Salt and Starlight

The world is not like what it once was.

For there was a time before the kindling of fire and the building of monuments. A time that existed before humanity had yet to draw breath. It only does so now because of a chance meeting between a stubborn traveler and a curious spirit.

Had they not met, you would not be reading this story. In fact, you would cease to exist entirely.

It all started with cosmic explorers in search of water. Those were the days of the Great Thirst. A desert plague that drove them from their home world, and the reason they first came upon the uninhabited blue planet.

They purified the water.

And then they drank.

They drank until their bellies could not take another drop. Until the ocean itself shrank. Upon orders from their commander, they filled their tanks with enough reserves to last them two years. Long enough to find a new planet to settle.

But one among them had reservations.

“Why would we leave when we’ve already found a suitable planet? It is boundless with water. We will never thirst again,” Ethar said, trailing after her commander.

“There is nothing else for us here. No life. No land. Only water that we cannot drink plainly,” he replied without looking back.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sir.”

He twisted around, stern-faced.

“And what exactly am I wrong about?”

“According to reports regarding the water samples we took, there is actually an abundance of life within the sea’s depths. More than enough to sustain us. I suspect even more is out there. And as far as there being no land, we have our ships. They are both buoyant and submersible.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“We are leaving tomorrow. That is final.”

“I have no desire to return to a life of uncertainty, sir. There is as much promise here as anywhere else in the galaxy.”

He groaned, “Fine, then stay. I’m tired of your insubordination. Live your life in a salty abyss if you wish, but do not expect us to return for you.”

“What if the others agree with me?”

“By all means, ask them,” he said with a twitch of his lips.

And she did, but none would risk leaving their fleet. So Ethar remained, abandoned by her people.

For 200 days and 200 nights, Ethar was alone.

All she had left was her ship, which her legion’s fleet let her keep, and her scouting bird, Piri. She did not allow herself to regret her decision, though. Isolation was grating, but her will was stronger.

On the 201st day, an alarm woke Ethar from slumber. One that should not have been possible to activate. An alarm designed to alert ship personnel to unidentified life forms aboard.

At first, Ethar had written it off as a malfunction. Not only had there been no breach, but the daily sonar scans she took showed no evidence of non-nautical sentience on the planet. Therefore, the only life forms aboard should have belonged to her and Piri.

But when she scanned the ship for life signs on her datapad just to be certain, another one appeared. One with biometrics unrecognizable by the ship’s system.

She wasn’t alone.

Footsteps sounded down the metal hall, light but purposefully sounding. Whoever or whatever it was wanted Ethar aware of its presence. She grabbed her utility knife from her nightstand.

The footsteps grew closer until they stopped just on the other side of her cabin door.

Ethar gripped the knife, focusing on steadying her breath. She was a researcher, not a soldier. But all in her legion had been ordered to learn combat in case of emergencies. Ethar would not go down so easily.

The control panel to her cabin door, one that should only be accessible by keycard, lit. The metal door then slid open, and she clenched her jaw.

Only to reveal a man.

A man with features very similar to hers. Ethar thought that perhaps her people had come back for her, but then she noticed their subtle differences. Whereas Ethar’s ears were pointed, the creature before her had rounded tips. Her eyes were a deep brown, like the rest of her people. But the man’s eyes were as blue as the sea, with flecks of green—the color of life.

Ethar forced herself to breathe. To regain control of her body. She pointed the knife at the intruder.

“Who are you? Why are you aboard my ship?”

The mysterious man smiled, stirring an uncomfortable pull in Ethar’s stomach.

The moments of stunned silence passed, and Ethar realized her mistake. Of course, the stranger couldn’t speak to her—

“Adonis. That is my name,” he said.

“How can you—”

“Let’s just say,” he cut in, “I’m rather intuitive.”

Ethar straightened, pushing down the strange sensation he’d awakened in her. She lifted her knife higher.

“You didn’t answer my other question.”

Adonis dipped his chin. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you. I merely came to introduce myself.”

She raised a brow.

“You couldn’t have knocked?”

Adonis grinned wider, showing a hint of twin dimples.

“I must say, you are far more interesting than I thought you’d be.”

Ethar blushed, clearing her throat.

“What does that mean?”

“It’s not every day I get to meet an alien.”

She scrunched her nose. “I’m not an alien, you are!”

“It is my world you came to, is it not? That makes you the foreigner.”

He had a point. But Ethar didn’t like the challenge in his eyes. He knew he was right and was relishing ‌her blunder.

“How long have you known I was here?”

He shrugged, wandering around the room as if he were welcome to do so. He picked up some of her research and inspected the binding. Then he moved to stand before her, almost lazily.

“I saw your bird flying several months back and was mesmerized. As you have probably already figured out, few live here that do so above sea level.”

“If you’ve known about me for that long, why wait to introduce yourself?”

“And open myself up to potential danger.” His eyes fixed on the knife, and Ethar dropped her hand to her side. “I had to make sure you meant me and my people no harm.”

“Your people? There are more like you?”

“All who dwell here are my people.”

“So, you’re their king?”

“I am the guardian of this world, but I am not its ruler.”

Was there much of a difference? Ethar wasn’t sure. It was just one of many questions coursing through her mind.

“May I ask your name?”

“Ethar.”

“Ethar,” he repeated, almost as if he were savoring it. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I must go now, but I will see you tomorrow.”

She furrowed her brow. “I don’t need a guardian watching over me.”

“How about a friend?”

