They said that if you made it across the red desert, you would arrive in a land of blue rock. Vivin didn’t even know what blue looked like, but he figured he would know it when he saw it. His whole life had been the dry red earth stretching into the far taunting horizon of the harsh red sky. Based on what the elders sang about on nights when the three moons rose, they were a banished people.

Long ago, when the first bright stars fell from the sky and brought beings from above, the Himfalan, ruler of the three lands, had welcomed them. She had allowed them to use their strange magics and tools to change the planet’s landscape. Vivin’s ancestors had led a rebellion against the Himfalan. Back then, their voices of power were still potent, but even with singing the forbidden songs of destruction and death, they failed to win against the power of the Himfalan and her new alien allies. For their crimes, Vivin’s ancestors were banished to the fourth land.

Vivin wrapped the rican scale blanket tighter around himself and pushed deeper into the hole he’d buried himself in for the night. His antennae stuck just a bit out of the ground, and he could hear the predators of the night calling to each other. He shivered and wished his mother was with him. The unfortunate story of his people happened millions of years ago, and apparently, more recent Himfalans had sent envoys to bring his people back to the three lands. Most took the offer, but some remained unrepentant and vowed to suffer in the red desert rather than live among aliens.

Vivin had only known the desert, and so had everyone else he knew. None of them had ever met an alien before, and they couldn’t even tell you why they hated them, but they carried the rage of their ancestors upon their backs. They gnashed their teeth in fury over a war they never fought in and took joy in the weight of sins they did not commit. Vivin shivered and was tempted to sing a song of heat, but he was still too close to the hunting ground of his people. They would not be looking for him yet, but someone might hear the echoes of his song.

He closed his eyes and willed sleep to come, but his heart kept pounding. The sound filled his ears and kept sleep at bay. 

“How will I walk tomorrow if I don’t sleep now?” he whispered. 

He clenched his fists and tried to expel more air out of his body through his antenna. Usually, when he was having trouble sleeping, his mother would guide him through the deep exhalations that would allow him to go into a state almost like hibernation for the night. He was definitely old enough to do it himself, which was what his fathers had always said, but she helped him anyway.

As she guided the air out of him, she would tell him stories. Vivin began exhaling again and imagined his mother was with him now, still alive and still telling him stories to help him sleep. His favorite story was the one about when she ran away from home. A member of the Guimol tribe, from farther north, in the direction he was now traveling, had visited his tribe and told them of an envoy from the three lands that had visited their tribe. The envoy had brought an alien with them. It was an alien that lived in something called rawa. It was green and traveled in a clear floating bubble filled with the rawa. His mother Hadn’t known what those words meant, but the story had inspired her, and she’d run away determined to meet the alien.

Of course, she hadn’t made it very far. Her parents had found her and brought her back. Fortunately, she was female and too valuable to the tribe, so she could not be killed. She had been kept in a sealed borough for eight weeks and then released. She was always adamant that she did not regret her actions, so she named him Vivin, which was apparently the alien’s name. Vivin’s heart rate slowed to almost a stop. His fists unclenched, and finally, sleep came. 

# # #

Vivin rolled the tips of his antenna around through the small holes in the ground. He tested the air in every way he could, scent, vibrations, sound, and finding nothing out there, he finally stuck his head out of the ground. The red sky welcomed him. To the east, Carak, the deep red sun, hung in the air, and towards the north, Rivan and Colacta, two of the three moons, were like white specters masked by wispy clouds. Vivin looked around again as his eyes adjusted to the light. Some black criptans flew in flocks across the sky. A small hedwig rolled across the red earth in front of him, picking up insects in its mouth as it rolled. There were no dangerous animals around, and most importantly, there were no people.

