Tidings of the Stars

My breath caught as I ran through the narrow alleys on the outskirts of the city. Sunset bled across the horizon in streaks of purple and orange, the last light reflecting off stone walls blackened by centuries of smoke and rain. Curfew was already in effect. Soon darkness would swallow the streets entirely.

The night was my greatest ally.

Charcoal leather boots struck the cobblestones in a steady rhythm while a floor-length hooded cloak concealed most of my features. At a distance, I was little more than a silhouette slipping between shadows.

As I stepped out of an alley, a young girl froze.

Her eyes locked onto mine as the color drained from her face.

She bolted toward a nearby man and grabbed his hand.

“I saw him, Daddy! Her voice cracked with panic. “It was the night monster.”

Wonderful.

Before the man could react, I pivoted back into the alley and climbed. My gloves found the rough stone easily, and moments later I pulled myself onto the rooftop. The hood slipped from my head as I rolled behind a low ledge and flattened against the weathered tiles.

Security officers flooded the street within seconds. Flashlights swept through the alley below while voices echoed between the buildings.

A little girl spots me once, and suddenly the entire neighborhood mobilizes.

I pushed myself up only for my head to slam into a clothesline stretched between rooftops.

“Argh!”

The rope snapped taut—a hanging shirt caught in my grip, staining crimson.

Great. Now I’m vandalizing laundry.

The garment fell away as I took off again.

The pouch beneath my cloak bounced against my side. The sealed message inside mattered far more than my dignity. Below me, the city noises faded with every leap. The last traces of daylight surrendered to evening, and cool air brushed against my face as my grav-boots absorbed most of the impact, allowing me to cross rooftops in long, silent arcs.

By the time the hangar came into view, the final shuttle departures were only minutes away.

I descended an exterior maintenance ladder and slipped toward the rear entrance.

My boots touched the ground behind the structure, and some of the tension eased from my shoulders.

Almost there.

“Stop right there!”

The rough voice shattered the thought.

“Do not make any sudden moves.”

I raised my gloved hands and turned slowly.

The guard’s confidence lasted exactly one second.

As I straightened, I towered over him by more than a head. His eyes widened.

“You…”

His gaze traveled over my pale, scarred face before drifting lower. The evening lights flickered throughout the district, casting silver light across the tattoos covering my neck and bare arms. The markings responded instantly, glowing under my skin like embers waking beneath ash.

Fear settled into his expression—a familiar reaction.

The guard reached for his weapon

Too slow.

A pulse from my grav-gloves launched him backward. He hit the cobblestones hard, and before he could recover, I was on top of him. One hand covered his mouth while the other found a pressure point along his neck.

His body relaxed.

Unconscious.

Voices carried around the corner of the building.

Too close.

“Let’s go have some dinner after their shift ends.”

The words carried through the evening air along with the scent of machine oil and cooling engines.

Another guard snorted.

“You know, with the new curfew, that’s not happening. We’re lucky if we even get to go outside after this sweep.”

I dragged the guard into a cluster of bushes moments before they appeared. Neither of them spared a glance in my direction as they continued arguing.

Good.

Keep talking.

I remained still until their voices faded. After securing the unconscious man to a nearby tree, I adjusted my cloak and slipped back toward the hangar entrance.

The message in my pouch suddenly felt heavier than before.

The increasing patrols meant time was running out.

I circled the structure, studying the windows as I went. Most were narrow observation slits designed for security rather than access.

Not happening.

The floor vibrated faintly beneath my boots as shuttles prepared for departure. Through the metal walls came the constant hum of engines, the hiss of hydraulic systems, and the occasional burst of laughter from workers finishing their shifts.

Cargo loaders moved steadily across landing pads while hover boxes glided into open ramps under armed supervision.

A flash of color caught my attention.

Amid the constant activity, a container nearly the size of a refrigeration unit hovered a few inches above the ground. Its crystal-blue glow washed across the metal decking in shifting waves. Faint currents moved beneath the dark liquid, hinting at something large within.

One guard guided it carefully while another walked beside him.

“Be careful with that one,” the first muttered.

The second nodded.

“And don’t make eye contact,” he said, flatly pointing at the murky water.

A strange warning.

The guard’s tightened jaw told me he wasn’t joking.

Curiosity was rarely a useful survival instinct.

Unfortunately, I had never possessed much self-preservation.

Raising both hands at a nearby stack of delivery crates, I activated my grav-gloves. A deep vibration pulsed through before the crates shot sideways and exploded against a support column.

The crash echoed through the loading bay, rattling the walls.

Shouts erupted moments later.

“You four! With me,” a guard yelled. “The others, round the back. Now!”

They abandoned their positions and rushed to the wreckage, while the alarm bells chirped briefly before falling silent. Using the confusion, I climbed onto the rooftop, crossed above the growing crowd, and descended near the main doors.

Nobody noticed.

Their eyes remained fixed on the damaged cargo.

My turn.

Inside, the large container sat alone.

The closer I approached, the quieter the rest of the place seemed to become, as though the tank swallowed sound itself. Blue water swirled slowly behind the transparent barrier. My fingers settled over the weapon holstered at my side.

