We pick through the rubble of this forgotten planet, careful not to stub our toes on the jagged gray rocks, terrified of making even the slightest sound. Ten years ago, the Zidd, a species characterized by their smoldering skin and utter hate for the universe, came for Sqia'lon Seven. Before this they'd been largely ignored by the intergalactic community. 

The Zidd were a planet full of upstarts, not worth the time of more advanced, prosperous states. That was before they began their attacks - sting operations meant to destroy societies, kill entire species, and leave entire planets deserted. No one thought 'that' would be the fate of Sqia'lon Seven when their hulking ship was seen a few light years away from what was the gem of the Hria'lon galaxy. They attacked and Sqia'lon Seven survived, or so we thought. Two years ago their transmissions stopped, trade ceased, and it seemed like the entirety of Sqia'lon Seven had gone silent.

The rest of our planet, Sqia'lon Six, seemed cowed, content to ignore the fate of what used to be our thriving sister planet. Nfrite, Serhat, and I, however, took it upon ourselves to set out and find the truth after Sqia'lon Seven's galactic channel went mute. Although we had departed when the first hints of news began to flow into Sqia'lon Six, it has taken us much longer than we previously anticipated to arrive on our decimated sister planet.

Despite the delays, here we are now, preparing ourselves to take a last look back at our quietly humming ship. Iridescently gleaming, with feet meant to keep her balanced, her dependable walls have been home to us during our three-year voyage. We all know this may be the last time we see her. There seems to be a collective sigh as I take the remote from my flowing robes, pressing the button that will keep her invisible.

If anyone ever finds her after we are gone, they'll find a note, scrawled in the looping, twisting hand of Sqia'lon Six.

• ⦿ ⥉ ❍ ⥉ ⦿ •

If you have found our ship we have not made it back. We have been searching for the truth of what has happened to our brothers and sisters of Sqia'lon Seven. Our planet was spared because of their sacrifice in the face of the Zidd. We will not rest until we find them, or until we rest with them.

• ⦿ ⥉ ❍ ⥉ ⦿ •

We depart, with our jaws set and our hearts resolute. The wasteland of what used to be the most beautiful city in the cosmos swallowing up our small band. We walk past the domes that used to blind even the most energetic star, buildings that faintly resemble our home planet's, but are infinitely more elegant. 

Knowing that this could very well be the last time I travel with Nfrite and Serhat, I take a moment to take in the visages of my dear friends. Nfrite's brow, crisscrossed with the golden runes of her family tribe, drips with sweat. She raises one pale, bluish hand to wipe the moisture away and my heart constricts. 

Shifting my attention to Serhat I almost smile at his childlike antics. He's trying to skip through the rubble while also attempting to keep quiet. There's not a drop of worry in his forest green skin, engraved with his own looping silver runes. Tears threaten to overtake me as I dwell on their faces, their movements, and the journey we've thrown ourselves into.

Shaking myself from my reverie I take in the devastated landscape around us. Sqia'lon Seven used to be the place we all would visit as hatchlings. We'd run through the pristine, glowing streets, laughing raucously as our pointed ears flapped in the warm wind. After a day full of running and playing we'd beg our parents to transfer some money into our sensors. They knew we'd spend it all on goods from the vendor's carts and yet they'd still give it to us. It almost seems like I can still smell the spicy, smoked aroma of Ifri and taste the sweet, flaky goodness of Btri.

'All of that is gone now,' I think bitterly, 'there's nothing here but ash and death.'

Sensing my anguish, Nfrite turns to me, sadness swirling in her golden eyes. "It will be alright Kuma, we will find them. With their technology, they must be safe." 

I only sigh in response. Despite her hopeful words, we both know how unlikely it is that they are still alive. Our sister planet has been silent for too long, making it unfathomable to understand how they could possibly keep themselves sustained, cut off as they are from the rest of the universe.

As I ready my body and mind for another bout of frenzied sprinting through this land, searching for something, anything, a deep and tremulous voice comes rippling over the landscape. We all freeze in our tracks as we listen to its call.

• ⦿ ⥉ ❍ ⥉ ⦿ •

C' ah r'luh

hh' others ah nafl ph'lloig

dare l' nog

l' c' ng ymg'

ephaiah ph'nglui shuggog

cahf ymg' ahorna mgr'luh

ah'bthnk ngnah feel

fahf ah fate

ot nilgh'ri ahf' ahmgr'luh

vulgtmog ot sqia'lon yeeogngm.

• ⦿ ⥉ ❍ ⥉ ⦿ •

With only a glance between us, we take off running, our exhaustion forgotten. I can feel the muscles in my long legs contract and expand as we flow over the rubble like smooth water. The hearts in my chest beat faster and faster, both from the exertion and the nervous anticipation the voice has created in all of us. With two heads of silvery-gold and my midnight black hair, we would have seemed graceful to anyone watching with our long flowing locks. To us, however, there is only one desperate goal: Get. To. The. Voice. NOW!

