Chapter 08: The Weight of Stars
The days bled together like the drifting nebula outside, a soft, lingering haze that made the world feel far away. The ship, once a place of shared purpose, had become a haunted space—an empty vessel carrying the weight of their unspoken truths.
Lena kept her distance, both physically and emotionally, from Rian. She buried herself in the mission, focusing on the data, the scans, the coordinates they had to hit. But even that felt like a fragile shell, barely holding together. They were nearing the center of the nebula, the spot where the Arkanite crystals were said to lie buried—if they could just find them in time.
The longer she stayed with Rian, the more the walls she’d built around herself began to crumble. It was dangerous. She couldn’t let herself feel for him. Couldn’t let herself care. He was everything she couldn’t afford—freedom, passion, risk. He was the storm she’d spent her life avoiding, and yet, she couldn’t ignore the way he had made her feel—alive, seen, human again.
It was a dangerous line to walk, and Lena had never been good at balancing it.
“Lena,” Rian’s voice echoed through the empty corridor, pulling her from her thoughts. She stiffened but didn’t turn around.
“Yeah?” she replied, keeping her tone as neutral as possible.
“I’ve got something,” he said, his voice tight with urgency. “You should see this.”
Lena sighed inwardly. She had been hoping for a few more hours to herself, to clear her head before diving back into their work. But she knew it wasn’t something she could avoid. Not now.
With a reluctant glance over her shoulder, she moved toward the cockpit, where Rian was hunched over the navigation console, his eyes glued to the screen. He didn’t look up as she entered, his focus entirely on the data before him.
“What is it?” she asked, standing just behind him.
Rian finally looked up, his gaze sharp and intense. “I think I’ve found a way to locate the crystals. There’s a resonance frequency—one that matches the signal we’re picking up.”
Lena peered over his shoulder at the screen. Sure enough, there were strange patterns flashing in a rhythmic sequence, something that had eluded them until now. Her heart gave a flutter of hope.
“How long until we reach it?” she asked, feeling a stir of anticipation. For the first time in days, the tension in her chest began to loosen.
Rian tapped a few keys, adjusting the ship’s trajectory. “We’ll be in range in a couple of hours. But Lena—” He hesitated, his eyes meeting hers. “This won’t be easy. The nebula’s interference is only going to get worse the closer we get.”
“I know,” she said softly, but her mind was already running, calculating the risks. “But we can’t afford to wait any longer.”
He nodded, turning back to the console. “No, we can’t.”
Lena stood still for a moment, watching him work. There was an ease to him now, a quiet confidence she hadn’t seen before. It was strange, how quickly she had come to rely on him, even if she couldn’t admit it out loud.
But as the minutes ticked by, she realized something else had changed between them. The distance that had grown after their last confrontation was still there, lingering in the silence. It wasn’t just the mission anymore; it was the weight of their unspoken feelings, their shared, fractured pasts that neither of them could ignore.
It felt like the world was pressing down on them—on her. The burden of their choices. The impossible task ahead. And, in the back of her mind, the undeniable fact that if they didn’t succeed, Aurelia would fall. And she wasn’t sure she could live with that.
Rian glanced at her again, this time meeting her gaze fully, and there was something in his eyes—an unspoken question, a hesitation that mirrored her own.
“I didn’t mean to make things harder,” he said quietly. “You’re right, we need to focus on the mission. But I can’t help but feel like—like we’re running out of time.”
Lena felt her pulse quicken. “We are,” she whispered, not sure if she was talking about the mission, or something deeper. “We’re running out of time for everything.”
She turned away, her chest tight as she moved to the small table where she had been marking coordinates and scribbling notes. She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t let him see what was happening in her chest, the fear, the vulnerability.
“Lena,” he said again, softer this time. “I know this is hard. I know you’ve been running for a long time, but you don’t have to do it alone anymore. Whatever happens with this mission… with Aurelia… I won’t leave you.”
Her heart hammered in her chest. The words were too much, too close to what she had been afraid to hear.
But still, she couldn’t find the strength to turn to face him. Instead, she swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, keeping her voice steady.
“Let’s finish this,” she said, forcing the words out. “For Aurelia.”
There was a long silence between them. And when she finally glanced back at him, there was a faint smile on his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Right,” he said, his voice hoarse. “For Aurelia.”
The rest of the journey was silent, save for the hum of the engines and the faint, echoing pulse of their coordinates. The ship moved steadily through the nebula, the thick clouds of dust and gas surrounding them like an endless ocean. And with every passing minute, the weight of their unspoken truth grew heavier—both the mission and the feelings they couldn’t quite define.
Time was running out, and they both knew it.
But Lena couldn’t shake the feeling that they were running toward something even more uncertain than the end of their journey: a future neither of them were ready for.
And yet, it seemed they had no choice but to face it.
