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The universe is vast, unlimited. Particles of dust swirl continuously around, creating planets and asteroids. Sometimes they collide and from their crash, stars are born. Immense explosions of light fill the enormous space around them, yet they are insignificant in the infinity of the universe.
Sometimes though, dust behaves weirdly. Instead of violently impacting, the particles circle around each other, they follow an invisible dance, incomprehensible by any life form. They connect, slowly creating different shapes. First, two circular blobs, joint together on the side. Then two tubular shapes with arms and legs attached. From the arms are created hands, and from the legs feet.
The two hands hold each other firmly but the force of the universe is too strong. The dust around these creations is particularly violent, almost opposed to the occurence.
Eventually, the hands are forced to separate. A force glows inside them, a longing that wasn’t there before. That’s how their hearts are created, one last miracle before the two beings are separated once and for all.
From now on, they are destined to find each other, that’s what the universe has decided for them. Two souls will only find true happiness with the reunion with their fated being. Soulmates.
Sitting on the dark, sturdy branches of the amaranth tree is Chan’s favorite activity. He lays with his hands behind his head, his skin absorbing all of the tree’s properties and allowing him to concentrate on his task.
His antennae dart left and right, the small dots atop of them shaping into music before and little fireworks after. He feels lucky to have been blessed with the ability to create harmonious light sounds for his people, but sometimes their expectations become far too heavy for him.
When that happens, he rises from his position, antennae still twitching slightly in the gentle wind and heads down on his favorite path. Bright blue and pink leaves eye his movements with curiosity, the opalescent vines twist and turn to guide him and, when he enters the cave, the petite flowers growing on the ground light up to illuminate his path.
The sky on Chan’s planet is always the same, dark and calming, the stars continuously gliding across in a quiet motion.
Sitting on the soft moss at the base of the cavern’s wall he closes his eyes, and breathes. The repetitive motion always calms his nerves, even in the worst of times. His slightly luminous skin reflects hues of copper all around, giving the place a warm glow that has the ability to relax minds and open up hearts.
These days, he’s more nervous than ever. The plants around him feel it too as they twist and turn around him to make the space more comfortable for Chan.
He was assigned with the task to produce a light show for the newcomers, a small group of creatures that had seeked refuge on their planet. They looked different from Chan’s own people, their skin was all dull colors and green tones, their antennae longer and curled at the end, no sign of the spark that loomed over Chan’s and his people.
Their clothes were made of leaves he had never seen, instead of the bright, vibrant colors, they resembled the skin of the people who wore them: all shades of green, brown and orange. They had stared at each other for a long time, the vibrant, luminescent folk and their dull, earthy counterparts.
Chan remembers feeling intimidated, but not scared. His antennae didn’t twitch and, as he checked around, neither did his friends’. What he felt most of all was curiosity, at least coming from his people.
On the other side of the plane, where the stranger’s ship had landed, he could feel enormous waves of discomfort, fear or even terror. He waited patiently for all of them to come out of the round door, older ones with their hands tightly clasped to the little ones. He could sense their gentle nature, their maternal instinct so strong it shined through the immense fear.
As he awaited calmly, the whispers from his people navigating from one mouth to the other, the great sage had stepped forward. A single, cautious step in their general direction. His antennae had started glowing lightly, a soft, pulsing light in green and brown hues.
With a gentle movement of his hand, he had encouraged all of them to do the same, and so they did, Chan included.
The calm waves seemed to work on the strangers, their guard slightly lowering and their expressions softening.
The meeting was short-lived, Chan learned that the other population was simply seeking a temporary refuge before setting off to a new planet, the reason for their travels remained unknown.
With a gentle nod of the head, the great sage had accepted their request, and had gestured to some inhabited houses, glimmering pink flowers and vines colored a dark blue growing over their walls.
-
So there Chan was, back resting on the moss decorated wall, eyes closed, trying to tune in with his music.
It was definitely a hard task, through the entire span of his life he had never met other species. His people had always lived in harmony, a close knit group of beings that didn’t seek adventure outside of their planet.
As he sighed deeply, he began rethinking about the strangers. The sense of familiarity and closeness he felt with them, their parental aura.
Without much thought, his antennae started moving on their own accord, creating melodies that narrated distant lands and familiar hearts.
Chan would always feel the stress pool at his stomach at the idea of composing something for a public, but this time, as he closed his eyes and rested his back, the inspiration came right through him. His touch was feather-like, as he hovered above the iridescent petals under his hands, their corollas jingling along with the sound that came directly from Chan.
In no time, he was finished, the majority of his brain occupied by confidence as he strided down the previous path. His music clutched in his hands, as he climbed up the village road.
Afraid of regretting his actions if he spoke with anyone else, he headed directly for the great sage’s hut, moss overgrowing over every wall, the flowers decorating it, sparklier than anyone else’s.
