Coverance 23

Molehill Arrival

The highest peak of the planet Bäs-Tera bared its house of government. The tallest height would pierce the planet's atmosphere. A staircase was all that separated Bäs-Tera's entire political system and figures of importance from the society below. An amber aura would fluctuate slowly around the massive staircase, extending the breathable atmosphere to this outer reach.

One of the many hulking yet seemingly wooden bastions for air and space travel would arrive delicately on the rocky platforms comprising a landing hub. Its dark coloured wood contrasted warmly with the murky-red sandstone that now housed it.

The ship appeared like a naval vessel, the many glowing runes alighting the hull, keeping it afloat until the deep whirring tone stopped. The bright magenta light of the runes being snuffed out left only charcoal coloured indentations of the symbols behind. This ship aligned itself beside fourteen others. Each ship was more distinct and gaudy than the last, this one being the most reserved in design, a simple fish within a pond of profound and eccentric lobsters.

Each vessel faced the monstrously large megastructure their passengers of interest would be convening in. The weathered sandstone that formed the entrance to the building was slowly obscured into well-kept sturdier minerals as it continued outwards. The environment below was a brightly tinctured wasteland of vibrant red sand. Far below where the ships and visitors waited were the voracious winds of this arid landscape. Hundreds and hundreds of tightly packed homes of a brutalist architecture methodically intertwined together- protecting the society's ninety-nine percent from the winds that would grate their hide. 

The cities below appeared like a vast unsolvable geometric puzzle, made all the more difficult by the plumes of swirling sand obfuscating them.

Two smooth fingers gently slid across the taffrail of the simple albeit sleek ship.

A calm, curious voice queried as it gazed upon the monstrous mansion.

"This... is the Terakin embassy?"

The voice's owner would look over to their companion. The companion was met with the inviting visage of the ambassador he was tasked with educating and advising.

Their skin was smooth and without natural blemishes, it was as white and fragile as porcelain, it twinkled with a vaguely pearlescent shine. Their hair was no longer than their cheekbones, a faint curling of their locks would effect the windswept assortment of thin silk-like strands. Their body was thin and lithe with a seafoam robe covering them. The robe was fitted to their size and stitched with immaculate patterns of ferns. The care presented in the creation of their clothes was innately sedulous.

"It's the founding government house... and embassy. It also houses the top one percent of the civilisation. It started as a significant political hub in an obnoxious spot. Now the discordant collision of high figure positions has grown to be as obnoxious as the staircase it sits upon."

The hopeful ambassador's lips would curl unpleasantly in response to their companion's response. The companion responded with a single raise of his eyebrow, a challenge to attempt proving his jaded assessment as inaccurate.

His skin was akin to the Ambassador's, his hair was similar also in texture and colour, but far more longer, reaching his upper ribcage. It flowed about without conviction. His dark jade robe was not as fancy as the ambassadors, but the brief views of thick black padding confirmed such attire wasn't for show. 

His shortly cut sleeves would reveal a past atrophy. Everything below the elbow on his right arm was missing, leaving a visible wound coated shut with melted down gold.

"I see... a conglomeration like such surely is... innovative?" The ambassador uttered with a shaky disposition. Their hopeful tone was generally ravaged by the response of their adviser who had been here far too often.

"When everyone is cramming their hand in each others pockets what point is there in separating them? The upper-class Terakin all subsist off the sediment and lint of one pocket-bottom whilst everything below their staircase is naked. Every local that sits atop this mountain thrives by collectively indulging hateful passion in the one pair of pants."

The pearlescent face that owned the gentle voice furrowed in confusion and a hopeful disgust. A pained disgust broke out across their mouth.

"I don't know if that's figurative or litera-"

"Both."

"Either way, that really isn't any of our business."

The jaded adviser had a plethora of responses ready, instead he decided upon a tactical silence.

After allowing the non-partisan and gentle ambassador to stew in the foul mental imagery, he spoke in a tone just vaguely more enthused than prior.

"Tiav, Do you remember everything you need to know? Or do you require a refresher?"

Tiav hummed inquisitively with a growing uncertainty.

Tiav would slowly look over to the inconceivable shape not normal to their quadrant.

Not the mansion, but something else, something larger.

They'd gaze at something larger than the visiting vessels combined, larger than said vessels combined with the absurdly gigantic staircase and glorified sandcastle that housed this society's upper echelon. Said shape was only nearby the gathering ground where the many ships conglomerated 

Rooted within the sand was the unfathomable.

A preposterously sized finger.

A monolithic, obsidian-coloured, index finger with the texture of porous stone. With this sight came the knowledge that a thumb held the bottom side of this planet. As one would hold a marble between their finger and thumb, the cosmic entity responsible for keeping fifteen planets and one third of a planet in orbit held Bäs-Tera much the same. As it did the other 'fourteenish' planets.

The indescribably monolithic body whose fingers clenched this planet could be seen above the atmosphere. A myriad of gangly yet solid arms 'politely' clutching fifteen planets and one third of a planet.

The head of the figure bared two celestial bodies, a sun and moon slowly turning as all of the planets were held in place by the sixteen arms.

Tiav grew wary just looking at it.

"I think a refresher is necessary, Adahn."