Nash wrapped herself in a fleece blanket, walked halfway down the exit ramp of the ship, and sat there, waiting. As she gazed out at the frosted landscape she regretted not bringing warmer clothes, but fresh air was a higher priority at the moment. Her hair was still damp from the post hydro shower, and she barely had time to dry it before being compelled to go outside. Four weeks afloat may have saved her mind, but the body had its own needs. The idea of getting right back into the goo after takeoff didn’t thrill her either. Maybe after a day, she told herself. Though the thought of that great cosmic discomfort, that indescribable torturous droning one encountered when passing through distant space drove her to reconsider. It wasn’t perceptible on the surface of this world, but even now she could envision the vaporous, planet-sized terrors which surely floated between the stars. If it weren’t for the still serenity of her present surroundings, she wouldn’t be able to sit so patiently and watch the tree line for movement.

  The landing site was exactly the same as before, a small glade at the edge of a forest. It was as close as she dared to get to the real target. All around the gentle carpet of snow sparkled in the lavender twilight, while a few pale stars twinkled overhead. By looking at the sky, she couldn’t even tell which way east and west were. Here was a perfectly directionless little world with no intrinsic concept of time, and it was maddening. Even the silence of the forest became unnerving after a while. The dark, sparsely decorated trees didn’t move for the lack of a breeze. And shouldn’t there have been at least a few living things to rustle leaves and break twigs? “This world may as well be a tomb. I’d rather rot in Atlanta space traffic than come here one more time,” she thought.

  “You won’t have to. Let’s leave!” A voice called from the trees. It was hoarse and urgent, crashing through the quiet world almost as fast as its bearer. No sooner had the shock set in than a cloaked figure ran out of the woods and sprinted up the ramp into the ship, nearly tripping over the frightened pilot. Nash turned and scrambled up after the intruder, leaving the blanket behind.

  “Hey!” She shouted as she crossed the threshold, hands aglow and ready for violence. “Just what do you think you’re do –”

  “Enough! do you want them to hear us?” Said the outsider with increasing strain. “Let’s go!”

  “Wait,” said Nash, lowering her defenses. It was hard to believe her eyes in that moment. “It’s really you, isn’t it?’

  “Yes,” said Sohrab. “Now get this thing off the ground!”

  #

  Out in the empty void, the ship careened back toward the denser, more civilized part of the galaxy, the strange, cold world a fading memory now. As they settled into their course, Nash activated the autopilot, then left her seat to return to the living quarters. It was time to evaluate the passenger. Haggard though he may be, this was in fact Sohrab, the boy she and Kory had spent their whole lives with until the most recent year, though it seemed now his youth was farther in the rear-view than his home planet.

  He sat on a bench against the wall, his hands folded, and his hollow gaze affixed to the floor. She let him go on disassociating for a moment so she could get a good look at him. When they dropped him off previously, he was forgettable in spite of his odd coloration, with a slight build, fresher face, and shorter hair that hung no further than his ears. Today he seemed an entirely different person, a man, in fact. His face was aged in a way that spoke of strange experiences, perhaps too many of them. Even more remarkable was the dense curtain of hair that draped down to his waist. It was still ice white and devoid of pigment, just like his skin, though each bore more than a little dirt and grime.

  “Who were you running from?” She drew near, thinking she might lay a hand on the rough, dark green cloak he wore over his strange primitive clothing, but decided against it for his attire was filthier than he was. “Were they your people?”

  “They were,” he nearly whispered. The voice he spoke with rang so unusual. It made her wonder if she even remembered what he sounded like before. “And they weren’t going to let me leave, I’m sure of it.”

  “You managed to call me though, so obviously you kept the transmitting ring I gave you.” She was proud of herself for remembering that one. Kory had thought it a waste of time, but Nash didn’t feel right leaving him completely marooned.

