The stars were falling across the sky in little bursts of light. They kissed the tops of the inky pine trees and danced gently around the moon. When she was a little one, Esti was enamored with the idea that the night sky was a geode, dusky black with a brilliant fissure down the middle, and that years ago some ancient giant had split the darkness with their hammer and from it made the stars to calm the people after dusk. The night held many dangers in its dark folds, but under the glimmer of the stars one was always safe.
This was one of the many nights that she couldn’t fall asleep. She would just stare up at the sky and think silly, useless thoughts like these, about the beauty of the world and the beauty of life, about the beauty of cold night wind brushing the scent of pine sap over thick woolen blankets, about the beauty of words, and the beauty of chaos.
Usually, these thoughts would eventually lull her to a deep, calm sleep. But for some reason, tonight was different. Esti couldn’t stop thinking, even after it had been ages since they had laid their heads down for the night. Whenever she could feel herself finally drifting off, a new thought would enter her mind and force her back awake. And it was always something incredibly stupid and incredibly blasphemous. Like, for example, the question of what life was like in the past, in the days when the earth was soaked through with poison and you could barely see the stars. In the days of tall towers blocking out the sky, and crowds of people crammed into a single hut, filled to the brim with luxury. How did people live like that? She almost laughed when she thought about it. Imagine a world being slowly quenched of its life, imagine a world with no overlords to keep peace! It was ridiculous. And somewhat sad.
Esti supposed that they had replaced those things with their needless luxuries. Who on earth would think that something as stupid as a bed would be something that all humans must have? That world had been too coddled, too precious. Too free from agony. Hadn’t that been what they had all learned, from the minute they were born?
And with the overlords came relief, deliverance from society and grief.
They came from the stars to save us.
It made sense, of course. The old world was something unsustainable, something that was prime to collapse on its own pile of toxic waste, choke on its own deadly smoke. It was a place where all the natural beauty had been eliminated in favor of cold, hard artifice, a world that was slowly corrupting itself from the outside in. It was evil. It was blasphemous.
But still. There was something that wasn’t quite right.
Esti frowned sleepily. She vaguely recalled the wrong thing being something she had read about in the World Paper that morning. Something about the removing of an insubordinate earlier that week had struck her as . . . off. Which was blasphemous in of itself. But there was something about it . . .
It was suddenly very cold under the wool. And the air was slightly strange — it was less crisp, and more . . . moldy. Like the air deep inside a cave. It closed her in and filled her mouth, and suddenly Esti found it very hard to breathe. It smelled like festering meat, and she shivered in revulsion. It was as if the world was decaying around her. Her sight flashed once, twice. With a desperate gasp, she realized that she could barely feel something cold and hard covering her nose.
Then, as quickly as it started, there was a flash of light across the sky. And it was all gone, everything fading to pitch black.
* * * * *
Esti woke up to the last fading red tendrils of the sunrise, and immediately frowned. Something felt . . . off.
“What is it, my starling?” A strange girl was looking at her, almost cautiously. Who even was that?
Did the dusty brown hills look unfamiliar? Was it that strange scent in the air, like sickly sweet strawberries? Maybe it was just the throbbing of her head that was throwing her off. Yes, that was it, it must be her head.
“Esti?” It was the girl with the dark hair again, the one that had been there when she woke up. Suddenly, she was perfectly familiar. It was Lore, and although she could not remember anything specific about her (another strange thing), she remembered that she loved her.
“I could swear . . . was there anything strange about last night? My flower?”
Lore laughed in a manner that sounded slightly relieved, smiled her beautiful beam that never failed to light up the world with the glow of a thousand stars, pushed her nose to Esti’s, and kissed her good morning as she had surely done countless times before.
“Just a dream, my starling. Just a dream, yet again. Now, come! There’s a strawberry plant not far off.”
Esti kissed her back with a wide grin.
Until the day she died, Esti would still have a hard time recalling what a tree was, and she could never be relied on to tell any stories about the stars.
This was one of the many nights that she couldn’t fall asleep. She would just stare up at the sky and think silly, useless thoughts like these, about the beauty of the world and the beauty of life, about the beauty of cold night wind brushing the scent of pine sap over thick woolen blankets, about the beauty of words, and the beauty of chaos.
Usually, these thoughts would eventually lull her to a deep, calm sleep. But for some reason, tonight was different. Esti couldn’t stop thinking, even after it had been ages since they had laid their heads down for the night. Whenever she could feel herself finally drifting off, a new thought would enter her mind and force her back awake. And it was always something incredibly stupid and incredibly blasphemous. Like, for example, the question of what life was like in the past, in the days when the earth was soaked through with poison and you could barely see the stars. In the days of tall towers blocking out the sky, and crowds of people crammed into a single hut, filled to the brim with luxury. How did people live like that? She almost laughed when she thought about it. Imagine a world being slowly quenched of its life, imagine a world with no overlords to keep peace! It was ridiculous. And somewhat sad.
Esti supposed that they had replaced those things with their needless luxuries. Who on earth would think that something as stupid as a bed would be something that all humans must have? That world had been too coddled, too precious. Too free from agony. Hadn’t that been what they had all learned, from the minute they were born?
And with the overlords came relief, deliverance from society and grief.
They came from the stars to save us.
It made sense, of course. The old world was something unsustainable, something that was prime to collapse on its own pile of toxic waste, choke on its own deadly smoke. It was a place where all the natural beauty had been eliminated in favor of cold, hard artifice, a world that was slowly corrupting itself from the outside in. It was evil. It was blasphemous.
But still. There was something that wasn’t quite right.
Esti frowned sleepily. She vaguely recalled the wrong thing being something she had read about in the World Paper that morning. Something about the removing of an insubordinate earlier that week had struck her as . . . off. Which was blasphemous in of itself. But there was something about it . . .
It was suddenly very cold under the wool. And the air was slightly strange — it was less crisp, and more . . . moldy. Like the air deep inside a cave. It closed her in and filled her mouth, and suddenly Esti found it very hard to breathe. It smelled like festering meat, and she shivered in revulsion. It was as if the world was decaying around her. Her sight flashed once, twice. With a desperate gasp, she realized that she could barely feel something cold and hard covering her nose.
Then, as quickly as it started, there was a flash of light across the sky. And it was all gone, everything fading to pitch black.
* * * * *
Esti woke up to the last fading red tendrils of the sunrise, and immediately frowned. Something felt . . . off.
“What is it, my starling?” A strange girl was looking at her, almost cautiously. Who even was that?
Did the dusty brown hills look unfamiliar? Was it that strange scent in the air, like sickly sweet strawberries? Maybe it was just the throbbing of her head that was throwing her off. Yes, that was it, it must be her head.
“Esti?” It was the girl with the dark hair again, the one that had been there when she woke up. Suddenly, she was perfectly familiar. It was Lore, and although she could not remember anything specific about her (another strange thing), she remembered that she loved her.
“I could swear . . . was there anything strange about last night? My flower?”
Lore laughed in a manner that sounded slightly relieved, smiled her beautiful beam that never failed to light up the world with the glow of a thousand stars, pushed her nose to Esti’s, and kissed her good morning as she had surely done countless times before.
“Just a dream, my starling. Just a dream, yet again. Now, come! There’s a strawberry plant not far off.”
Esti kissed her back with a wide grin.
Until the day she died, Esti would still have a hard time recalling what a tree was, and she could never be relied on to tell any stories about the stars.