Vilorian Sunrise: Head Without a Crown

Vilorian Sunrise

Head Without a Crown

E.M. Popal

Copyright 2011 by E.M. Popal

Smashwords Edition

Second Edition

Chapter One:

A Hard Landing

The atmosphere of the super-Earth pressed in around the descending spacecraft, a cacophony of gushing winds and alien sounds resonating with every tremor. Vibrations passed through the craft, and Captain Dorian clutched his restraints, each jolt sending his heart racing faster. As the ground approached, he forced himself to conjure up visions of triumphant homecomings, of streets lined with cheering multitudes and statues erected in his honor. Against the odds, he had found a new refuge for humanity.

The vessel made its final touchdown with a resonating thud, dust and unfamiliar flora rippling out from its landing site near an expansive, shimmering coastline. Gathering himself, Captain Dorian released the safety harness and reached for his exploration gear. The layers of his suit felt bulky, but they were his only protection in this uncharted world. Emerging from the vessel's shadow, he was greeted by a mesmerizing sunset, its dark orange hues painting the horizon, a poignant reminder of the red dwarf that illuminated this super-Earth. Unlike the blinding sun of home, this star bathed him in a gentle, amber glow.

Tearing his gaze away from the celestial beauty, Captain Dorian unholstered his atmospheric sensors. They immediately began to relay data, showing an oxygen level markedly higher than Earth's. But there was an anomaly: a mysterious substance comprising five percent of the atmosphere, something the sensors, nor human knowledge, had ever detected. He whimsically thought of naming it ether. With a mixture of curiosity and reckless abandon that had defined his career, Dorian unhinged his helmet's latch and inhaled deeply. The air, rich and tinged with an exotic scent, felt like a balm after being confined for decades in sterile, recycled environments.

Eager to acquaint himself further with the world's mysteries, Dorian peeled off the confines of his spacesuit, opting for attire more suited to exploration. But as he moved, an odd sensation took him. Despite the greater gravitational pull of this super-Earth, his movements felt effortless, almost ethereal.

With every step, Dorian felt lighter, as if the very planet conspired to rejuvenate him. The red dwarf's gentle warmth seemed to breathe life into his muscles, urging him to test the limits of his newfound vitality. Not far off, the silhouette of a colossal log lay sprawled across the alien shore, resting beneath trees with fronds that resembled earthly palms, yet held a more otherworldly allure.

Drawing closer, he bent to grasp one end of the log, expecting resistance, but it yielded effortlessly. Almost weightless in his grip, he hurled the log away in a playful show of strength. But his delight soon turned to horror. The log arced through the air, crashing into the capsule that had borne him to this world, toppling it with a resounding thud. It lay on its side, vulnerable and exposed. With a sinking heart, Dorian imagined the call to mission control, explaining the havoc wrought by his momentary carelessness.

Within the ship's hull, chaos reigned. The pressurized chamber lay agape, its contents strewn about. Among the debris, his precious rations lay pulverized beneath the weight of a coolant device. Well, he murmured with a wry grin, No use crying over crushed meals and spilled dreams. The search for sustenance became his next priority. If the lush flora was any indication, this world held promises of sustenance not dissimilar from Earth. Verdant canopies above, dark green grassy expanses beneath, and the beaches glowed with a unique soft, white-orange hue.

However, what truly stole his breath was the winged apparition soaring above. A creature, evoking memories of mythical beasts and online gaming adventures from his youth, blazed across the sky. Its majestic wings flapped slowly, its body casting immense shadows below, and from its gaping maw burst forth flames of the purest red. By the stars... Dorian gasped, ...what is that? Every sense screamed danger, but the sheer awe of witnessing such a spectacle rooted him to the spot.

Drawing the stark conclusion that parading on the open beach was akin to painting a target on his back, Captain Dorian promptly re-evaluated his prior assessments of the planet. It was teeming with life, that much was evident. But was it friendly or hostile? He could ill afford to underestimate his new surroundings again. His objective shifted – seek shelter, find sustenance. Ahead, a hill draped in verdant foliage beckoned, promising a vantage point from which he might survey this new world.

The trek was unnerving. Every rustle of the underbrush, every flit of shadow in his periphery, kept him on edge. Vibrant insects, some luminous and others bearing multifaceted patterns, buzzed past. Creatures, neither entirely reptilian nor mammalian, darted through the foliage. Dorian had to tread with caution, for in this alien land, he could not discern friend from foe, venomous from benign.