He rolled his shoulders out of the hole, then stuck his arms out to pull himself the rest of the way. He glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the Cadioun forest. The tall line of red stone trees was eerily still, and Vivin gulped. The hairs on the back of his neck raised, and his antenna shivered. He quickly filled up the hole and did his best to hide traces that he’d been there. It only needed to look good from a distance so that no one would come closer to investigate. There would be no hiding that he was there if anyone came within a few feet as his scent was rich in the air. 

“Ok. Let’s make some good progress today.” He stretched his neck out, then faced in the direction of the two moons and started running. 

Somewhere in that direction were the three blue lands. Vivin ran on all fours, pushing himself to move as fast as possible. Whenever he felt tired or the thought of taking a break snuck into his mind, he imagined each shadow from the rocks were his fathers’ shadows, hunting him down, and the thought spurred him on. 

The hunt would have started that morning when they found him missing from his borough, and whether they wanted to or not — and he knew they would want to — his fathers would be charged with leading the hunt. It wasn’t that there was anything worth chasing after him for. He hadn’t stolen anything or even taken any food with him. He’d left home with the blanket his parents wove for him, some coins he’d saved up, and his flute. His absence in the tribe would not even be noticed as many others could play the flute during The Bright Night and other occasions, as well as take care of the livestock. Still, they would chase after him, even if the cost of chasing him would be more than any benefit he could provide.

 He had to be brought back, and his death made a spectacle because the consequences of abandoning the tribe had to be fully carved into the minds of every member. Even if he were to die along the way and never make it to the blue lands, there would always be doubt if there was no corpse to show. People would start to wonder if he survived. And if he survived, did he make it to the three blue lands? Once that possibility was allowed to take root, others would attempt to do what he’d done, and the elders could not allow that. So Vivin ran with all his might.  

Vivin panted as he came to a staggering stop. His chest heaved in and out, and his heartbeat felt more like kicks to the chest. He collapsed in the shade of the rocks and tried to catch his breath. He looked back the way he’d come. The tall spires of the stone forest were no longer visible, and aside from birds and small lizards, there was no sign of anyone. Still, he did not relax. His eyes continued to scan his surrounding as he began humming the beginning tune for the song of water. 

He felt his mana begin to flow into his throat and closed his eyes. The tune, one of the first he’d learned, came quickly to him. He hummed with his throat while his antennae let out bursts of ultrasonic sound. Together a song formed and coalesced the mana in the air. He opened his eyes, and a clear sphere floated before him. Water flowed into his open mouth as if pulled by gravity. He drank quickly, sustaining the song with his antenna. Once he had his fill, he stopped singing, and the mana dispersed. Immediately, his head began to spin, and he leaned his back against the rock. He felt bile rise to his throat, but he kept it down. He couldn’t afford to lose the water he’d just drunk. His stomach rolled in angry waves from hunger and nausea from using his powers while already so low on energy. He sighed and leaned back as the wave of dizziness passed. 

He was surrounded by rocks of various sizes, most taller than him. He slowly got up and began walking. He’d never seen anything like this before. Unlike the loosely organized tall and slim stone spires that made up the Cadioun forest, this looked almost like a mountain had exploded and its shards embedded in the ground. He moved carefully through the irregular slabs of rock. Movement caught his eye, and he froze and held his breath. Just ahead of him was a limpar. The small creature hunched over an insect on top of one of the rocks. Vivin slid behind the rock he was up against, laid flat on the floor, and carefully crawled towards it. He tucked his antennae down and made sure not to scrap the pads of his hands and feet against the ground. He made it into the shadow of the rock the limpar was on. It had started chewing on the insect. 

Vivin held his breath, then, in one motion, leaped up, extended one of his claws out, and sliced the limpar’s head clean off. He caught the body before it fell and almost shed a tear at his luck.

“Thank you for your sacrifice,” he muttered as he sliced the creature open and bit into it. He ate more than half of the limpar before stopping himself. Some had to be saved for later, so he cut the rest into thin strips, then sang a quick song of preservation on it and put it away in his sack. The sun was high in the sky, and the heat was punishing, but Vivin turned northward again and began running.