Something shifted beneath the surface.

The water rotated in a slow circle before a shadowy shape appeared and vanished—a glimpse of iridescent scales, the faint reflection of a claw. Then nothing.

The shape continued circling.

Watching.

Waiting.

Every instinct urged caution. The guards had been afraid, and now I understood why.

The figure emerged nearer the transparent barrier, its distorted features gradually sharpening into focus. A large hand appeared from the darkness first, its fingers ending in curved black claws.

Without realizing it, I had stepped closer and lifted my own.

The creature mirrored the motion, pressing its obsidian claws against the opposite side of the glass.

A chill crawled along the back of my neck. The hair along my arms rose beneath the cloak as the figure came forth from the depths.

Dark scales shimmered under the crystal glow, shifting between deep ocean green and midnight blue. Onyx eyes fixed on me without blinking—no visible eyelids, no expression, and no emotion whatsoever.

Only observation.

The creature raised her palms and began signaling.

Precise.

Deliberate.

Ancient.

“Do you have a message?”

I nodded and removed the protected parchment from my pouch. After checking the seal one final time, I raised my own hands and replied.

“Find them and tell them to come back.” The signs flowed between us. “The future of this world depends on them.”

The creature’s eyes narrowed slightly. One clawed finger touched her chest before moving through another sequence of signs.

“Bargain first.” She eased closer to the glass. Sharp teeth appeared behind a slow smile. “Freedom or no deal.”

My gaze flicked to the parchment in my grip, then back to her face.

“Deal.”

The word left my throat rougher than intended as my chin dipped once.

For several moments, neither of us moved. Then the water behind her broadened as two larger, even more unsettling silhouettes emerged from the depths. Their eyes never left me as they swam forward and began tracing circular motions through the water.

All three pointed toward a small feeding port and the release lever beneath it.

Understanding clicked into place.

I knelt and pulled it down.

A surge of water burst from the opening and splashed across my forearm before I could react. It soaked through the sleeve of my cloak and spread over my skin like liquid ice.

Then, a burning heat snapped my focus downward as dark teal markings extended along my arm like living ink, forcing a grunt of pain.

The tattoos continued to spread until they settled into place, as the female creature watched silently.

Waiting.

Retrieving a compact weapon from a hidden pocket, I placed it beside the parchment inside the feeding port and sealed the hatch.

The creature reached forward. The instant her claws touched them, both vanished from sight.

I leaned closer, watching as matching markings stretched from her wrist to her elbow, mirroring my own.

All three creatures revealed rows of sharp teeth as they signed in unison.

“Bargain completed.”

The female narrowed her unblinking eyes and lifted a clawed finger at my chest. “Your fate—”

“There he is!” The shout echoed across the bay as footsteps thundered closer.

She stopped mid-motion.

I didn’t wait for the rest. Pivoting toward the nearest wall, I aimed my grav-gloves as energy surged through my arms, the frequency building to a painful whine.

Then I released it.

The wall exploded outward.

Metal screamed, and glass shattered as I launched myself through the breach.

Cold night air struck my face.

Behind me, guards shouted orders while alarms erupted throughout the hangar. The sound followed me into the streets as I landed in a roll and pushed back to my feet.

One glance over my shoulder revealed only swirling water.

Hopefully, they don’t know I spoke with them.

I sprinted through the city.

Boots pounded behind me as searchlights swept across narrow alleys and streets. Several energy bolts struck my cloak; the impacts burned through fabric and flesh alike.

Heat flared across my back.

Do not stop.

Everything blurred around me as I vaulted walls, crossed rooftops, and disappeared into the maze of stone and steel. Gradually, the shouts faded behind me until only my own breathing remained.

By then, the hangar was nothing more than a distant glow against the horizon.

I finally stopped beside a stack of weathered cargo crates and braced a hand against a brick wall while my lungs fought for air.

Then a distant roar rolled across the sky.

Above me, two shuttles rose from the distant launch site. Their engines burned like twin stars as they pierced the atmosphere and disappeared toward the distant moons.

“The stars will guide us,” I murmured, releasing a slow breath.

Relief settled over me—only then did the pain return, biting and blinding.

My vision blurred. Reaching behind me, fingers brushed the wound and came away covered in fresh blood.

Interesting.

The thought had barely formed before my knees gave out.

The rooftop rushed upward, and darkness swallowed everything.

Birdsong drifted through the distance as consciousness slowly returned. The smell of fresh bread and roasted meat lingered in the air, warm and inviting in a way that immediately felt wrong.

For several moments, I remained still, listening.

No alarms. No boots. No shouting.

Only the faint creak of old wood and the distant sounds of a city oblivious to my existence.

Slowly, I opened my eyes.

Wooden beams stretched along the ceiling above me, dust drifting through a shaft of sunlight. Memory returned in fragments.

The hangar.

The shuttles.

The blood.

“Where am I? What happened?”

My attention dropped to my chest.

