As I step off the Valentina I pull the oxygen mask over my mouth. My eyes immediately start to water as the acidic air blows in my face. The violet sun burns in the sky with a vengeance, giving everything a harsh edge. The ship landed at the end of my father’s vineyard. I’d been trying not to think about our destination for the entire journey, distracting  myself by playing Triangulum with Riyan and sleeping. Even though it’s been three years since the loss I suffered the day the Prismata was destroyed has been eating me alive. I lift my eyes and my stomach drops. I gasp, an invisible hand stealing the air from my lungs. I can’t think as a wave of devastation flows through me.

Ruined. Everything is ruined. The houses and winery facilities have been leveled, not a beam of wood left standing. The land is scoured with deep gauge marks left by pieces of ships that were blasted off their vessel. The shapes of the vines have been seared into the earth. The slinke forest beyond the vineyard has been burned to the ground, littered with charred stumps.

My vision is blurred as tears pool in my eyes. As if in a trance, I start a slow trudge across the baron land. I register the sound of Riyan’s footsteps following me, but I don’t care enough to acknowledge him. As I progress, memories of my life on this vineyard flash through my mind. They’re so bright and vivid, almost as if I was travelling back in time and reliving my childhood. But as soon as they come, they fade away, slipping through the cracks of my mind like water between my fingers. And as each memory disappears, my heart sinks a little more. Until it reaches my feet. Until I can’t feel it anymore. All I’m left with is a feeling of loneliness so intense it cripples my mind to the point were I can’t even form a coherent thought.

By the time I come back to my senses, I’ve traversed well into the mountains. Bringing my feet to a halt, I lift my head and force myself to focus on my surroundings. I’m standing in a little nook between two mountains, a valley lush with grass and adorned with a crystalline lake. Around the lake grow bushes heavy with wild berries. Brown robes flutter on the edge of my vision. Riyan is still with me.

At the edge of the lake I notice a huge slinke tree, its arms and leaves creating a natural umbrella. I walk up to it and feel my eyes widen. Its base is so wide that if Riyan and I were to reach our arms around it, standing with our fingers touching, we would only cover a little less than half of it. Climbing over its roots, I find a flat piece of land tucked between to roots, like a valley between two mountains. I turn to Riyan.

“I want it to be here,” I murmur.

Riyan nods. “Then let’s get started,” he announces.

Riyan takes the job of finding the rocks while I build the miniature pyramids. Before I start, I dig two little holes where I want to build the pyramids. Pyramids. Not grave markers, just decorative pyramids In the holes I place two pebble sized prisms and I’m filling the holes back-up with dirt when Riyan arrives with the rocks. He sets them down beside me and leaves, giving me some much appreciated privacy.

I pick up a rock but my hands are shaking so much that I almost immediately drop it . Taking a deep breathe, I try to steady them. Suddenly, there’s a hand on top of mine. It’s my mom’s. I still. I can’t see her face but I can feel her crouching over me. The smell of the sterile clinic mixed with a hint of herbal medicine clings to her, soothing my nerves. Guiding my hands she helps me build the pyramid. When it’s done, she lets go.

“Mom,” I plead. But when I turn around, there’s no one there. I choke back a sob and turn back to my project.

Another pair of hands clasp mine, startling me. The hands are soft like leather and stained with the shades of Amethyne wine. My father. I look up and find his eyes smiling back at me. Lowering my head, I pull my hands away and start on the second pyramid. I can hear his breathing as I work, sense the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest as he watches me. When I’m done a low baritone envelops my body. I realize with a start that its my father’s voice.

“We’re here, Stacia. We’re always here,” he whispers gently.

My head snaps up. But my dad is gone. I’m alone again.

In that instant, my safe, controlled mind breaks. All the pain, the sadeness, and the guilt I’ve been suppressing for three years comes roaring to life. My parents are dead. I watched them die. And I did nothing. I’m pathetic. I hadn’t been able to save the galaxy, or the Prismata, or even my own parents. Instead, I watched them disappear as I sat safely in the Valentina. I had destroyed my parent’s lives and them abandoned them on a war stricken planet. Three months later, they sacrificed themselves so that I could live on. I didn’t deserve their love. I still don’t. But no matter how much I want to, I can’t bring them back. Even if I offered up my own life, there is no way to bring back the dead. Today I made empty graves for the two most important people in my life. And they’re gone because of me.

Because of me.

With that last thought, I slip into unconsciousness. In the empty void of my own making I float, as if I’m in zero gravity. Voices curl around my body, tickling my ears.

“We’re sorry… And we love you… we love you… love you… you,” they echo. My parents’ last words.

“Stacia,” my dad rumbles. “It’s time for us to go.”

I try to say no, but my mouth won’t form the words. I can’t speak. All I can do is listen.

“Stacia, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. We chose to stay in the station,” my mom soothes.

But it is my fault. Can’t they see that? If I had been quicker, smarter, if I had tried harder, then they would still be here.

“No Stacia. You did everything you could. And we felt that we should too. We are so proud of the woman you’ve grown into. Everything we did was worth it. And remember, you’re never truly alone. Just look up at the stars and know that we’re looking right back.” His voice softens with emotion.

I love you too. I love you guys so much. From now on, I’ll try for you.  I’ll live for you.

My eyes flutter open and I shiver at the drop in temperature. Slowly, I start to pull myself up off the ground. I freeze when I realize that there is another body lying next to mine. I cautiously turn my head, and gasp.

“Elki?” My voice is barely a whisper. He opens one sleepy eye and glares at me, telling me I’ve disturbed his sleep. Ignoring the look, I reach out and pet his mane. It’s coarse and dirty from lack of washing, but I don’t care. Elki is alive. A part of my family is alive.

“Stacia?” Riyan calls. “You okay?”

“Yes, I’m coming out,” I reply. When I reach Riyan I say, “This is Elki, my mantibu.”

“Yes, we got acquainted before he went looking for you,” Riyan admits. He smiles as Elki stretches his neck and pushes it into his hand. Riyan complies and scratches the mantibu’s coat. I chuckle and shake my head. Elki always did like attention. Sighing, I raise my head to the sky. An idea comes to me.

“Follow me! I want to show you something,” I say excitedly.

Leading the way, I follow a trail that brings us up the mountain and onto a cliff. I seat myself near the edge, facing Afka. Riyan sits next to me and Elki lies down behind us. After a minute, it happens. The setting sun hits Afka at just the right angle and the town lights up like a light shining on pieces of glass. The sky is painted with the colors of my father’s wine, rich violets and reds. The twin moons peek over the horizon. I take a deep breath of the cool, crisp air. As I exhale, I feel a weight lift off my shoulders, and it feels like I can finally breathe for the first time in three years. I look up at the night sky and two twinkling stars staring back.