Entombed future

Before them stood the second gate; this one led directly inside the grave hall and was richly engraved, colors ranging from hue to golden and white were still pristine. 

It was a masterpiece!

Its surface looked like it had indeed sustained some damage, yet resisted the intrusion. Beautiful to behold, the gate had an oval top and two sides, which looked like they slid inside the walls when it was opened. On the left it was engraved with a giant, needle-like spire, which she immediately recognized from the legends her mother retold, its top surrounded by a giant, blueish star. 

At the spire’s base and all around it, one could marvel at Tron city in all of its ancient glory. Glistening with metal and polyglass skyscrapers; giant Arcologies spanning entire city blocks, one connected to another, their waterways creating uninterrupted tunnels of ever moving, crystal clean water. What was fashioned on the right side of this gate, however, made Kera gasp and her eyes watered. 

The Battlestars; these ancient vessels which in ages past, had successfully defended Avern’a from those who wished its people harm, floated in orbit of her homeworld. Their center hull was shaped like a sphere, with four spike-like battlements extending from it; sharp edged, the star arms gently sparkled, whitish light emanating from their beam emplacements. 

Avern’a prime was depicted in the center of their formation, her crystal blue oceans, rivers and lakes moving. The green of forests slowly changed into yellow, then brown and white, before slowly returning back to its original, dark green color. Looking at this magnificent creation, remembering all the stories she was told as a child, Kera wept. 

What was depicted before her existed no longer, for it was taken from the Avern’a people. Just like their lives were harvested for countless generations, everything else that her kin spent so many years, shed blood and wept blue tears to defend, it was all gone. Their cities were gutted ruins, no longer did the tall skyscrapers reach for the stars. 

The forests, they were mostly gone, harvested by the Jaern and probably sold for profit or burned in their vile ceremonies. Her homeworld’s oceans, rivers and lakes were no longer, in their place there was a barren wasteland. The Battlestars had been either destroyed or vanished; the last one she’d seen sparkle into the night sky was when she was but a small girl. 

Before they descended down through the atmo, her crewmates ran several scans looking for these fabled starships, to no avail. She reached and gently touched the still pristine shapes with her gloved hand; followed the metallic engravings, caressed the crystal. 

More of her tears fell on the floor, disturbing age long soot, dust and debris.

***

This is an excerpt from my sixth Starshatter book, Final Liberation.

You can find all of my published books from this series, here.

Art by Paul Chadeisson - this is his ArtStation page.