the cost

in one time, one galaxy and in one solar system, there was a star. a bright one, beautiful and adored by all life on those planets that spun around it. how could they not love it? it made them who they were, after all, was the only the reason every living creature and plant could exist. it was worshipped for this great gift and, whether in hushed stories told to the next generation or in large celebrations spanning to each end of the planet, the star was said to be a living god. one who cared deeply for its subjects.

this wasn’t yet true, but it soon would be— at the price of those precious lives the star was meant to love so.

when this star went supernova, it couldn’t be said to be unexpected. those on some planets warned for years that it was coming, but not much was done about it— could be done about it. what was there to do? every single planet within the solar system orbited so close to their star that it was hopeless trying to find another planet to live on. other solar systems were too far away to reach in time. they tried their best, though, studied technology that could get them all out in time, ways that they could stop or pause the death of their god.

it was a good effort, but by the time there was less than a year left, any solutions weren’t near close enough to completion. the people held their loved ones close as the star grew brighter than it ever had before, praying for it to be quick if nothing else. when the star collapsed in on itself, it at least promised exactly that— a swift death, and a beautiful one at that, with the colors of the explosion painting the skies for the moment left before everything ended.

though the explosion was quite large, what was left in its wake seemed the complete opposite. to the small luminite who was just made, however, the sudden experience of existing was very big indeed.

the small creature’s eyelids fluttered open for the first time, and the moment xe sprang to consciousness xe was embraced in the dissipating lights of the supernova around xem. the stardust curled around xem, blanketing the being in light, flowing in and out of xyr ears and fur. it was almost nice. xe uncurled from the ball xe had been born into, paws batting at xyr tail. the stardust only wavered slightly as xe slapped a paw down through it.

xe stopped as a large amount of information appeared in xyr brain at once. right before xe gained consciousness, there was a supernova, one that affected every planet near it. killed every planet near it. xyr name was shani, though this was debated for years between planets before they decided on it. some still called them by plenty of other names. xe was a luminite, now, but those people who named xem considered xem god up until this moment.

this moment…. what was going on?

a ringing hung in xyr ears, and even without truly learning it, xe knew it was left over from the noise of the supernova. a strange feeling pulled at shani from behind xem, and xe glanced backwards.

there was a ring of incredible light that might’ve blinded shani if xyr eyes weren’t made to see it. in its center was a dark void, and the whole thing xe could liken to an eye, a bit. it was unsettling at the very least. xe watched as objects nearby were dragged closer- stars, comets and asteroids, planets. xe could feel its pull, but it’s gravity did not truly affect xem- that made sense, though xe didn’t exactly know why. perhaps it was the nature of xyr creation that caused this? they were both born of the same supernova, so maybe…

…wait, those planets were getting horribly close to the black hole, weren’t they? shani knew that xyr supernova had already destroyed so much on those planets [and as xe thought about this, xe was filled with overwhelming emotions not xyr own, fear and resignation and grief spilling into xem. it was enough to make xem choke back a sob]. but the things themselves, they… they were still fine! they could be fixed, somehow, xe knew it!

paddling xyr paws a bit to drift closer, shani’s eyes— with blurried vision as xe kept having to brush tears from xyr eyes— xe focused on one planet in particular as it was dragged towards the spiral of light and void.

a soft, “oh, no,” escaped their mouth without xyr permission as xe watched. as xe came closer, xe reached a paw out as if xe could do anything to stop the planet’s destruction. it was far, though, and the little luminite could only move so fast. xyr ears pinned back as it came so close to entering the black hole’s orbit, and—

xe tore xyr eyes away with a violent jerk of xyr head before anything could really occur, but xe was painfully aware of just what happened. it was sucked in, surely ripped apart. not like it really had a chance to be saved in the first place, though, did it? shani had hoped, but there’s not really any way that people could come to live on those planets again. not at all, and especially not in the same way they had before.

all this was xyr fault, wasn’t it? such a large cost for such a small thing like xem. 

“ar sivaré tarín kir,” shani murmured to the empty space in front of them. the words came naturally even if the people who used to speak them were long gone by now. xe finally found it in xemself to drift away, unable to glance over xyr shoulder a final time despite the gentle pull of gravity from the black hole. xe know what xe would see there— or rather, what xe wouldn’t see. some horrible feeling, nameless to xem at the moment, burned in xyr chest and xyr throat.

a sudden pull tugged at shani’s fur, at the stardust in xyr throat. blinking back into attention, xe found a small void floating just over xyr chest. it looked just the same as the one left by xyr birth, xe thought, bringing one paw up to brush over the thing. xe sighed, shaking xyr head to ground xemself and continuing on. xe was going to leave here and try to forget all about what xe accidentally caused. 

it was only fair that xe brought with xem a reminder of xyr creation, though. a reminder of all the things xyr existence destroyed.