F L O W
Kytrand
The Deep Core
The Sacred Deserts
The Deep Core
The Sacred Deserts
It had been a great many days since the vessel had flown its roost, stealing away the boy from a hangar suspended in space and time and propelling him across the Galaxy on some unknown pursuit. A wild goose chase, that was what Uncle Theryn would have called it, a random journey to Force-knew-where, for Force-knew-why. A pit formed in his stomach as he once again pictured his guardians frantically searching for their ward to no avail. He was not in Mercuitie any more, not even the great Ámathosi Desert spread out before him. All he could see through the viewing port were the endless streaks of starlight passing them by; it had been a terrifying sight at first, but now it was simply... there.
The android had been of little help to him, it would not speak when spoken to, would not move, would not direct, and so Starlin had been forced to exist around it, without it, in that hollow metal shell. Forced to figure it all out for himself. He'd found the refresher first, then the simple galley, and finally a place to rest his head. There were books there, countless books made of flimsiplast that spoke of a great many things Starlin could not wrap his head around.
A great turning point had been the discovery of the ship's manual, tucked away within the cockpit. Starlin had spent much of his travel time pouring over it, trying to make sense of the various buttons and switches that made up the control panel, walking the length and depth of the vessel with a floorplan in hand, and - perhaps most importantly to Starlin - seeking a way to get the pilot android to respond.
The latter had been and remained the hardest, most frustrating part, but whenever he felt himself becoming overwhelmed or upset by it Starlin would take a break to meditate, to breathe, just as Theryn had taught him to. There was no obstacle he could not overcome if he remained calm and focused, and the Valkyri's words echoed in his mind throughout.
He could not tell exactly how much time had passed, he tracked it solely by way of his internal body clock. How often had he been hungry, and accessed the galley to eat? How many times had he laid down to rest? It was impossible to know for certain, but he got the feeling that at least eight days had passed before he felt that sudden lurch that came as they exited hyperspace.
Starlin rushed to the cockpit, staring out of the viewing port to the sight of a world spread out below. First an orb of greens, blues, and browns, then as more of it took over the port and the endless abyss of stars was blotted out, browns became more orangey-yellow, then tanned, before a vast desert lay before them. Deserts Starlin understood, deserts Starlin knew, his home might have lay upon an oasis but all around was red and orange rock, all around was sand-and-stone.
Was he home again?
Had all of this been some strange nightmare?
But Mercuitie did not manifest before him, the way it had when he had been a boy coming around that riverbend, in fact nothing particularly stood out to him at all. The odd ruin half submerged in sand, crumbled and lost to time, perhaps, but nothing of substance.
Then, a blip, a reflection caught in the sun. Metallic, and growing larger with each passing minute.
It took some time for Starlin to recognize it as a fellow starship, after all he had never seen one before finding himself in that hangar however many days prior it might have been.
"What are you doing?" the boy asked the android, as the ship began to land, "Is this it? What is it? Where are we?"
Silence reigned.