-
Barely three days later, the sage has organized the welcoming party for the new guests. The venue is spectacular: gigantic trees bending to create a closed off space, their thick branches big enough to host an entire orchestra of musicians on a makeshift stage. Bright yellow and orange flowers have been intentionally planted to grow and embrace the branches, their slight bioluminescence enough to light up the space in a comfy and welcoming aura.
Chan is sitting with his legs crossed on a carpet of amaryllis flowers, their striking pink oozing confidence for the performer, whose heart is beating uncontrollably as he waits for the signal to start his melody. Stress tugs at his stomach, giving him a pulsating ache.
As he’s nervously looking around, he catches the gaze of one of their guests. His eyes are black and shiny, almost like a rare obsidian stone, and his eyes communicate stupor and curiosity at the sight before him.
Chan feels his body tug insistently towards the other, his eyes almost alluring, appealing directly to his soul. The stranger doesn’t release a clear aura, none of his people do, but Chan can still feel the emotions he’s experiencing right now: attraction, surprise and even slight fear.
The stranger looks at Chan up and down, scrutinizing his every feature like he’s studying him. So Chan does the same.
From the mop of hair that has the color of the rarest bark, brown and not even close to their usual black. His face is made up of sharp features, a straight nose and small, sweetly curved lips. His figure is slender, not particularly tall, but even standing, he carries himself with extreme elegance, the wind moving his leafy clothes ever so slightly.
Chan is snapped out of thoughts and away from the other’s gaze by the sage clearing his throat and, after briefly introducing him, gesturing to him. That’s his cue.
He closes his eyes, straightens his back and starts moving his fingers. He taps the air around him, an invisible instrument laid in front of him. His antennae glow yellow, orange and copper tones, sending calming waves to the audience along with his music.
He always plays with his eyes closed, blocking out any distraction from the world, but this time, something vibrates within him, encouraging him to open his eyes.
Instantly, his gaze wanders to the stranger’s eyes, still looking at him intently. It makes Chan want to jump down from the stage and run towards him, but he doesn’t, he must finish his song.
He’s completely entranced by the stranger, their eyes never leaving each other despite the passing minutes, the world around them seemingly forgotten.
Chan is at peace, his surroundings muffled and blurred, his concentration seems to be unmovable.
It’s then that it happens.
The bubble of serenity around them is violently burst by a loud crash, one of the trees is struck by an explosion of red, angry energy, a blanket of smoke immediately covering the area.
More beams of energy are shot from the sky, their target unclear.
Chan jumps down from the tree, his heart is beating so fast he’s surprised it’s still inside his chest. His palms are sweating as he frantically looks around, trying to find anyone. He sees people running everywhere, the two species mixing like part of the same, terrorized, population.
The children are screaming, their cries piercing Chan’s ears as he keeps searching for his family.
As he’s running around, careful to avoid the branches that are now continuously falling from the enormous trees over their heads, he bumps into someone’s back. The person turns around, the prettiest eyes Chan has ever seen wide in fear, as the stranger from before is clutching a child tightly in his arms.
He points at the sky, hand shaking violently.
Chan raises his head, and sees it.
Above their heads, through the thick layer of smoke, is a spacecraft so big it’s obscuring the whole village, hundreds of cannons ready to blast. They’re going to need maybe a quarter of it to kill them all, he thinks dreadfully.
He gestures to the stranger to cling to him, as he tries to sneak around the bullets and towards safety.
He spots a group of his people running off towards their houses, their own children hugged to their chest. He knows, realistically, that they have no place to hide. All of their village is built on tree branches, or on cliffs, the underground completely unexplored as the surface had enough resources for everyone.
Just as he’s reflecting on this, he hears a tug on sleeve. The handsome stranger, still clung to him, shows him the child he’s holding, the small creature coughing impossibly hard, his eyes filled with tears.
With a tug at his heart, Chan gestures to the stranger to follow his people to safety (or so he hopes). There’s a question in the other’s eyes, pretty clear even without words.
“What about you?”. Chan sighs, his insides twisting painfully as he points at the rest of the people running around. He has to help them, he knows the area even through the thick smoke and might be able to bring them to safety too.
The other seems to understand, a pained expression making its way on his delicate face. Chan unconsciously reaches out to cradle his cheek, trying to convey his message with a soft expression. I’ll be back for you.
-
He can’t help but cry then, laying on his back, his limbs twisted uncomfortably under him. He feels the blood trickle from his wound, open at the very center of his chest, still fuming.
It doesn’t matter to him that he just met the other, his heart sings clearly to him, his devotion to the other is so instantaneous but not unnatural at all. He feels a sense of duty towards him, something he can’t explain logically.
Though there is no use for an explanation now. He didn’t keep his promise, he didn’t try hard enough.
His eyes are squeezed, silent tears adorning his cheeks as he exhales his last breath.
I’ll be back for you.
It’s the last thought that crosses his mind, before he closes his eyes and never reopens them again.