First message
Falling was unpleasant. I understood, suddenly, why my sister had complained about it. The earth struck harder than expected. Soil split beneath me, light scattering through the field in bright silver veins before fading into darkness. For several moments I remained kneeling in the crater, irritated more than injured, listening for her.
Nothing.
I could still feel her somewhere upon this world—faint but unmistakable.
“Little star,” I whispered. “What hast thou done?”
Then came footsteps. Heavy ones. I turned sharply.
A human stood at the edge of the crater carrying a lantern and what appeared to be a farming tool. Male. Broad shoulders. Mud-covered boots. Considerably larger than the humans I remembered observing from above.
He stared at me. I stared back. The lantern nearly slipped from his hand.
“Good God.”
I rose slowly, brushing glowing dust from my sleeves. His eyes widened further.
“What type of human are you?”
He blinked.
“…Pardon?”
I stepped closer. He stepped backwards. Interesting.
“You are unusually large.”
“I’m six foot five.”
I frowned.
Those words meant absolutely nothing to me.
“Is that a subspecies?”
The farmer stared.
“No.”
“Soldier?”
“No.”
“Giant ancestry?”
“What?”
I circled him once, studying the proportions of his shoulders with growing suspicion.
“You are very tall.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Why?”
He opened his mouth.
Closed it. I waited.