Clean bandages wrapped my torso from shoulder to waist, covering injuries I distinctly remembered being far worse. Carefully pushing myself upright, I regretted the decision as a stabbing pain lanced through my back, forcing a hiss through clenched teeth.

Who did this?

I glanced down at my bare feet.

“Where’s my stuff?” A grunt escaped me.

The realization cleared the remaining fog from my thoughts almost instantly.

A hand found my spine, searching beneath the cloth. The skin felt tender, but healed.

Impossible.

A soft humming reached me from somewhere beyond the room. The melody grew louder until it blended with the soft groan of floorboards approaching the door.

Instinct took over.

Ignoring the protest from my muscles, I scanned the room for exits or weapons.

Nothing.

The handle turned, and my body tensed.

The room tilted slightly as weakness surged through my limbs, leaving an unpleasant metallic taste coating my tongue. Spots danced at the edges of my vision, but I forced myself upright anyway and raised both fists.

An elderly woman stepped inside, carrying a wooden tray.

Silver hair hung in a loose braid over one shoulder while steam curled upward from a bowl of soup balanced beside a thick slice of bread. Small jars, clean bandages, and medical supplies occupied the remaining space.

“Oh,” she breathed. “I’m glad you’re awake.”

She nudged the door closed with her foot and continued into the room.

“I brought you some soup and a piece of bread.” She approached without hesitation.

I arched a brow. Most people froze when they saw me or kept their distance.

This woman walked closer, her attention lingering somewhere around my chest rather than meeting my eyes.

“I could kill you in an instant, you know?” The words left my mouth flat and cold. “You shouldn’t get close to me.”

“Mm.” Her sound was barely an acknowledgment.

She placed the tray on a nearby table before gathering fresh bandages and a small bottle of antiseptic.

“Let’s change those first?” The woman stepped forward without hesitation. “I'd rather not have you getting an infection.”

Before I could decide whether to repeat the threat, she was already removing the old bandages with practiced hands.

I found myself staring in silence.

The scent of lavender and dried spices drifted from her clothing while she moved. Her fingers worked carefully across the injuries, checking the wounds and replacing the wrappings with calm efficiency. Her eyes never wavered.

Once she finished, she neatly sorted the medical supplies on the table before lifting the bowl of soup and bread.

“Eat.”

“I…” The word caught in my throat. “I need to leave.”

The moment I said it, my stomach growled loudly enough that I nearly winced.

The old woman paused. “Fine. After you eat.”

The bowl was already in my hands before I could argue.

She turned away and began putting the remaining supplies back into a wooden cabinet while I attacked the food with considerably less dignity than I preferred.

“How did you move me?” I asked between bites. “Don’t you know I’m dangerous?”

A quiet scoff escaped her as she lifted the tray and headed for the door.

“Your clothes are washed and folded. Your weapons are upstairs.” A faint smile tugged at her lips. “I don’t allow those inside.”

“Thank you.” That’s all I could manage.

The old woman merely sighed, then slipped through the doorway and pulled the door shut behind her.

Several hours later, the dizziness had mostly faded. Seated on the bed, I studied the markings stretching from wrist to elbow.

The agreement remained intact.

The message had been delivered.

Now we wait.

After changing, I examined the windows. The openings were far too narrow for someone my size, meaning the front door would have to do.

Just my luck.

Stepping into the main room, I found myself surrounded by warm wood and aged stone. Fire crackled in the hearth, filling the air with the scent of cedar, while old shelves sagged beneath books, tools, and decades of collected clutter.

The old woman sat beside the fire in a rocking chair.

Purple yarn flowed between her fingers as knitting needles clicked together with surprising speed. The chair creaked as it moved back and forth, its rhythm almost matching the crackle of the flames.

“Are you feeling better?” Her voice reached me before I had fully entered the room.

I cleared my throat. “Yes.” The answer felt inadequate. “Do you know how long I was unconscious?”

“A few days.” She delivered the information as casually as if discussing the weather.

My gaze swept across the room.

No signs of anyone else—only dust and spiderwebs tucked into forgotten corners.

“You cared for me the entire time?” I scratched my head.

“Someone had to.” The answer came with a small shrug.

I stepped closer and extended a hand. “Thank you. I won’t say anything if you won’t.”

She smiled while her attention remained fixed somewhere near the fireplace as the needles continued their steady movement.

She never reached for my hand.

“Be careful now.” The smile softened. “It will be night soon.”

My arm slowly lowered as realization settled. “Yes, ma’am.”

Cool evening air greeted me on the rooftop.

My weapons remained exactly where I had fallen. After securing them and pulling the cloak around my shoulders, I stepped to the edge of the building.

Another sunset painted the horizon, its colors bleeding beneath a sea of drifting clouds.

Then a distant hum rolled across the sky.

A vessel emerged through the clouds above the city.

Not local.

Silver hull plating reflected the fading sunlight as the ship descended toward the hangar beyond the walls.

My heart skipped once.

Perhaps darkness wasn’t arriving alone.

The silver vessel continued its descent while the last rays of sunlight painted the sky in fire.

And for the first time in years, hope felt louder than fear.