Close Nemesis

Chapter Twenty-Five: Returning Home

XALIR:

Following a well-rested sleep in my quarters on Teglyo, I returned to Occos II, removed my superhero disguise in an alley, and made my way back to the motel I had checked into yesterday.

Once I collected my bag and checked out, I bought tickets for a shuttle trip to Plassilmavern. After my most recent shift at the hair salon, my boss had given me a leave of absence so that I could mourn Laiva and prepare for her funeral. Her body was presumably turned to ash by the fire, so all that reminds me of my lover is the ring made from my silver tears that I gave Laiva.

Once I had bought bus tickets, it set off away from Occos II. Then, it telethrusted to Plassilmavern, a planet with a shiny surface decorated in various metals and ores, such as silver, diamond, copper, etcetera.

By the time the bus landed at Plassilmavern's capital of Letam, it was night. The ghostly white reached up until the top of the sky, which was blanketed in a black painting of distant galaxies and stars.

My father was there to greet me, his silver eyes reflecting the light from the nearby moons. I had informed him earlier that I would be coming, and he was elated to hear that I was visiting.

"Xalir!" he chimed. "It is good to see you! I am sorry to hear about Laiva, though."

He flew me to his house in his cotton seated Treadertreasure XI, the latest in a brand of shiny platinum space cars. He lives not too far from the bus station, which is really convenient for me. If there's anything good came out of my mum's murder, it's that my father moved to a more accessible city.

As my father flies us over the triangular shaped metal buildings that sit within the city, I stare out into the distant metal plains that reflect the glow of the moons. As my father lowers the hover car towards a street on the far side of the city, I examine the blue light of the dashboard console that shows an image of Plassilmavern's current orbit position. The darker side of Plassilmavern is where we are currently, but in many hours, it will soon be light once more. Of course, there isn't much difference between day and night on Plassilmavern. In the daytime, the ghostly aurora that lines the horizon at night fully covers the starry roof of Plassilmavern.

The planet has an ethereal appearance to it. Rumours have it that we once lost our true sky millennia ago, and the semi-transparent white sky we see now is just its ghost. Part of me believes that this is true, but another part of me thinks otherwise. I'm really torn about what I think about the ghostly sky's origin. In fact, I'm really torn about all of the myths and folklore on Plassilmavern.

Anyway, by now, my father has parked my car on a slightly raised brick driveway that sits to the left of his pale green walled house. I open the door to my left, before grabbing the straps of my grey bag and draping them around my shoulder as I slide out of my seat and onto the driveway.

I follow my father into the narrow, triangular building until he stops and turns to face me. He sticks a silver sticker on my arm, and then steps through the bricks of the house, which ripple like water. I follow him inside, and once I've done so; the blue overhead plasma light shines brightly like a star under the black ceiling.

A wall with a single metal door in it blocks off the glossy carpeted hallway. My father pulls the doorknob upwards, and the door opens vertically. I follow him through the doorframe into the dining room, which is lit in a similar plasma light. This time, the plasma light is the colour of golden sunlight.

My father continues forwards, past a small two-seater table made from glasswood, and enters the open floored kitchen. The floor in the kitchen and the dining room are made of the same green coloured metal: emeralver, to be exact. The stoves, tempobox and counters are made of stainless brass, and there are silver kitchen utensils scattered messily within the sink.