Astray Among The Stars

Chapter 47: Astramos

Roger opened his eyes, his pupils reflecting a forest, the smooth alabaster trunks surrounding him covered in scarlet foliage. He turned, the alien trees endless, stretching to the horizon. Below him, a sea of fallen leaves covered the ground, the five-pointed scarlet shapes overlapping, similar in appearance to sycamore leaves. Intermittent were crushed fruits, small in size, the jam thick and a deep staining ruby color. A few islands of crimson plants were scattered about the forest floor, some decorated with lapis flowers. He had been here before, once while melding with Tevra. The garnet forests of Valmir V were indeed familiar, but this time, it felt as if he was truly there.

The boy rested his hand against a pale trunk, feeling the smooth wood. Roger paused, noticing a carved arrow, his hand covered in crimson fluid. He retracted his hand instantly, glancing himself over. He lacked any injuries. He was healed, completely. The fluid was sap, not blood.

Roger sighed with relief, wiping the fluid on the smooth bark, as his eyes returned to the arrow. As he examined the marking, a soft breeze rustled the canopy above him. With it, came a whispering and ominous voice.

"Come hither, boy."

The teen took a step foward, ambling around the uneven terrain, guided by the unearthly yet gentle voice. Roger knew he heard it before, but how or when eluded him, yet the mysterious spirit seemed familiar. He pondered for a moment, his mind racing as his legs took another hesitant step, forming a rhythmic pattern of leaves crunching beneath him as he walked from tree to tree, carved with bloody ancient symbols.

As he continued his journey in the shaded forest, he eventually found himself facing a small creek. Kneeling down, he cupped his hands, taking a sip of the clear water. The boy shivered, the frigid water absorbing the heat from his body. Roger stood up, drying his hands on his sleeves. His eyes scanned the surrounding trees, yet there were no markings anywhere. It seemed he strayed off the path in search of water.

The fallen stizza leaves rustled in a gentle breeze. Once more, a whisper came with it.

"Follow the creek."

Roger obeyed, travelling down the gradual slopes. His path mimicked the stream, the waterway widening the further he went, coalescing with other streams, morphing into a roaring river.

The rapids eventually calmed, bringing him to a vast lake. The boy scanned the beautiful reflective waters, the rippling mirror painted with the surrounding mountain ridges of the valley, dominated by the vermilion forest. In the center stood a small island wooded like the surrounding shores of the enormous lake. The small land mass featured steep and jagged rocks at one side, the other a smooth and gradual slope to the water, with the island's highest elevation at a hill towards the small cliffs. At the flat end of the tiny land spec stood an ancient structure, the gray stone cracked and decayed, its silver hue contrasting against the colorful wilderness, yet matching with the exposed rock. Roger stood for a moment, absorbing the beauty of the scenery. The gentle breeze strengthened, grabbing his attention.

"Get to the island."

Roger scanned the body ahead, the landscape far too vast to swim across. Instead, he gathered some sticks and branches, crafting a makeshift raft. Upon finishing the vessel, the two suns started to set over the mountainous horizon, the ridge's shadows casting the lake in darkness, the cardinal forest blending with the coquelicot skies.

He briefly looked down at his stomach. He did not feel anything, despite the lack of food throughout the day. The only urge he felt was to follow the whispering voice, the hunger for knowledge and nothing else.

"Hurry. Predators will awaken soon. The waters will be safe, as will the island, but you cannot stay on the shores forever."

"Who are you?"