Ethereal

The Year 2036

The night was warm before the wind blew in from over the mountains, bringing a chill over the plains and the valley. The moon had fled from the sky hours earlier, casting the land into a deep darkness that would frighten any man without a flame to guide his way through the night.

“Wake up,” The boy felt his shoulder shake. He sat up in his bed and saw his father standing over him, throwing clothes onto his bedside. The boy picked through the pile, pinching the thick material of his winter clothes. His nose wrinkled in distaste – they were still in the heat of summer. He would burn up within ten minutes of wearing such thick clothes.

“What’s going on?” said the boy.

“Put these in a bag and come downstairs. Be quick, and don’t turn on the light.” Said his father. He turned to leave the room but faltered when he felt the boy grab his sleeve.

“Dad,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “where are we going?”

His father looked from the door and back down at his son, conflict swirling in his eyes. Finally, he sighs, kneeling next to his son’s bed before speaking to him in a low voice.

“None of this is to be repeated to your sister, is that clear?” he said. The boy nodded his head in a silent agreement. “Do you remember the story I told you? About the people from Pluto?” he said. The boy nodded.

“They took a medicine that makes them live forever, but it made them sad.”

“That’s right,” said the boy’s father, “and all that sadness made them bad. And to make the badness go away, they hurt people. That’s why they came here – there was no one left on their planet to hurt, so they came to earth.”

“And they’re coming now?”

“They’re coming, yes.”

“But the government is going to fight them, right?”

“They’re going to try.”

“We’ll still find a way to win though, dad?”

The boy’s father looked down at him with sad eyes and forced his lips to curl up into a smile. “I don’t know, kiddo. I hope so.”

The boy frowned, “Then where are we going if the government is going to win?”

“There’s still a chance they won’t win against the Pluto people, kiddo.”

“So we’re going to run away?”

The man swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in the back of his throat. He had always taught his children to never run away from a fight, to face the world head on. If they did that, then they would never lose. But with the people from Pluto growing closer to the Citadel’s walls, he wasn’t sure if anyone was going to win.

“Yes,” said the boy’s father, his voice a weak croak, “we’re going to run.”