Aynsefian

Salvation’s Creek goes straight over the top of the chasm, flowing through a channel that has clearly been constructed especially for it. Next to the channel is a stone bridge. By pure luck, the bridge is on the left of the watercourse, so we don’t have to cross the creek to get to the bridge.

The bridge is made from a deep bluestone, with waist-high walls on either side. It is covered in a fine mist of sand and looks like it hasn’t been used in thousands of years. Maybe more than that. I feel self-conscious in just considering crossing it, let along making footsteps in the sand and disturbing the pristine nature of it. I stop and glance at the Purlinians. By their body language, they seem to be of the same mind. However, we must push on if we are to find Aynsefian. It truly represents our best hope of returning home, I feel.

We step out together and make those footprints in the sand on the bridge surface. As we cross the bridge I lean over carefully and look over the edge.

The chasm has no bottom that I can see.

It looks like it goes on forever and I can feel the instant butterflies in my stomach at the thought of maybe leaning over too far while looking into it. A fall down there would probably have me reach terminal velocity before my death on wherever the bottom is. I wonder why I have that image in my mind. It’s completely unnecessary. The bridge appears to be solidly constructed and feels very safe. Nonetheless, I feel better once I step back from the edge and cross to the other side of the bridge.

Once on the other side, I glance at the Purlinians. I am taking their lead from here. This is their mission now. I’m still exhausted and longing for home, but I can cope with a little exploring in the meantime. It could be many days or even months, or longer, before anyone comes for us.

If they ever do.

Finding one of the Aynsefian cities may be our only hope.

As I walk, I’m trying not to worry too much. I’ve survived for now. I’ve found water and a type of food that will sustain me in the short term. The pain from my fall is over. I’ve made some vows about my future. I will try to be as positive as I can.

I acknowledge that I’ve been through a lot, though. This role that I have taken on for my people, that of a galactic explorer, was harder than I anticipated. It almost cost me my life. I will acknowledge that. However, I must not dwell on it. I will move forward with my thoughts and try to envisage a happy future.

I will get back home somehow and get therapy to find out if I’m really asexual. Then I will look for a life partner, regardless, even if it’s a celibate relationship. I don’t see it as a problem if I am asexual, but I think I’d like a real human that I can have a relationship with and maybe she’d be asexual too. Maybe she won’t be as ‘perfect’ as Nikse. Maybe she’ll surprise me from time to time. Maybe she’ll be someone I can learn from and grow with. I’m beginning to like those thoughts. I smile to myself. I will believe in that future and try my best to make it happen.

Cindlyss and Arlyss have stopped walking. I almost run into them.

Distracted by my thoughts, I have been looking down at the cave floor and only peripherally at my companions. I haven’t been looking ahead much.

In front of us is a lake. A big lake.

The cave has widened even further in this area and Salvation’s Creek has ended in a rather large body of water, several hundred metres across. It’s quite beautiful. A few more crystals are conveniently placed around the shore line, on the right hand side. They light up the lake, which sparkles from several directions at once. It’s mesmerising.

Then I see something, just past a small bridge that crosses over the creek. On the far shore, lit by the crystals is a structure. It looks like a small cabin.

It’s our first sign of Aynsefian, the civilisation.

My heart soars at the sight. A cabin of sorts. It’s too hard to tell from here what it’s really like, but it gives off the appearance of being fully intact. If there was a cataclysm to end Aynsefian, it didn’t destroy this building. I’m keen to see it.

So are the Purlinians. They are already heading off to cross the small bridge over the creek, and thence around the shoreline. They are looking back at me with eager glances, indicating that I should follow, post-haste. I do.

They are still wearing the thermal suits, without the masks. Those are in my backpack with the vials and the sweater I took off earlier. It strikes me that we don’t have changes of clothes with us. When we left on our journey I was only thinking about finding water. I curse myself for not bring more clothes with me. We will have to regularly wash what we’re wearing. It’s slightly annoying. Then again, I’m glad we’re alive. A lack of clothing is really a minor inconvenience, relatively speaking.

We cross the bridge, and then start moving around the lake shore. I can’t take my eyes off the cabin. I want to see the inside of it so badly. Is it habitable? Is there any technology we can use? I think not, if it’s been thousands of years since people lived there. I can hope, though.

As we get closer the cabin looks better and better. I can detect the anticipation in the gait of my companions ahead of me. The structure of it looks surprisingly primitive, compared with my expectations and my memories of the vision I saw yesterday. It’s simply made of bluestone, which contrasts starkly with the surrounding greyish-brown soil. The roof is made of some sort of moulded grey material that looks unfamiliar to me. Nonetheless, it looks surprisingly fresh and clean, and I begin to wonder if it’s really been many thousands of years since it was built. There are crystals on the outside of the cabin, lending extra light to the area and illuminating the bluestones, adding to the cabin’s appealing look.

Surrounding the cabin is the first sign of really big trees in the cave. They also catch my attention. They are unfamiliar to me, but they are not vastly different from those on my home planet. If I’d travelled to a new region back home and saw trees like this, I wouldn’t be surprised. They’re quite tall, with branches in the places I would normally expect them, and dark green leaves. These trees appear to be an oversized type of fern, which is what I’d expect in a cave. There’s ground cover too: multiple varieties of shrubs that are also unrecognisable but vaguely familiar. There’s also still plenty of moss around, which is encouraging.

Although the cave interior has been brightening as we’ve been walking farther into it, I’m still yet to see this amazing mini-sun from the visions that the Purlinians sent me. Thus, the photosynthesis in this area for the trees and plants around this cabin must be minimal, or the crystals are helping in some way. I’m not sure.

I don’t know what these crystals are capable of. When I looked at them back at the bridge over the chasm, they didn’t seem particularly special. However I vaguely remember my mother telling me when I was much younger about crystals than can light up when exposed to heat. Is there thermal heat in the ground, from the planet’s interior? I’m wondering if that is how they are lighting up. I really don’t know for sure and there was no way I was going to dig up those crystals and look for some sort of heat source. I shelve the thought for now.

We’ve reached the cabin. The soil is exceedingly sandy all around it, more so than I’ve seen so far. The cabin is right on the lake shore, so much so that one of its sides is gently lapped by the water. Clearly the water it is still flowing past, from up at the entrance of Salvation’s Creek into the cave and then down to this lake. It must continue to go downhill to some final destination that we’re yet to see. I wonder how much more this cave will drop in altitude as we explore it.

The cabin has no door. It looks like it used to have one at some point. It’s hard to say what happened to it. The windows are made of a crystal material similar to the light crystals we’ve been seeing, but far more transparent. Already I can tell, looking through the windows and the doors that there is nothing inside this cabin.

Nothing obvious anyway.

I still desperately want to see inside of it. We step cautiously in through the door. We don’t know what we’re going to find. I’m already placing full trust in Arlyss and Cindlyss. I am completely certain that they would be able to sense any harm or danger before we see it. Maybe I’m a fool for believing this, but I’m going with it.

I didn’t expect to live a week ago, so what have I got to lose?