Rebirth

See appendix for unfamiliar words.

A short, humanoid creature crouched down on the grass below him. His eyes scanned the unfamiliar terrain anxiously. He had just been with his loving community, dancing with his mother at a yearly party. A thing came walking out of the forest, and he scrambled back to hide behind a Mo. The glaring light from above no longer assaulted him as he peered around the Mo to see what that thing had been. A figure that looked vaguely similar to its people, staring blankly as it turned its head idly. He cocked his head at it and was about to leave his hiding spot when its eyes landed on him. The creature stared with wide, white eyes, still and observant. It had thin, long arms with even longer legs. Their entire body was white with shadows surrounding the glowing holes that it assumed were its eyes. The head was stretched and the skin hung in flaps. It had no hair, no teeth, no nose. The hands on the ends of its arms elongated as it reached for him. He panicked and scrambled away, before pausing when it gently patted his hair with its arms longer than the Grand Moi. Its lips curled up into a mockery of a smile. Celeste felt it meant no harm.

He smiled in return and was surprised to hear it speak the tongue he knew so well. The creature’s mouth did not move, yet he heard everything clear as day inside his mind. He couldn’t help but relax at the familiarity. “Little Prince, how did you come to get here?”

He answered quickly, standing and hurrying forwards, staring at the giant that now stood in front of him. It lowered itself to the ground to make it easier for him to see it. “I’m not sure, I was at the Meku–ku dance. Have you come to take me home again?”

“I am afraid not, Prince Celeste. I was born here in this world, I know of this tongue and who you are from my mother and father, who left just after you were born, young one. They taught me of the royal family and who you were. They traveled between realms but never taught me how to do it myself.”

“And there is no way home? Are your mother and father not here to take me home? Take me to them, I ask.” His soul twisted as he stared in the eyes of his strange friend. His head throbbed and his hands shook. Fear permeated his mind and his mind alone. With no one else there that he was properly linked to, his emotions were only his to deal with.

He heard a cracking noise behind him and turned his head. He expected another one of the strange creatures, but was met with an entirely different life-form. The larger one of the two raised a crescent shaped object, pulling on something before letting it go. His friend screeched and pushed him to the side. He fell, and the back of his head collided against something solid. It turned to him. It was silent. There was something in its chest. Cel felt queasy. “Friend?” He whispered nervously.

It stumbled and tripped over the foot of a Mo, toppling over and lying face up on the ground. Blue liquid bubbled from around the stick in its chest before it began to decompose and dissolve until only its soul was left: a blue sphere, floating just above the ground. It looked confused. “Is that a kid?” He began to grow lightheaded and his vision grew blurry as the bigger figure approached. “That’s no kid, it’s a new type of Sleek. Grab the ingredient, I’ll…” The noise faded out slowly until his eyes fluttered closed and his limbs went slack as his body tipped forward and he fell into the strange, soft fuzzy ground.

***

The next time he woke, it was in a tiny dark room. His back ached from being in such an uncomfortable position. The walls were smooth and strong. They were silent too, he could tell. They didn’t have a mind. He was alone like never before. The young prince shakily pulled himself up to sit back on his knees and noticed his cloak was missing. He still had his necklace with its maku–ku, but when he squinted, he could tell it was cracked and foggy–a maku. He frowned and his long, thin tail swished along the floor behind him. His shoes were gone, stolen most likely. They were covered in a thin sheet of that reo dust that covered the rabvdolso at home.

He stood carefully and slowly turned around, trying to find a way of escape. He froze when his eyes spotted a slat in the wall he could use to look through. He crouched down and snuck forward, tail slithering along the ground. He found something protruding from the ground near the slat in the wall and quickly wrapped his tail around it. He pressed himself against the wall next to the opening and tentatively reached a small hand through it, his spindly fingers searching for anything he could use to escape. His long nails clicked rapidly–faster than his soul was pulsing. Soon, he had his arm up to his elbow out and searching, yet he found nothing. Dejectedly, he pulled his arm back and put his cheek against the wall, peering into the unknown with his left eye. There was another empty room like his outside. The new room looked thinner and longer. He could see more light filtering in and knew somewhere out there was his way out.

