Mirrors of Fire

~Stars~

Melancholy is everything that the rain brought. Clandestine memories from days where the sun witnessed love and passion never experienced. The youthful years guided and build lives along the shores of the island where they stood witnessing the stars sail past a memory. Something that remained there for eternity always caught their minds and heart. The red moon with formations reminiscent of carvings of some ancient angels who left centuries before to their destiny. This life has always been of seeking and observing, trying to recapture the majesty of the universe before everything fades into the baryonic ash.

~New Horizon~

Lyra, the northern constellation witnessed the first ever human explorations outside the solar system a millennia ago. Those bold dreamers who chanced upon a door that would redeem humanity and provide a passage to escape the dying earth. No regret remained for the earth that fell under the greed of men and machines. All that remained of earth are folksongs heard along the shores of this vast sea enveloping the planet and us, humans. They did not sing for the lost glory or sadness but for the triumph of having left the planet for good. Humanity matured a thousand years ago and here we were.

The blazing starships of earth never actually reached their destinations. Some say the builders never wanted them to be far from earth. Silly old men caught in their romantic obsessions of that old rock. We should have ventured long before when the space race opened our eyes, but we let the petty politics of yesteryear gods poking holes into our future. But now everything was done and calm. We went our ways. More than a hundred giant liners left earth that fateful year. There were no names for that event, it was planned and we left without any spectacle or goodbye. The mere billion, who did not want to leave, are history now. The occasional hyper signal or a stray freighter would bring messages of the crippled earth. Nothing much was left for humanity after the 21^st century. The later decades of the century saw drastic reduction in the population, down to a few billion compared to the height of a dozen billion in the year 2050.

Daggers and missiles, sweeping human fear and tears throughout centuries, gave no forward to what will happen. Not the cold war, not the oil wars, not the religious wars, the youths of the latter 21st century received their call and rewrote history. Deep roots were severed, as masterful surgeons and mechanical geniuses rebuild the sapiens, and star ships, so that we can fly away. A future where we are the intelligent beings, scattering the galaxies with our messages of existence. Matter and waves are mere tools, supplements to rebuild civilization of planets in cataclysmic solar systems, with earths the size of Jupiter that defies old school science.

We used binary mecators, and plastic sentience to signify that we reached a new dawn, where we stood for one dream. What skies we learned to be blue, what planets were drawn to the lines of feathers tipped into ink, flowing through ages, has finally reached a new dawn. We touched the horizon as the observatories flashed in their singularity webs, the message that we raced to the new worlds. Its the discovery, the spirit on fire to live our wishes. This new horizon, in it we are building memories of entropy, of our new existence in the mirrors of fire.

~End, Chapter 1~