The word struck her, making her flinch back. She dropped her gaze to the floor, struggling to find a response. She’d never truly had a friend. Ethar had many colleagues and acquaintances from her legion, but she’d never known one intimately enough to call a friend.

When she looked up, Adonis was gone.

Adonis held true to his word and visited her the next day. And the day after that. Ethar quickly became accustomed to his company, even growing to look forward to it. Some days, he brought gifts, gathered from the deepest reaches of the abyss. Seashells and various other aquatic items that Ethar loved to study and catalog. Other days, they would converse over a game of chess, and Adonis would listen to Ethar’s tales of space travel.

Ethar wasn’t sure when her feelings for Adonis first began. She knew only that they were rooted deep. And she feared that if she pulled them out, she would end up removing a piece of herself with them.

Ethar grunted when Adonis’ rook took her king.

He’d won. Again.

He’d taken to learning the game very well. Too well, actually. In fact, he’d never lost. It was almost as if he anticipated her moves. But that was impossible, unless—

Ethar looked up from the board and was met with Adonis’ knowing eyes.

“You can read minds?” Her face turned red. “That’s cheating! Not to mention completely inappropriate and a violation of my privacy!”

Adonis shrugged.

“You never asked me not to.”

She scoffed, “That’s a logical fallacy, and I will not hear it. We have known each other for three months, and you never once revealed that crucial information to me. You can’t possibly still think I’m a threat to you and your people.”

“I admit I first concealed my abilities as a matter of self-protection. But one look into your mind, and I learned you were not a danger.”

“Then why continue to deceive me?”

“I did not hide my power intentionally, but out of fear. How would you confess that you have repeatedly looked into the mind of your closest companion? Would that not ruin the trust you’ve built? Would that not make them turn from you? ”

Ethar opened her mouth to speak, but Adonis continued.

“Especially when they just started to really look at you.”

Ethar’s breath came in short pants that she tried to suppress.

“How long have you known?”

Adonis smirked.

“Known what?”

“The time for games has passed. Tell me.”

Adonis’ smile fell, and his face grew serious.

“I sensed your attraction the moment we met.”

Ethar looked away.

“Well, this is embarrassing.” Adonis reached for her hand, but she pulled it back. “I think you should go now.”

Adonis stood wordlessly.

“You can disappear too, right?”

He turned back, surprised. “Yes. I am the guardian spirit of this world. I may take any form or lack thereof as I choose.”

“So you aren’t even real?”

“This is the form I am most comfortable with. But my ability to take others does not make me any less real.”

“Go,” she muttered, “and don’t bother coming back.”

He remained still for a heartbeat or two before moving to exit.

“I never meant to hurt you.”

With that, he vanished.

He didn’t visit the next day. Or the day after that.

It was day 700, and still he had not returned. Ethar realized he meant to stay away forever. It was what she had asked for—what she thought she wanted—but it had been a lie. She was still angry, rightfully so, but it had dulled into a different ache. The kind that longed for closeness over separation.

The only problem was that she didn’t know how to find him. The world was expansive; there was no way to search all of it. Not when he could avoid her if he wished. She stood against the outer deck railing of her ship and stared up at the constellations covering the night sky.

Piri came to rest on her shoulder and squawked. She petted his head and said, “I miss them too.”

And she did. She missed her people and all the places she had ventured. But that was not the strongest yearning in her heart. Not any longer.

“If you can hear me,” she whispered. “Come back.”

She felt it like a kiss of the breeze against her skin. Her lungs filled with air that pressed against her sternum, fighting for release. But she couldn’t let go. Piri took off into the sky just as she slowly turned.

There he stood, only a few paces away.

A second passed, and Adonis wondered if Ethar had not been referring to him. Wondering if he had been wrong to assume she wanted his presence. He could not read the look on her face and had vowed not to look into her mind again.

“Please,” she said. “Please don’t go.”

That was all he needed to hear.

With only a few steps, they collided in a tangle of arms. It was Adonis’ first embrace, but it would certainly not be his last. He loved the feel of her body against his. Her warmth soothed his soul in a way he never knew he needed.

“I missed you,” she muttered into his shoulder.

He pulled back and stared into the depths of her brown eyes. Eyes that reminded him of the foundation of his world. His foundation.

“As I did you. More than you know.”

When their lips finally met, it was tender and languid. Unlike the moments of heat and passion that would surely follow it, the first was meant to linger.

Adonis never left Ethar’s side after that. They were as inseparable as air and breathing.

One night, while they lay wrapped together under the stars, Adonis felt his chest grow damp.

“Why do you cry?” he asked Ethar, wiping the stray tear from her cheek.

“I miss my people.”

Silence stretched between them, and Ethar curled further into his chest.

“What if I were to give you another?” he whispered in a kiss upon her head.

“How?”

Adonis put a hand to her stomach and tipped Ethar’s chin up to meet his eyes.

“You would do that?”

“Darling, I would split the seas and raise the Earth if it would make you happy.”

Another tear fell.

“Earth?”

“That is what our world shall be called.”

She stilled. “Why?”

“Because every letter in it is perfect, and selfishly, belongs in yours.”

Ethar beamed, surging up to kiss his cheek.

“But you’re the guardian. Can you make such promises?”

“I protect what I love,” Adonis said, pushing a stray hair behind Ethar’s ear. “And what I love is life—and you.”

So now you understand. You are the creation and culmination of eternal souls, of stubbornness and curiosity. You climbed from the sea as surely as you descended from the sky.

Of salt and starlight, you are one.