He heard a creak far off to the left and pulled himself back, unwrapping his tail and scrambling to the other side of the room to sink into the corner, hidden and small. His chest rose and fell in rapid succession. He just wanted to go home and be with his mother. He listened as light, quick-paced footsteps grew louder and louder, until they stopped right in front of the small opening in the wall to block the little bit of light he had. He waited with bated breath, praying that someone would come help, that he was dreaming this whole thing up because a world like this couldn’t exist! The thing in front of the opening moved and a dim light leaked back into his cage. He exhaled shakily.

“Are you awake?”

He froze. What was it doing? Why did it make those weird noises? “What? I do not understand.” He searched for a mind to connect to, a soul to tap, or even just a stray thought somewhere. He couldn’t reach anything; there was a wall between his mind and that thing. He tried to wiggle through it, searching for any cracks. The wall began sliding away, making a horrible scraping noise as it did so. Celeste hurried to stand. He curled his hands into fists. If necessary, he would claw, bite, punch, and kick his way out of his cage.

When the walls finally stopped moving, the smaller one from earlier stood in full view. The first two things he noticed was it didn’t have a tail, and he couldn’t see a weapon. He was considering an escape when the thing pressed something and the wall fell back into place. It manipulated the wall, something he couldn’t do on his own. He was smart enough to realize that. He crept back step by step, until his back hit the wall. The thing frowned and walked forward. Cel hissed. His soul was spinning and thrashing, desperate and terrified. His ears flicked and his tail curled. He lowered his chin and flexed his hands.

The thing stopped moving. It just looked at him. What was it planning? He had no escape, how had it moved the wall? How could he move it? Where could he go?

Is this where he died?

That thought terrified him the most, he was still very young, he was to rule, he was the eldest of his siblings! Years of his life spent creating bonds stronger than the pillars of the palace, and he would die alone in a dead room. He would never gain his mother’s strength. He would never get to pass the role of a guardian down to another child.

Then the thing sat down on the ground…and just stared. It made the noises again. “Hey, I won’t hurt you. My father said you were dangerous, but I don’t think so. I think you’re a new type of Inactive Sleek, harmless, until provoked.” Cel frowned and tilted his head. Was it trying to communicate with him? Was this thing intelligent? What was it doing? He’d never heard of communicating with sounds, that was only done by the walls and Moi when they whispered their secrets to each other. Sounds made by a soul were scary, and always happened when the soul’s owner was afraid or in pain. “You probably don’t understand me, you’re not human.”

He watched the thing stand. His defenses rose again and he bared his teeth. It shook its head. “I’m not going to hurt you, I’m going to get something for you to eat. You must be hungry.” As it walked to the wall, Celeste carefully took a few steps forwards. Maybe he could wait for it to move the wall, then attack and escape. It turned back around and he froze. It shook its head again and flicked its wrist up and down. Celeste tried to connect with it again, to tell him that he didn’t understand the gesture. “I need you to move back more. I’m not sure about letting you out yet. I will soon, just not now.” It frowned. It shuffled around and scratched its head. It kept staring at him. He remembered going hunting with his father when they ran low on mamuvu, and the way he used to stare at the prey, calculating and thinking, before striking it down. The memory prompted him to slink back against the opposite wall, any curiosity vanishing and being replaced by fear so strong it made it hard to breathe. Had his initial judgment about it been wrong? It was staring so similarly at him, so calculating and piercing and silent. He sat down and pulled his knees to his chest as he watched the wall move away, then watched it screech back into place after the creature was out.

He was so scared. He was always safe and protected. The royal family always had guards with them for insurance, but for the most part, his people were peaceful. Fights rarely broke out, and the last cataloged attack happened many lifetimes ago. In less than the time it took for their Mother to blink, he witnessed a living being taking another life by force. His tall friend had not been given the chance at a full life. It risked itself to save him, and for what? He was immediately captured. These monsters wouldn’t hesitate to kill him and steal his soul as they did with his friend.

He dug his nails into his knees and curled his tail around his body tightly, as he realized there was no way any of this was a dream. He couldn’t have dreamt of something so vicious. He would not wake up in bed in the castle. He would not be able to run from his room to his mother and father’s for comfort. They would not hold him or make him his favorite meal to calm him in the middle of the night. His little sisters wouldn’t wake up to join them at the smell of food, and his cousin wouldn’t be trailing right behind him once he woke, holding onto his hand as if he would disappear. He would never be able to comfort and reassure his cousin, or his sisters after any of their nightmares, because he would never see them again.

He was sure of it.