  “I called you before the worst of it. I knew I had to leave because I had this…” He chose his next words carefully, not wanting to give it all away just yet. “… just trust me when I say that things were starting to go bad. It will take a long time for me to explain.”

  She took a seat beside him. “You don’t have to get to it all right now, but on a lighter note, what are we going to do about all of…this?” She joked, lifting a thick handful of hair to inspect the length. Her own hair only reached past her shoulder blades, and that was considered long enough for a woman on Celhesru.

  “I can’t cut it.” He said, keeping his eyes on the floor. “It’s the custom, you see. We all grow it this long.”

  “I didn’t mean cut it,” she reassured. “But maybe for now we can wash it? It looks like the whole woods hitched a ride on your head.”

  “I suppose you have a point.” He breathed a sigh of relief and cracked a sad smile. “I can’t imagine I’m pleasant to sit near.”

  “You do smell like death.” She teased, her face in a pinched grin.

  “Things were so different there. I started to forget after a while…” he said, as he shrugged off the cloak, to reveal a set of square, bony shoulders beneath a threadbare shirt.

  “I’m sure they were, but first, you should go get cleaned up.” She rose and opened a cabinet to fetch a towel, wondering if Greg had abandoned any men’s clothes back in the sleeping quarters. It hadn’t been that long since the rest of them were all together, and he was so flippant with his stuff. They really had left this ship in a hurry last time, hadn’t they?

  He emerged from the shower some thirty minutes later, wearing a black robe and gray sweatpants that Greg indeed left behind. The color choices were sublime, considering any amount of actual pigment would have further emphasized his garish lack of complexion.

  After a little plying with some of the leftover Cuanerel Cab Franc, of which he was more than eager to accept, he agreed to let her give him just a trim. Only to add dimension, he insisted. It mustn’t be visibly shorter. Though he’d run away from his society, some cultural aspects he couldn’t abandon. Together, they laughed and shared pleasantries as she lifted each strand and clipped away the split ends without the touch of her hand or a blade; a welcome exercise in telekinetic precision. At the end of the process, it was still almost as long as it had been, but with some longer layers built in to reduce the weight, and some shorter layers bordering on fringe up front to frame his face. Nash felt his forehead was weird and needed obscuring.

  When Sohrab looked in the mirror, his tired, brown eyes lit up at last. Nash could see he was thrilled with the new style, eccentric instead of creepy. But nevertheless, he was fading fast. She bade him take some rest, insisting he would have nothing but time to tell his story later.

  #

  The two decided to wait another day before entering hydro-stasis, deliberately ignoring the resonance plaguing them all the way from the edge of the galaxy, drowning it out instead with conversation and more wine. She hadn’t drunk as much as when the one who bought the wine was here, but Sohrab had this charming way about him, and he kept the glasses filled without being asked. After much meandering the two decided to get to the necessary business of unraveling his experience on his home world. Nash was eager to learn about all of it, especially the part which compelled him to run away.

  “When last you left me, I walked away into the woods, do you remember?” He asked softly as he reclined beside her on the one small couch in the ship’s living quarters. With an uncharacteristic confidence, he wrapped an arm around her and bid her rest her head on his shoulder. When he felt her relax, he laid his own head on hers, and they gazed together at the rushing, blurred lights outside the window. “Is this too close?”

  “It’s fine,” she yawned. Nash snuggled up to Kory like this all the time, so she didn’t think it a big deal to do the same with another friend.

  “The level of contact we all had back there was far from typical,” he said. “Did I tell you we all slept in a big pile?”

  “No, you didn’t,” said Nash, summoning a blanket from across the room to join them.

  “Men and women alike, it was the most bizarre thing. Sometimes a pair would break away from the group to, you know, visit privately with one another. But it was all unspoken and understood, you see. I’m not saying the social order wasn’t stratified, it absolutely was… except it wasn’t either. It’s hard to describe, the more I think about it.” He rambled.

