The walls of the ruins were decorated with faded murals and chiseled reliefs, some barely recognizable. Others were completely desecrated. There were blue streaks of stone on the ground and the walls, growing denser the farther we traveled. I had to step lightly over them so I wouldn’t trip.
“Did they move to a different planet? Did their food run out? Did they destroy themselves?” I wondered aloud, studying the murals of beautiful humanoids withspindly arms and legs, dancing across the stone like they were made of air.
Sian glanced up at one of the faded murals, studying it with his starshine eyes. “Yes. They did. An entire people killed instantly, most of them where they stood.” Then he stopped just before one of the blue streaks of stone, and I came up beside him. He motioned to it.
But now that I looked at it, something was off. A face, and a head—arms and fingers and legs and toes, all curled around a smaller bundle—
I lurched back. “Stars! It’s a grave! You brought me to agrave?”
He gave me a strange look. “You take people to a grave every tour.”
Alderaan.I squared my shoulders and rooted myself to the spot, determined not to desecrate any more. “That’s different, Sian.”
“How?”
“Because we help the station—we pay respect to those we lost. What are we doinghere?”
In reply, he sighed and put his hands back in his pockets. “Paying respects, too. C’mon, a little farther.” He started into the darkness again, but I lingered behind, debating whether to turn and leave this hollow place. How was I any different than Val had been all those years ago when he’d snuck away to break into anImperial walker and see the bones of Imperial soldiers?
Sian called over his shoulder, “The whole galaxy’s a graveyard, Starlight. We’re all made from the dust of things that came before us.”
“I know that…” I mumbled, and gently stepped around the blue stone to reach him, folding my fingers into his again. Though this time I knew when my heart jumped, it wasn’t from the sweet-smelling flowers. “I just don’t want to dishonor them.”
“And we aren’t, trust me on that. You told me I wasn’t alone in the galaxy. So I wanted to return the sentiment.” A soft wind swept through the corridor. Suddenly, he perked up. “Oh, it’s time! Quick, close your eyes. Do you hear that?”
I closed my eyes.
And there, in the quiet of the temple, came the faintest of sounds—of wind whispering through the cracks in the ruins, of the river rushing through the ravine, the world breathing in groans and cracks.
The Elderels’ song persisting.
It grew louder, giving way to popping crackles, like wood burning. I opened my eyes—
And gasped.
The temple flickered with light. The petrified remains began to shift, sprigs of algae blossoming over their limbs, glowing effervescent blue in the dark. Thenthey broke off their stems, like leaves in the wind, and floated into the air.
“This way,” he whispered, as if anything louder would disturb the sight, and pulled me through a narrow passageway that led to a set of spiraling stairs. We climbed, and climbed. My lungs burned, but I followed him up. The darkness slowly grew lighter and lighter, until windows began to light our way, and still we climbed, the ground getting farther and farther below.
We were in one of the spires, I realized. They weren’t just sheaves of rock—they were towers.
As we climbed, the floating tufts of algae caught up with us, pouring out of the windows, and lit our way to the top of the tower, glowing a soft and welcoming blue.
When we finally got there, the algae swarmed up and around us, drifting higher and higher into the evening sky like lanterns. The foliage and sweet flowers far below had shriveled, closing their buds for the night and leaving the air salty and fresh and cool. Dusk colored the landscape in hues of orange and cream as the twin suns sank below the horizon.
And pulled us into darkness.
Far below, the lander’s warm light spilled across the landing platform in front of the research facility,Starstalllooking like little more than a toy from this distance.
Above us, the stars were impossibly bright.
A bubbling laugh escaped me—I couldn’t help it. “It’s beautiful!” I marveled. “I’ve never seen anything like this before in my life.”
“I hadn’t, either,” Sian agreed. “The algae can only grow on the petrified bodies of the Elderels.” He caught a lantern of algae in his hand, and the light leaked out between his fingers. “They believed that when you die, you don’t simply cease to exist. You are still of and part of the galaxy. Bits of you stay. They just change a little.”
He let it go, and the lantern algae drifted up, and up, and up.
“I like that thought. That pieces of us stay when we die. My mentor’s teachings are in me, and the love of your mom is in you, and those things can only grow in us. It’s our job to remember them, and nurture the pieces that stayed.”
