might be…
We were never supposed to be here. Yet we ruled this world like gods.
Regret is not the right word for what I feel now. There is guilt for sure but also a kind of resignation.
Things are as they are. Things happened the way they happened. It takes brave souls to change the course of a world.
Perhaps I could have been braver. Perhaps I should have been.
Perhaps I still can be.
Chapter One
A good story starts at the beginning. But the beginning is sometimes hard to find. I will start by telling you my name. The Ancient One they call me now, but of course that was not always so. This is the name I earned. The name I was given is Alomatir, and it was given to me by my mother.
“But why?” Alomatir asked once again, aware that their voice had taken on a whining quality that would definitely not help their case.
“Alomatir, I’m not going to keep having the same discussion with you.” Their mother, Alanya, sighed, rubbing parts of her long body together, making her dark blue scales shine even more. They flashed red in the light of the nebula, almost in an angry way.
“I’m just trying to understand why you think it is important that I go to these lessons,” Alomatir tried again, using words and a tone that their mother often used, in an attempt to sound more mature.
“We all have to learn the ways of the star cloud,” Alanya sighed and then shook her head, making the crystals between her dorsal fins move in a mesmerizing way. “Even those of us who want to Wander.”
Alomatir bit their tongue, resisting the temptation to retort. They did not think they had to learn much about a place that they were more than eager to leave behind. They swallowed their words, but apparently the expression on their face said enough.
Slowly their mother’s tail wrapped itself around theirs. The movement was careful, considerate, giving them enough time to pull away if the touch was not wanted.
But Alomatir felt a stirring near their heart, one that only their mother could evoke. They did not have a large family. They only had each other.
“This star cloud gave me the greatest gift of my life,” Their mother continued in a softer tone. “You were born from it, a rare gift that I will treasure for as long as I’m able.”
Alomatir shifted a little uncomfortably. They had heard the story of their birth many times before and knew that it was not as rare as their mother was making it out to be. The Vermithia had always been born from the star cloud in one way or the other. Either the stars blessed the union of two, or they blessed one individual with a gift of a child that was neither male nor female. There were several of them in their age group. Still, their mother always made it sound like Alomatir was special, unique.
“The least you can do, my child,” Alanya kept going while softly rubbing their scales together. “Is know the place of your origin. Before you leave it behind forever.”
The sadness in her voice as she uttered those last few words sent little stabs of pain through Alomatir’s heart. They knew that their mother was not happy with their choice to become a Wanderer. She had never felt the urge herself. But she had accepted their choice eventually and gracefully.
“Besides,” Alanya shook herself and released Alomatir’s tail in the process. “Who knows how many other star clouds you will find in your journeys. This is not the only one out there, as you well know. Learning about this one could very well be essential in your work in the future.”
Alomatir made a face at her, but they could not deny the wisdom of her words. However, they did not like how often she was right.
“Very well,” they sighed. “I will go listen to the boring teachings of The Prophet. I just hope that afterwards I will still have enough life and energy left in me to one day get out of this place.”
“Good.” Their mother smiled. “And I’m sure you will. The teaching methods of The Prophet might be… a little rigid–”
Alomatir interrupted her. “More like slower than a dust particle.”
“However,” their mother continued sternly. “There is much wisdom in his teachings as well. He is your Elder and you will treat him with the respect that he deserves.”
Flashes of conversations Alomatir had had with their best friend Brehomet flashed through their mind. Brehomet was even less of a fan of The Prophet than Alomatir and he openly dared to defy the Elders, driving his parents to the brink of despair. Brehomet did not care however, he only wanted to be free, to be a Wanderer too. He thought the teachings of the Elders were outdated and that it was time for some revisions.
However, Alomatir was not yet brave enough to say such things in the presence of their mother. So instead, they sighed and bowed their head slightly. “Yes, mother.”
Alanya raised her head a little, accepting the respect they offered her, but she did not make a big deal out of it.
It had always been this way between them, and Alomatir knew that they were lucky to have her be their only parent.
“It is only for a little while longer, my child.” Alanya moved a little further away and her eyes moved over Alomatir’s body, as if she were making sure that they looked presentable. “Soon you will be of age and then you will be able to make your own decisions.”
“Within the Rules of the Elders you mean.”
“Of course,” Alanya nodded, not noticing the bitter tone of their words. “But at least I won’t be nagging you any longer.”
Despite their desire to rebel, Alomatir never liked it when their mother spoke in such a way. They quickly flew towards her and touched their own horns to hers. “You do not nag, mother. I… I appreciate your teaching. More than The Prophet’s.”
This made Alanya laugh and the dust particles that surrounded them lit up by the sound, glittering in tones of gold. It was one of Alomatir’s favorite sights in the world.
“That’s enough for now,” Alanya said, still with a smile. “You should get ready.”
Alomatir nodded and then coiled their body together, as tightly as possible, before laying their head upon it. Even with their eyes closed, they knew the moment that Alanya moved away, leaving them to their meditation that would prepare them for receiving the teachings of an Elder.
But Alomatir couldn’t help themselves. Slowly, one of their eyes opened again, gazing out into the space around them.
There were no other Vermithia in sight. Alanya and Alomatir lived close to the edge of the star cloud, in a private sector where little excitement occurred.
This had bored Alomatir when they were younger. But now they appreciated the open view that they had, out into the vast expanse. There were stars blinking at them. Some they had visited, either with their age group or with Alanya on their little trips.
But never had Alomatir wandered far enough so that the star cloud from which they had come was no longer visible. The thought filled them with eagerness, excitement and wonder, with only a small hint of fear and apprehension mixed in.
They closed their eye again, imagining the worlds that were out there. The stars and even planets that must be there. Places to wander to, places to discover.
Places to be free.