- Dimension of Abnormality, Part I: The Exile
By Rebecka Jones, Staff Writer
Five years ago today, she was supposed to die. One thousand eight hundred and twenty-five lines covered the walls, ceiling, and floor of the dark, haunting cave, making one seem as if they were staring at binary code rather than the number of days. The short, carved lines counted up to five years exact.
She should’ve given up marking the days after the first two months, but she could not. Would not.
She refused to forget where all the lines counted up from: the first day. Tribulation day. The day she was to die but did not. Instead, she had faced something worse than death.
Exile.
Nova scowled in the flickering light of the torch in her hand, recounting the day she was banished from her home. She remembered playing with her father in the night-blue fields of Caligo, the skirt of her yellow dress billowing as he twirled her around over the grass. She remembered his laughter when he picked her up and spun her around as she spread her arms out like she was flying. In that moment, she had felt free.
Until the horrible men stormed the field and took her away.
She remembered how her father’s ocean-blue eyes widened with horror as his daughter was ripped from his arms, as men in midnight-blue uniforms put their hands over her mouth so she couldn’t scream and threw her into a blinding room where she lost all ability to think, to see, to channel. She could’ve been in that room for days. Hours. Years. All spent awaiting her fate.
She didn’t even get to say goodbye to her father, to her friends and colleagues, or teachers, before the men came back and sedated her. She was awake to see the men pushing her on a transfer board, to feel the heavy chains binding her to the cart. She remembered seeing a tall woman as she arrived in the hangar, those horrifying dark eyes staring down at her, and that pale, sharp face capable of ending a population with a snap of her fingers.
In that moment, Nova had recognized her. She was the woman who appeared on holographs all around Caligo to declare terminations of towns, cities, and provinces, all in search of anomalies. The monsters. The outcasts. The exiles.
This woman was the director of it all—one of the main leaders of the United Nations of Caligo, representing the eastern provinces. Nova’s home.
Nova remembered the Director lowering her face towards hers, her ice-cold lips brushing her ear as she spoke. “If it were up to me, you would be dead for what you’ve done. What you are.” She paused for a long, agonizing moment before adding: “You’re lucky your father is a dear friend of the Council.”
Those were her last words before she sent Nova into a cryopod and into her exile. Into her eternity.
She was in cryosleep for weeks until she was transported through the wormhole of space and landed on a small, sun-kissed, yellow planet. She knew as she stepped foot on the planet that her father had chosen this place for her so she wouldn’t have to face death. Yellow was her father’s favorite color, and she saw it all around her in the golden waters and honey plains. Yellow had given him hope.
But it didn’t give her any. It choked her. Trapped her.
A single tear rolled down her cheek as she recalled those memories now, the thousands of carved white lines bearing down on her as she stood in the cave. They were a reminder of what she endured, though the numbers may not be entirely accurate since she couldn’t recall how many days she was in cryosleep or how long traveling in the wormhole took. But the day she was exiled and the day she arrived on Apricus—her exile planet’s name, which she discovered when she overheard the guards discussing the planet on her way to her cryopod—felt like one long, torturous day.
Although she had usually felt powerful in the darkness of the cave, she never felt so powerless as she did now. Lonely because she missed her father dearly and wondered if he was out there missing her too. Angry because humanity has discarded her for being abnormal. Hopeless because she had no way of escape. No way of channeling her power despite the energy of the dark cave filling her veins.
The only thing fueling her in this moment was her anger toward humanity. That is why she could never forget what these lines represent. The anger keeps her going. Keeps her from tipping over the edge. Gives her a purpose.
After taking one more look at the lines in the cave, including the new one she carved just a moment ago, Nova turned towards the cave’s opening and stepped out into the piercing light.
Nights on Apricus do not compare to nights on Caligo. While nights on Nova’s birth planet were pitch black with no stars or moons in the sky, Apricus was illuminated by the orange-gold lights of its three moons as well as countless twinkling stars. The honey-yellow fields of long plumes swayed with a lazy breeze, glowing like fireflies. Nova would prefer complete darkness so her power could be at its strongest, but this would work just fine. It was peaceful. Adequate for channeling.
