//------------------------------//
// Creation 
// Story: Mare Doloris 
// by TinCan 
//------------------------------//

I don't know whether I slept or not. All I know was that I had been lying there in a ball, waiting for death, or for anything at all, for some time when I heard a noise from above the ceiling. Here it comes, I thought numbly. Crushed like a bug.

For a little while, nothing more occurred.

Then the noise again. It was't the sound of blows or footsteps, but a steady rattling hiss, like sand carried by a desert wind. Was I being buried? I uncurled, re-lit the interior lights, and placed the tarnished icon reverently back on the shelf.

I was strangely calm. One can only experience any emotion, even fear, so long before numbness sets in, I learned. As a fasting ascetic eventually becomes insensitive to the pangs of hunger, one who sits overlong in the shadow of death begins to forget how to dread it.

A grim fatalism gripped me. The thing outside could end me at a whim, but for now it had refrained. It behooved me to use whatever time I had left in an upright and rational manner. Right now, that meant finding out what made that noise. I shuffled over to the skylight and looked up.

I flinched. There was a face on the other side of the glass.

It took a moment before I registered the lack of luminescent eyes. Fetching a portable lamp from a crate, I confirmed my suspicions: it was another one of the dust statues. The level of detail was truly impressive. The statue's snout was even wrinkled and its nostrils splayed out where they pressed against the surface of the window.

The sculpture, like the two I'd found during the excursion, did not appear the least bit imposing close-up. If I was reading the image's expression correctly, it was supposed to look curious and benign. Was the being that nearly bashed my head in responsible for making these things? It didn't seem possible, and yet I'd seen no one else.

A spark of hope rekindled. Perhaps there had been some sort of misunderstanding or a faux pas? Maybe my scaly, hexapedal, form was just as frightening to it as its eyes were to me! Do the sages not insist that all creatures of the Increate can dwell in harmony if they but choose to? It had treated me roughly, but I had been ready to blast it to ashes based merely on my frayed nerves and its startling appearance. I was not just some paranoid shut-in unable to deal with others; I was a hermit! I should be the better being!

Thus resolved, I poured myself a bowl of water from the cistern, sipped it and checked the view out my front window.

I nearly choked. The slope outside my hermitage, as far as the beacon's glow reached, was covered in statues by the hundreds. I fetched a field glass from the crate that had held the lamp and rushed back to the window.

It wasn't so much a statue garden as a scene; an enormous moon dust diorama. The closest statues were helmeted and barded like the creature. Each had either wings or a spike, but none had both. Some of these faced the rest of the crowd, as if keeping them back, while the majority stood in a single rank, watching my home with expressions of grim determination.

Behind the armored statues was a massive horde of...I suppose one would call them 'civilians'? Dust in the shape of unclothed creatures of every size stood in attitudes of gawking onlookers. Most were trying to see over or around the armored statues. One was reared up against the skewed beacon, several small ones were placing their own feet in my footprints, and others were gathered in little knots as if having discussions.

I was dumbfounded. Why would anyone do this, and how could it be done so quickly? Through the field glass, I could see the intricate details on each figure: eyelashes, inlay on armor, facial expressions. Though the same general designs were copied here and there, it was still an astounding accomplishment.

Motion and a familiar blue light in the distance caught my attention. The same azure glow that had carried me across the landscape was shining somewhere beyond the edge of the beacon's illumination. My hearts began pounding, and I threw the bowl aside so as to grip the field glass with both forelimbs and refocus.

The light was drawing nearer, and within its radius there was a constant flurry of motion.

I realized what I was seeing when the beacon's light also fell upon it. The tall blue-eyed creature was walking with proud and stately pace through the crowd of statues, its head-spike blazing like a torch. All the statues adjacent to it were wrapped in glowing fields of force, and they seemed to quicken, turning to face the creature and bowing low to it with lifelike motion. After it passed them by, the glow moved on and they remained inert as before. I had seen artistic use of warp fields and gravity manipulation such as this before, but never used on so many objects or with such precision!

What did it mean, though? Why the inanimate crowds and meaningless pomp? Why were the statues all so much smaller than it? For whom was this elaborate puppet show intended?

It had now reached the line of statues in armor. They glowed, saluted smartly, and cleared a path, two breaking rank to flank it. The three stepped up to my doorstep. The creature turned to face the crowd, waved to them and began making a soundless address to the deaf, motionless statues. It would have been comical were it not obvious that I was the subject of its speech.

Then, something very strange happened, if that word has any meaning after the events just described.

There was a flash of blue light in the midst of the statues. A single, tiny one broke from the crowd and ran up to the creature, its footfalls leaving no marks in the dust. It had its own tiny spike and set of wings; I could see them clearly when it passed close by my window. The miniature statue leaped on the creature and wrapped itself around one of its forelegs, shaking fearfully and mouthing frantic words. The creature started and looked down at it, surprise written on its face.

My confusion redoubled. How could it be surprised? Wasn't it controlling these things?

The creature's shining eyes softened and it raised its other foreleg to stroke the little statue's dusty hair. Its mouth moved as if it were speaking words of comfort. Gently, it pried the statue off and set it down in the dust. The childlike sculpture's glow faded and it de-animated, still looking fearful and uncertain.

Then the creature turned back to my door, raised its head back, and brought its spike down with a crash that shook the entire habitat. There was now a sizable dent in the outer airlock door.

I glanced uncertainly at the boxes I'd piled against the inner door, regretting that I'd bothered with them at all. My spare excursion suit was in one of them, and I didn't have time to dig it out and get it working.The barricade wouldn't hold against a determined assault, not from that thing outside, and if it had to break down the doors to get in, well, vacuum appeared to trouble only one of us.

I returned power to the airlock and flipped the switch to open the outer door, praying the creature would understand that it had to wait for the chamber to pressurize.

The outer door lifted, nearly catching at the dent. The creature smiled triumphantly and stepped in with its two guards in tow. While the lock cycled, I hurriedly pushed the containers out of the way.

Hermits' cells are not spacious or complex. There was no place I could hide where I wouldn't be found out in mere moments. I'd have to meet the creature. I detached the translator from my damaged suit and hung it around my neck by its lanyard. The being had tried to talk before. Perhaps now that it would be in an atmosphere it would be more successful.

The light above the inner door flashed green and the airlock slowly rose open. The instinctual impulse to roll up rose in me again, and I only barely resisted it. It was as if the mere proximity of this thing provoked fear, regardless of my own will. Instead, I simply stood there in the middle of the room, waiting for whatever came next.

After all I'd seen so far, I had no inkling of what to expect.