  “I think you should start at the beginning.” She hoped this new tendency of his to wander aimlessly through a conversation wouldn’t become a habit. Nash seldom enjoyed the company of inefficient storytellers.

  “Of course, how forgetful of me,” he laughed. His voice sounded better now, smoother than before. But there was still something off. Every few words or so she thought she caught a hint of an accent she couldn’t place.

  “You’re going to have to stay on track too,” she teased. “I’m pretty tired.”

  “I’m sure of it. It must be the middle of the longer night back at home.” He pulled the blanket up to her shoulders.

  “It is,” she yawned again, her eyes only half open now.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “I must admit I’m glad to return to that world. Living in an endless evening helped me to understand why I never fully locked into the rhythm of Celhesru, you know, intrinsically. But it also left in me this longing for the true blackness of night. It was as if I couldn’t think, or even function without that interlude of darkness.” He was wandering again.

  “Will you please just get it together?” Nash mumbled, circling the drain of unconsciousness.

  “I will, my dear one,” he soothed. “And it will all seem like a dream to you, as if you were there.” His voice sank lower, until the only physical sensation left was the vibration of his quiet murmuring. He was right about the dreaming. As she drifted off to sleep beside him, she saw everything he wanted her to see in the hazy, pleasant shades of memory; like being inside of a watercolor painting.

  When first we landed on the world of my people, you may remember there was snow on the ground, and not a single sound could be heard. As I left you, I walked north, the way you told me to, though it was further than we both imagined. You’ll recall how violet, how delicate the sky was, with but a few stars therein. Those same stars you said goodbye to carried me all the way home, through thickets, and over ravines, and across little, rocky streams with thin sheets of ice over top. In the undergrowth a creature may have moved, but I couldn’t be sure as I was so single-mindedly focused on finding my destination. The journey grew long, and I was ill-prepared. Exhaustion was setting in, but what choice had I but to fight against it? As I stumbled out at last from the dreadful forest, I beheld the strangest sort of settlement I had ever seen in my life. Crude wooden structures, all connected, formed some sort of hive or cluster of sorts. Tendrils of smoke rose from parts of it, and I heard the bleating of livestock further within. The wood buildings seemed to converge on a large stone structure in the center. It was several stories high, and more elaborately built than everything around it, but they were connected to one another all the same. I got the impression that inside were rooms and passageways without end, so many in fact, that one could live a whole lifetime in there without having to go outside. In time, I came to wish I had been wrong. On my approach a small crowd came to meet me. I knew from the first sight of them that my adjustment would not be without some difficulty.

  They looked nothing like me. Of course, we were all the same shade of silver starlight, but that’s where the similarities ended. Their hair was impossibly long. Their clothing looked ancient, all in shades of brown and green, and their collective countenance was dirty, petrified, and altogether na?ve. I tried to speak to them, but not one word escaped my lips before they surrounded me and hurried me inside. It was in these odd, little wooden rooms that I learned their ways over a period of months. Communication came easier than expected, and I soon shared in their menial labor while I waited on my hair to grow out.

  After some time, I became vexed by the fact that no one seemed to know where my original family had gone, or how I had come to end up on another planet at just a few years old. They couldn’t comprehend the concept of planets, and the idea of lineage was not their concern for they lived all as one. They claimed the only ones who had any business fretting over ‘ancestry’ had sequestered themselves in the castle long ago because they didn’t want to live in the ‘real world.’ That’s what the stone structure was, by the way, a castle. Where I resided in that moment was solidly a village.

  It was hard to slip away, with us being so codependent as a group. Everyone knew what everyone else was doing at all times. I had no idea how much worse it would soon become, but I needed answers. And if I’m being perfectly honest, I hadn’t come all this way to live as a peasant, grateful though I was to them. When my hair reached at least past my shoulders, I felt the time was right to journey out of the muck and onto a proper floor for a change. I made my way into the castle when the majority of the people were asleep. Seeing as there was no true night it was challenging to find time to lurk around, but they did tend to sleep in groups so that was to my advantage. I entered through a stone door facing a courtyard, preferring to take some air before heading inside instead of attempting to navigate the nonsensical system of passageways that linked shacks to barns to yet other needless walkways.