As we run, the chanting continues, becoming a guide for our search. Eventually, we come to a stop, we've found it, the source of the voice. Tucked inside one of the ruined buildings, a pristine staircase made of a shifting aquamarine material leads into a cavernous abyss. Curious, Serhat hefts one of the blocks of rubble, the remains of what used to be a fluted column, casually tossing it down the stairs and into the maw of that dark beast. We wait and wait and wait, until finally, a sound like a stone hitting water echoes back to us.

The chant is deafening now, and we cover our hypersensitive ears with bits of our flowing robes before descending the stairs, a grim pallor hanging over our band. The tunnel surrounding the oddly hypnotic stairs is musty, the scent of dust and age swirling through the air. Underneath the unassuming smell however is the sharp taint of sweat and terror. Childhood fears of darkness and the monsters lurking within begin to rise up in the pit of my stomach. With a dry, heavy swallow, I attempt to force them down, instead focusing on avoiding the jagged spines of rock protruding from the damp walls.

As we make our way further and further down the stairs, multicolored eyes slowly adjusting to the utter lack of light, I can feel my mind beginning to stray. My vision starts to shift in and out of focus and my hands come up, grasping, trying to find any of the nonexistent balance. Panicked, I call out to Nfrite and Serhat but hear nothing. 'Have they left me?' As the thought leaves my mind, I suddenly find myself on the cold, hard ground. As my eyes begin to close, I see something in the darkness that makes all of my hearts stop.

Thousands of eyes, hued in the colors I remember of Sqia'lon Seven, opening in what we thought was a solitary tunnel.

• ⦿ ⥉ ❍ ⥉ ⦿ • • ⦿ ⥉ ❍ ⥉ ⦿ • • ⦿ ⥉ ❍ ⥉ ⦿ • • ⦿ ⥉ ❍ ⥉ ⦿ • • ⦿ ⥉ ❍ ⥉ ⦿ • • ⦿ ⥉ ❍ 

Pain. The first sensation that returns to my motionless body.

Groaning, I open my eyes but see nothing. The darkness is back, the eyes are gone and I am still lying on the ground of the tunnel, the stone warmed by my body's heat. Hissing in pain, I squint my eyes, straining in the darkness only to find that Nfrite and Serhat have disappeared.

I push one exhausted limb against the floor, then another, until the strength returns to my body and my limbs don't feel quite so stiff. With a slight shudder, I draw myself up to my full six feet, take a deep breath, and continue down the staircase.

I'm not here solely for Sqia'lon Seven anymore; whoever or whatever took my friends will pay.

The passage goes on for what feels like an eternity. I no longer have the quiet companionship of Nfrite or the gentle cat-like curiosity of Serhat. I'm alone on a planet of darkness and mystery, with nothing but my own soft breathing to accompany me.

"But what if you're not alone?" the darkness asks, "what if those eyes were real and you're about to meet the same fate?"

I push the thought away and realize that I'm shivering from the cold breeze coming off the water I had stepped into. Without taking a second to think, I jump in, my oversized lungs already full of the air I'll need.

It takes a second but once my body gets used to the frigid water my skin begins to emit its soft silvery glow in the water. As a semi-aquatic species, we Sqia'lon Sixes have four hearts, lungs with enough capacity to allow us to swim for hours, and skin that acts as our own aquatic lanterns. As I look around, my glow aiding me, I feel the feather-light touch of a warmer current against my upper arm and turn in that direction. With my light illuminating the origin of the current I swim frantically into the crevice.

I drag myself out of the only-slightly-less freezing water and collapse on the pebbled beach, heaving as I try to warm my body up to its normal temperature. Shaking, I survey the high, rocky ceiling, shot through with veins of the same aquamarine material as the staircase and the soft, shifting patterns of the water against the stone above. After a few minutes, my numb hands and feet warm up and I'm able to struggle to my feet. What I see when I turn around makes me wish I hadn't gotten up at all.

I wish I had died in the glacial water.

Before me is the voice, still chanting, but softer now that it knows its prey has arrived. All of a sudden I understand the chant. What we thought was the call of our lost brethren, is instead a curse. One that promises our demise, a trap we willingly walked into.

• ⦿ ⥉ ❍ ⥉ ⦿ •

We are the invisible

whom the others do not remember 

dare to come

to us and you

will be in a world

that you cannot see,

touch or feel

this is the fate

of all who seek

the Song of Sqia'lon seven.

• ⦿ ⥉ ❍ ⥉ ⦿ •

My vision blacks out as I fall to my knees, grief a crippling poison. I can only hope to wake up next to them, dear Nfrite and lovely Serhat, my amethyst eyes another facet of the wall. An existence spent belonging to the voice, no, the Song of Sqia'lon Seven.

• ⦿ ⥉ ❍ ⥉ ⦿ • • ⦿ ⥉ ❍ ⥉ ⦿ • • ⦿ ⥉ ❍ ⥉ ⦿ • • ⦿ ⥉ ❍ ⥉ ⦿ • • ⦿ ⥉ ❍ ⥉ ⦿ • • ⦿ ⥉ ❍  

Thanks so much for reading!

Tell me what you think. Till next time. :)