Author: Aubrey Williams

The planet hangs as a dull pebble in sluggish orbit. They’ve moved on, the inhabitants, or perhaps they succumbed. We are unsure, there’s much to keep track of, and if it’s not a sanctioned or protected celestial body, there’s no reason to look further. Some minerals of interest, and unusual formations, so enough to warrant an expedition. It’s been a long time, we’ve been told, since anyone made a trip out here. We can see why. We must admit that there’s relatively little we know about this strange rock.

We disembarked our craft, pleased that our cosmic tunics and caps provided ample protection, and that we could naturally digest the air. Our hairs were lifted by occasional breaths of wind, but nothing harsh. We recall the sky being a wet-green peach, some cumulative haze and vapour. The scanners indicated a large subterranean shaft under an antique structure, with a vault or chamber— perhaps a series of them— below. Ambulating a modest distance from our landing sight, there lies a humped construction of robust material; we opened it with our star-cutters, preferring to use what was once a door— it was impossible to find a way to interact with it.

Faded sigils lined the walls in cyphers and speech quite unknown to us. We thought one depicted a flower, angular and refined. A cage guarded a shaft, some sort of descender perhaps, but too old now. Space enough on the sides for us to use gravity hooks and lines, though we ingested some warming draught to help protect against the precipitating decline in temperature. It was a long journey down these bones, and very dark. We were struck by how silent it was, and the lack of ornamentation after so many peculiar runes. Perhaps a structure of different times and cultures that had come together?

Some dome or cap of rare mineral ore lay at the bottom, our lights revealing recessed symbols and pictograms that seemed to tell a story similar to the one in the atrium. It was hard work with the cutters, but we persevered. While already the information was interesting, we had made excellent time. The cap was thick, telling of the great wealth its builders worked with. Perhaps, we thought, we might salvage it and distribute.

A vast maze of some kind lay before us, more of the stylised symbols snaking around the walls, and tomb-like epigraphs on the floor. Discarded chariots lay dormant. We were close to weeping— so well-preserved. All of us agreed to follow straight ahead, and descended ramps after ramps, eventually winding around a singular central vein to a chamber, guarded by another embellished door. It too was a work of art. Within this chamber we found cylinders buried in fine sands, made of minerals and alloys, sealed tight. We cut open one of these eggs and saw the fine blue pellets inside, seeds! We were overjoyed. They sparkled a little, a glittering thing. We left with different amphorae, our mouths rich with the tang of ores.

It was time to depart, and we returned home. Many scholars hurriedly recorded our details, viewed our logs with glee. We brought the delightful seeds home, and shared them with the families. Now we wonder, though, why the seeds have not taken in the way we hoped. We are finding our hairs have begun to thin and fall out, and burns have appeared unexpectedly. Our littlest one finds it difficult to stay awake, and the draughts are almost impossible to consume without regurgitating them.

Our dreams are of the flower, and how it haunts us.