  Once inside the halls, I found myself more perplexed than before, but blessedly curious. Curiosity, true intrigue, had eluded me for months. The same spark which drove me to this lost world was rekindled at last and I felt a singular need to get as lost as possible. On I wandered through the twisting corridors, utterly forgetting myself. Hunger, thirst, and fatigue, all vanished to a whisper. A sort of mad enlightenment washed over me, as if I was living outside of time. How long had I walked, was it hours, or days? The whole place made no sense. It was built of a sort of faded, reddish stone and the scale of it didn’t track with what I’d seen on the outside. But as I recall, there was a staircase here or there, so it’s entirely possible I was underground at some point, or above it. Come to think of it, I don’t remember many windows.

  The sight of another person shocked me almost as much as it did when I first emerged from the woods to see the village. I felt filthy, guilty even. I knew I wasn’t supposed to be there. Even though I could sense her approaching before she turned the corner, she caught me unaware all the same. She had green eyes, braided hair down to her knees, and she was dressed in a much finer grade of fabric than I had seen thus far. One might even call her lovely. I couldn’t make myself clear to her or even begin to justify my presence, but she seemed to understand better than I did. No assertion was required of me, for before the thought left my mind she took me by the hand and led me away to a large circular chamber.

  It was a sort of grand hall, or perhaps it once was. Within were the members of some supposed upper class, going about whatever they believed to be their business to be. My recent experience with actual labor led me to imagine they sat about wasting time all day. They gathered unceasingly to do little more than share information and ‘meditate’ in their strange rituals, all while robed in their finery and swimming in an endless sea of wine. For the life of me, I still cannot understand from whence they procured their resources, for I never once saw any one of these people interact with the peasants who lived outside their walls, nor did I see those same peasants produce anything as nice as was in here.

  After an overly long exchange of details, they ascertained my purpose and assigned me a key role in their collective destiny and foundational myth. Unlike my first, less privileged hosts, this group seemed to understand, vaguely, the concept of a world beyond their own, though they lacked the scientific vocabulary to define the notion. This was still a primitive society as far as I was concerned, and even this apparent nobility stuck to mystic and imprecise terms. Thankfully, they also seemed to grasp the concept of ancestry to a point. Or at least I think they did. They brought up their ‘fathers’ a lot, though they didn’t seem to know who mine was. It took a while for me to realize they weren’t talking about certain men in particular, but rather an idea of ancient progenitors.

  Just like the commoners outside, they lived as codependently as you could imagine. Sleeping in another damned pile every night, sharing partners, not knowing their exact parentage. I had trouble wrapping my head around it. The few children I did see clung to their mothers like newborns up until the age of five, then they seemed to run feral for a bit before adulthood. Not that I saw many children, though. But I digress…I know I’m wandering again. And I promise it will all make sense soon, my dear one. Sometimes I remember more than I mean to.

  They called me the Prince from the Stars; presumptuous, I know. But I genuinely believe they didn’t have another way to explain anything about me or the environment I had grown up in, so they did their best to wedge me into their world view. They dressed me in their silk robes and kept me occupied with these bizarre rites in which they attempted to channel the ‘spirit of their fathers.’ This involved me sitting in the center of the floor with them all around me while we emptied our minds of all but one thought… accomplishing what exactly? I’m not sure. They must have known I wasn’t fully committed, and yet they placed their faith in me anyways, leading me through every inch of that accursed place, presenting me with all they promised would be mine. I even managed to see a window or two on an upper floor. But they hadn’t invented glass yet, so it was more than a little drafty. In a few dark chambers below the ground, they showed me some strange, old books. No one was able to read them. Certainly not I. The whole scheme they were running reeked of rot and delusion.