She had her eyes closed as she breathed in deeply. Imagining a place to go. Finding her energy. Harnessing it. Just as she was taught.
When her mind locked in on a place and power rushed into her veins and made the tips of her fingers tingle, she reached her hand out into the yellow field. She opened her eyes, a purple glow painting her outstretched arm and the grass before her in amethyst light. She felt the energy burning in her blood, throbbing in her eyes and fingers. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, and she grit her teeth as her body shuddered in response to the power.
The space before her tore open into a tiny circle that began to spin rapidly, similar to a miniature black hole. It pulsated and grew in sync with Nova’s breaths. All she could make out inside the hole was darkness, so she dug deeper into the energy in her veins, picturing the place she wished to travel to in great detail. Blue grass. A yellow dress. Warm hands holding her up into the sky. Wind pressed against her face, filling her lungs with air. Deep laughter. Happiness.
The blackness faded into an admiral blue, the tear stretching over the swaying plumes. Nova’s heart pounded faster, and she squinted her eyes as the blue came into focus. She spotted a stone road below a blue sky, with dark grass all around. In the distance, she could almost make out a large peak rising out of the ground, pointing high towards the sky. Lights were speckled on the peak’s surface. Though it may have been hard to make out the natural structure many miles away, a warmth spread through Nova’s chest at the familiar sight.
Starlight Mountain. The highest mountain in all of Caligo, named after its luminescence. It was the only mountain that glowed at night. Even in the day, it glowed with lights coming from the homes built into the mountain. It must be day there, for Nova could see the home lights shining in the darkness of the daylight. Days were like nights there, though nights were completely black.
She had taken a step towards the opening without realizing. Home was right there in front of her. After years of training to harness her ability, she had finally opened a gateway to her birth planet. Excitement burst out of her as a laugh. Tears streamed down her face. She could already feel the comfort of her father’s long hugs and resonant laughter calling out to her through the portal. She had found peace at last.
“Careful,” a booming voice sounded behind her, speaking in the Aprican tongue. “Do not forget what they have done to you.”
Suddenly, that day came crashing down on her. Being ripped away from her father. Men bounding her to chains. That monster of a woman stuffing her into a cryopod and sending her away because her kind is unacceptable. Because she is also a monster. She has also caused harm.
Nova’s arm shook violently, her breath turning ragged. The power in her veins diminished along with her hope. The portal closed in on itself, cutting the only line she had back to her home. Back to her father.
But also back to that torture.
The purple glow of her eyes faded out, plunging her back into the firefly-lit darkness of the empty field. All at once, her body ached and she collapsed onto the grass. Tears poured out of her eyes like rivers, coating the yellow grass below her like rain as she shook and heaved, though nothing came up. Everything in her felt empty.
“Impressive,” that voice spoke again, in the native tongue. “This is the most progress you’ve made. Your power is growing.”
Nova slowly turned her face towards the voice, purple eyes connecting with the creature behind her. Black, beady eyes stared back. Pointy ears twitched curiously. Feathery wings rippled in the wind, strong and mighty. A small smile appeared under the fluff of the creature’s coat, showing sharp, white teeth. The sight might have been horrifying or astonishing to others, but this was a sight Nova saw every day.
Adira was her friend. And her berating trainer.
She was a magnificent creature. Nova had never seen anything quite like her kind on Caligo. Adira’s species is called Alaptera, named after their feather-winged arms and bat-like features. Alaptera were tall and slender, varying in color – while younger Alaptera were usually neutral colors such as beige, white, or even a dusty blue, they became more vibrant as they grew. Adira was a dark ruby color at the age of twenty-six cycles.
Alaptera were native to Apricus and were cunning hunters who attacked from the skies. They lived inside massive trees and did not require much rest, so they stayed awake day and night to build, hunt, nurture, and train.
