Oktober the Thirteenth: Migration

Where my mind found this, I cannot say.

Peace, Mari
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Migration

By Mari Kozlowski
10/13/2011

 When all the stars had settled, earthing the power of their cool essence to avoid tumult, Qi rose and began.

 “You know that the balance above has shifted and weakened. There is strain for each of us that still dance in our proper paths, and danger to those who leave them.”

 Her voice sounded tinny and shrill, even to her; a mark of her worry. Several of the others glimmered outward in subtle discomfort. They had avoided this too long.

“The problem increases, and I’ve learned that it will increase exponentially in the next gate of the dance. We must leave this system or be extinguished, one by one.”

 Many of the starfolk leapt up towards Qi, crying out like harsh bells. They moaned their pain at her news and pulled at their bright hair till Morqwai Eldest lifted his palms for silence. Peace came, gradually, and Qi spoke into it.

 “I know we’ve grown used to these patterns, the tender beauty of our dance here. The truth is a rogue, flying in our faces, but it can’t be ignored. We cannot dance in the broken pull. We must depart, and soon.”

 A single voice challenged her now; Harquata, who had been known to shift paths for amusement, risking collision with others. Of course, she wouldn’t believe in the depth of the danger they faced.

 “How do you know this, Qi?” Harquata asked, an oily shine in her tone. “Who gave you this unavoidable truth?”

 An expected question, but unpleasant anyway.

 “I’ve been communicating with some of the dwellers below. They know of our danger; they risked their own existences to find a way to tell us.”

 Shocked cries again, but Qi carried on this time.

 “They’ve found a new system for us. They have a way to guide us there, and I believe we must accept their help.”

 Harquata’s laugh cut through the whispers, and she rose against Qi.

“You’d have us believe those animals down there? The ones who’ve threaded our paths with lightless trash and broken the balance we live by? The ones that send out brash noise to confuse our senses? We should believe they mean to help us, instead of destroy us completely?”

 

She made to leave the meeting place and others gathered around her, ready to follow.

 Qi called out to the rest.

 “The dwellers themselves are suffering! The Great One destroys them as surely as their own actions. They can guide us, and even if they prove false, we can find our own way. Leaving will be hard, I know; but there will be other paths.”

 Morqwai nodded and spoke the final judgment. “We will go. With help if it is offered. At least they can give us that.”

 The hubbub of moans and whispers faltered. Harquata returned to her place, head bowed, but still sparking with discontent.

 For the next thousand years, their last thousand years, the denizens of that small spiral galaxy watched their night skies darkening, bit by bit, till the sight of starlight had become a myth. Children born in the final centuries disbelieved stories that spoke of such points of light; and nursery rhymes about twinkling were taken as nonsense.

 But far, far beyond, in a deep pocket of space that once knew only emptiness beside its large star and spinning satellites, new light sparked and flowed, inspiring many dwellers of many of those worlds. Some of them even captured the joy of the dance as if they could not only see it, but feel it vibrating outward from the limbs of the stars in the wealth of a clear night sky.