  It was when the seeds of doubt grew in my mind that their mechanisms to secure me became more overt. The flattery, decadence, and outright worship accelerated to the point of ridiculousness, all of it punctuated with more of that strange wine they were drinking. I can’t begin to imagine how it was produced in that awful climate. It tasted something like a rosé, but yellower? If you had been there, you’d know what I meant. Irrespective of all this, I needed it the stupider things got. And got, they did. Before long, they wished for me to join in some ceremony, I suppose you could call it a marriage, with the only surviving child of the last ‘king,’ so to speak. Here now for years I had assumed everyone belonged to everyone, but apparently this one invented lineage was important. I didn’t buy it. Not to mention I wasn’t so impressed by this ‘princess’ they presented me with. She wasn’t the attractive, green-eyed girl I’d met at first, but a friend of hers. Needless to say, all of this might have been tolerable for a while longer if what happened next hadn’t inspired me to finally plan my escape and contact you.

  Just before the culmination of all of their efforts to contain me, at last I received a vision. Though it wasn’t one I could share, for it was not the one they wanted me to have. In sleep I was permitted to dream of being an individual once more. I saw the night, the true night, illuminated by more than a few gleaming stars. There was no mistaking that I was to leave them and rejoin you all here. I escaped from the suffocating pile but for a moment and managed to make my way outside to activate the ring, ensuring it had an unobstructed shot at the sky, and not entrapped by dense stone walls as was I. The cold air emboldened me. There was nothing I wanted less than to return inside, but I sadly knew the time was not yet at hand. Somehow, they sensed something wasn’t right. And yet, they still hinged their hope of salvation on me. I was supposed to lead them out of this dark age and back into whatever shining paradise they imagined they came from. It was all hopeless, as they would never see that which they were not capable of understanding.

  And that, my dear Encarnacion, is why I was in such a hurry when you found me again. I was certain they pursued me, and I could let nothing hinder my escape. I needed to return to you, to Koritsa, no matter the cost. They would have been disappointed if I’d stayed anyway. I couldn’t help them. The least I could do was show them that sooner rather than later.

  “Does that all make sense to you?” he whispered, her head still on his shoulder.

  “Hmm? Yeah, it does.” Nash’s eyes bolted open, and she sat up at once. “I can’t believe how real it all was. I didn’t fall asleep did I?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Sohrab said as he rose from the couch to stretch. “But I wouldn’t blame you, it was a lot to get through. I was there for years after all so a lot of it I had to gloss over.” He walked across the small room to gaze out the window, where the rapidly oscillating light and darkness served as their only scenery on this faster than light voyage. “What do you suppose would happen if suddenly a hole was torn in the hull of this ship?”

  “We would cease to exist in an instant,” Nash answered, baffled by his off-putting question at this late hour but equally baffled by the statement that came before it. “And what do you mean by years?” she asked. “You were gone for almost one.”

  “Time dilation.” He replied. “It’s worse out there.”

  “Are you sure you know how that works?” Nash yawned again. She stood up and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders before shuffling over to the kitchen/lab to make some tea. “Asking all these weird questions, what is he on?”

  “The spectrum…” he continued. “…of time and gravity, as I understand them, imply that time moves slower at the center of the galaxy because of the high spatial distortion from the immense force of all that mass. Therefore, shouldn’t the opposite also be true? Time had to be passing faster on my planet because it was at the very edge.”

  “Wasn’t the gravity the same though?” She retorted, bleary-eyed and searching for her favorite mug. “Did you feel any lighter out there?”

  “Never mind lighter, I feel older now. I’m sure of it.” Sohrab turned from the window to look at Nash, but saw only the back of her head. He stared right through it.

  “I’m sure there’s multiple explanations, besides just time dilation,” she said, dropping a paper sachet into the cup. “He had about as much use for that physics degree as he did this gap year in the holler.”