Though Alaptera were territorial, they welcomed Nova with open arms—or wings—because they had never seen anything quite like her. A human…but not. They were intrigued by her and her abilities. They saw her as wise and powerful and even tried to worship her as if she were a goddess, but she refused to take the place of the real God in their lives.
They all loved her and thought she was unbreakable. Besides Adira. She knew everything about Nova, cracking her open as easily as an egg. She knew her weaknesses and strengths and used them to train her – to grow her power – because she believed Nova had great potential to defeat the monsters that are humankind.
Adira looked at her with that same belief now. Even more so after Nova’s presentation in the field, but Nova was too fatigued—too empty—to allow her praise to resonate. She may have opened up a gate to Caligo, but she couldn’t keep it open for long. She allowed her fears and sorrows to break her apart. It didn’t feel like progress.
“You need to rest now,” Adira wrapped a feathered arm around her, pulling her to her feet. “You can barely stand straight.”
All Nova could get out was a mumbled “okay” in Aprican as Adira guided her back to Great Tree, the biggest tree in all of Apricus, where only the highest-class Alaptera dwell. Her home.
An hour later, Nova was fed and cleaned. She was now lying in her hammock, staring up at the ceiling. She replayed the moment in the field when Adira told her not to forget and caused her to lose her strength. Her words were all it took for her to lose her grip and fail. How weak was she?
She clenched her fists, urging the tears threatening to pool out of her eyes to go away. She didn’t want to be pathetic. She was supposed to be growing stronger, not weaker. Use the reminder of humanity to fuel your anger—channel your powers, she told herself. But she couldn’t feel anger right now, only sorrow. About herself. About her weakness.
Her thoughts dissipated when a knock sounded at her door. “Nova? Are you still awake?” She knew immediately it was Adira, probably coming to lecture her about letting her emotions get in the way. It was only imminent.
“Come in,” Nova said with a sigh, preparing for the blows.
Adira entered, a smile filling her furry face. Her ruby coat glistens in the light of the lamp hanging by Nova’s hammock. “Are you feeling any better?”
“Somewhat,” she mumbled and sat up, causing the hammock to swing slightly.
“Good. You deserve the rest. You’ve been working hard.” She paused for only a beat before adding, “But you can do better.”
Already pulling out the punches, Nova groaned on the inside.
“You showed great strength opening up that portal tonight, but I saw weakness in you,” Adira explained. “I saw it in your eyes; you wanted to go back to the human world. You cannot allow yourself to fall into their arms. They have hurt you.”
Nova mulled this over. She knew humankind was careless and evil, but she could not include her father in that group. She didn’t want to admit this to Adira and look even weaker but, then again, Adira knew everything and would pull it out of her eventually.
“I hate them, I do,” she replied, her voice coming out weaker than she expected. “But my father is human. He is the only one who cares about me, besides you and the other Alaptera. Even if it sounds foolish of me, I want to see him again. I never got to say goodbye.”
Adira sighed and shook her head, her pointed ears drooping. “This is exactly the problem, Nova. You are too attached. You need to stop letting your emotions get in the way. Your father may care for you, but deep in his heart, he is evil. All humans are evil. You remember what I told you about my former planet?”
Her heart fell at the memory. Adira had a far worse experience with humans than she did. They raided her planet for resources, terminating thousands of Alaptera who tried fighting back. Her father and mother were killed when the humans blew their planet to pieces. Adira lived with a similar rage towards humanity, but she never showed weakness for them, unlike Nova.
Adira turned away to leave, but she looked back at Nova for a moment. “You have to understand that your father cannot be trusted. No human can be trusted. I say this out of care for you because I want you to never forget how powerful you are. You are stronger than those heartless creatures. Do not let your heart fall for them.”
Nova tried to stop herself, but she couldn’t resist the question, “Are there really no humans out there who are good?”
“Believe me, there are none. They all deserve to be destroyed. We will destroy them.”
She shut the door behind her, trapping Nova with the sentiment that still haunted her even in her dreams.
