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White Feather the World-Less

An Orphan's Journal

By J. S. WadePublished 4 years ago • Updated 4 years ago • 3 min read
White Feather the World-Less
Photo by Landon Parenteau on Unsplash

Prologue

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. I don't know who they are; I don't know who you are. I only know me. They could be Silak, my green feathered Tertian mentor. The Tertian flocks have taught me of the universe as best they understand, but they don't know from where I came. I hope to discover the answer before I scream and solve the puzzle once and for all.

Journal Entry One – My Letter to My Unknown World.

Dear Unknown World,

I was discovered in a hatching capsule catapulting through space at fifteen thousand miles an hour more than ten cycles of the sun ago by a Tertian explorer. I've grown much taller over the cycles, and my legs no longer fit inside the capsule. The Tertians invented ways to meet my unique nutrition and body cover needs. Tertians don't wear covering and are proud of their feathered bodies. The Blues and Greens don't get along unless the Cyclic season has come. Then I am ignored, and they act crazy. The Blues and Greens, Blues and the Blues, and Green and the Greens dance and strut around each other until they lock muzzles for the night. The following day they fight, and everything returns to normal until the yellows hatch.

For five cycles, the yellows are separated from the whole until the young Tertians pick their color of choice. No one knows what option the yellows will decide until picking time comes. Featherless and odd, I was excluded. I am ten and half cycles hatched, and neither Green nor Blue. Many nights have passed when I wish I could pick a color, but my skin only grows fine blonde filaments. Once, I glued my arms with yellow Tertian buds to blend in with the young ones, and the Tertians laughed. They like to laugh.

Silak said, "Featherless one, you are not of us, be your own special one. You are not of our world, but we care for you as you are. Keep learning the language we decrypted from your hatching capsule. The day will come when you will need it. We will need it."

Images of my kind were found in the capsule, and they realized my physiology required protection. My body would not regulate its temperature, so they made me a covering of molted feathers turned white. I am called White Feather the World-less. A wily blue Tertian named Albacore often squawked that I would bring bad luck to their World. A Tertian squawk is a fearful sound. I'm sure it could be heard in the vacuum of space; it makes me want to pee. I think the old Blue would dismantle me with its talons if Silak didn't protect me. Silak says Albacore was angry because no Green would agree to dance and lock muzzles during the Cyclic with such a Blue. I feel bad for the old bird because no one will pick me either.

I tell you my story because the Red feathers, who have foresworn the Cyclic, made the discovery of a faraway planet. They believe it to be my home world. Your strange objects that orbit their world are much like my sleek hatching capsule but much greater in size. Are you searching for me? Do you know where I have come from? Am I of your World? Are there other featherless creatures like me in your world? The Tertians debated long and voted to attach a message tube, with this letter, to your alien probe to announce my existence. Also, to forewarn you of my coming to your planet a half cycle later. Albacore voted against the mission and claimed contact with another world would doom Tertia. I am to follow as their emissary in a space transfer tube they modeled after my hatching capsule.

I am not afraid and grow excited to meet you though I will miss Salek, my favorite Green. Cyclic is coming again. I think a Blue has grown in Salek's favor, and a Green also. Preening every day in preparation is a tell. Either way, new hatchlings will soon come and occupy them.

I am excited to meet you and discover your world, maybe mine, and I hope I am liked for who I am.

Soon,

White Feather the World-less.

Sci Fi

About the Creator

J. S. Wade

Since reading Tolkien in Middle school, I have been fascinated with creating, reading, and hearing art through story’s and music. I am a perpetual student of writing and life.

J. S. Wade owns all work contained here.

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    Written by J. S. Wade