April 2019. 04:??. The disappearance.

Sometime during the night, Kiri woke up.

She lay in the boat on her back with her eyes wide open. She gazed at the sky above, noticing that the stars were unusually bright. There seemed to be many more of them than usual, as though an artist had had a bucket of stars and spilled it all over the sky canvas. She could see the Renedin galaxy streaking across the sky diagonally in her view.

The grass was still. There was no wind. No other people.

She noticed this and held her breath as if it were the right thing to do. As if one breath could drastically shift the balance of everything.

She watched the sky and waited. Waited for something to happen. Anything.

After some time, a small breeze began to pick up. She sighed with relief.

Feeling restless now, she slowly sat up in the boat. It rocked slightly and she grabbed the rim on either side to steady it. She scanned the plains. Something about them made her uneasy.

Using the rim of the boat for leverage, she stood up. Stepped out of the boat into the long grass.

Everything looked so vast and empty, and yet so richly vibrant. She’d slept in the plains only once before during a camping trip with her uncle, but she had never felt such a difference from the usual nights in the plains. Maybe it was because of the stars?

She began to walk slowly. Meandered with her head oriented toward the sky, turning on her feet a few times to observe the stars at different angles. She began to smile without realizing it.

After traveling many meters away from the boat, she decided to stop on top of one of the shallow hills. Her gaze remained tied to the stars. It was almost as if they were looking back at her. She took some comfort thinking that she was the sole person that the audience of stars was routing for.

As she stared at the sky, something flashed at the corner of her vision. Her eyes darted to where it had appeared. A shooting meteoroid. She looked pleasantly surprised. That wasn’t something she saw every day, especially with the light pollution in her town.

Upon resolving to count every single one, she began to count silently. Continuously turned on her feet. One appeared at nearly every point in the sky that she could barely keep track of them. The rate at which the meteoroids streaked increased significantly. It soon got to the point when she became unable to count them. She stared dumbfounded at the phenomenon with her mouth slightly agape.

She mouthed the words “what the…” Stood there for what felt like hours, trapped by the beauty of the scene. Never in her life had she seen a meteor shower like this one, even during the power outages in the town on the clearest nights. Was it even possible?

As she stood there unsuspecting, something else flickered at the corner of her vision, reflecting the intense light of the stars. This time it was on the horizon. Jarred back into reality from her trance, she inclined her head slightly to the side. Looked in the direction of the new phenomenon.

The thing in the distance wasn’t as clear or bright as the meteoroids, however, it was no less pervading. It seemed to get larger and larger, spreading across the horizon and making its way towards her. She directed her full gaze at it. Leaned forward and squinted. At first, it appeared to move slowly. However, the closer it got, the faster it seemed to travel. It was then she realized it was water.

With a surge of panic, her eyes widened and she stumbled back. Looked around frantically as she searched for the boat. It was too far away. The hill she stood on seemed to be the safest place at the moment. Returning her gaze to the rapidly spreading water, she braced herself and held her breath. Waited for the worst.

At some point, Kiri closed her eyes.

For some reason, when the water arrived where she stood, it felt soft—almost feathery. Almost like the wind. It whirled softly around her ankles, prompting her to slowly open her eyes out of curiosity.

It looked exactly like water. However, what surprised her was that it was soundless, along with the fact that she could barely feel it.

As the water—or whatever it was—continued to wind around her ankles, she lifted her foot up. Let the strange liquid drip. She started walking with ease through the current while looking dazedly downward.

As she walked, the grass under the water began to light up around her—a breathtaking golden sheen coming to life one blade at a time in quick succession. She turned on her feet again, gasping. She could now see the grassy plains in their entirety—a vast expanse of glowing grass blades softly and lazily waving in the water’s current. She reached her hand down. Lightly grazed the water. Then reached further and ran her fingers through the grass blades. Her expression grew amazed.

“This is unreal,” she whispered.

As she took her hand out of the water, she stood back up straight and looked back up at the sky. Meteorites still painted themselves between the stars. The wind sped up, tossing her hair in front of her face. She pulled some loose strands away from her eyes and completely surrendered herself to everything surrounding her.

So even the grass had a light of its own. The plains had been nothing but empty space-filler until this point. It was like they’d finally revealed their secrets to her.