His senses were on high alert, so when an ominous rustling sounded closer than the rest, he tensed. As he approached, a hulking beast, reminiscent of a boar yet more grotesque, lunged from the underbrush. Before Dorian could react, the sharp, serrated tusk of the beast buried itself into his thigh. A pain so intense washed over him, evoking a guttural scream that echoed throughout the alien forest. Rage and adrenaline coursed through his veins, and with a might he hadn’t known he possessed, he swung at the creature. But instead of merely repelling it, his fist penetrated the creature's hide and tissue, tearing through its body as though it were made of the softest meringue.

Dumbfounded by his own strength and the creature's vulnerability, Dorian quickly assessed the damage to his leg. The tusk, slick with his own blood, required careful extraction. Pain flared afresh as he worked it free. Tearing a makeshift bandage from his pants, he stemmed the bleeding, hoping the wound wouldn’t become a gateway for some unknown alien infection.

Dorian, mustering what strength he had left, weighed his options. The ship, with its medical supplies, was too distant for his wounded state, but the looming hill beckoned. The creature's carcass, surprisingly lightweight, dangled from his grip. Eyeing it, he mused with a wry smile, Let's hope your flavor surpasses your looks.

The ascent, however, tested his endurance. The weight of his injury and the toll of the planet’s unfamiliar atmosphere grew heavier with each step. But the cold was creeping in, and he knew he needed shelter. A shadowed cleft in the hillside, reminiscent of a cave, provided hope. This rocky alcove, protected from the elements and hidden from potential predators, seemed an ideal refuge.

The fire was a testament to his newfound vigor. Two sizable logs in Dorian’s hands generated a friction akin to two mere twigs on Earth. Soon, flames danced, casting an eerie, shifting glow across the cave walls. Suspicion warred with hunger as he eyed the alien meat. After hours over the flames, its aroma, both strange and tantalizing, coaxed him to slice into it with his ever-reliable Swiss army knife. The first bite was a revelation—rich, with an unexpected hint of familiar spices, yet altogether unique, a flavor birthed from a world light-years from home.

But as the warmth of the meal settled in him, the sharp sting of his wound reminded Dorian of the risks of alien germs. Grimacing, he took a burning branch, its tip blazing brightly. Steeling himself, he cauterized the wound, every fiber of his being roaring in pain, every curse known to man escaping his lips. It was a brutal, primal act of survival in an unknown world.

In the shroud of night, Dorian's keen eyes strained to discern the horizon. Silhouetted against the inky backdrop, a towering castle stood, flames crowning its parapets like fiery serpents. By what hand was this wrought? he wondered. The structure was a testament to intelligent design, yet the distance and his own injuries rendered it unreachable for now. As he glanced down, he pondered over the paradox of his strength and vulnerability. Am I Hercules with the skin of a mortal? He mused, considering the mysterious elixir of this alien world—was it the air that lent him strength, the subtle touch of radiation from the red dwarf, or some latent force yet uncovered?

Memories from a world far removed flooded him. A Californian sun, casting its golden hue on the suburban streets, the laughter of his parents, the mirthful shouts of childhood friends. Then there were the countless others, faces blurred by time yet retaining their humanity. A sense of isolation gripped him. Would he ever hear another human voice? This voyage, a monumental leap into the unknown, was his choosing. A valiant Explorer, as anointed by NASA, he was among the twenty trailblazers destined for one-way journeys to the stars. The beacon in his ship was his promise, a call to future settlers if this world proved worthy. While the passage of four decades had left him untouched, thanks to the stasis of his hyperbolic chamber, the Earth he once knew had moved on. Loved ones would have aged, some would have passed, and many might have forgotten his name. Yet, with a deep breath, he recalled his purpose: he was a beacon of hope, a pioneer forging humanity's path across the cosmos.

Chapter Two:

A Castle in Alien Skies

The gentle caress of an alien dawn roused Dorian from his slumber, the susurration of the breeze whispering tales of otherworldly realms. The star—a molten orb of dusky orange—bathed the land in its rejuvenating warmth. It wasn't merely the soft light that soothed him; it felt as nourishing as a feast from his home world, a hearty omelette paired with freshly squeezed juice from the sweetest of Earth's oranges. With the renewed energy coursing through his veins, he clambered to his feet, his gaze instinctively drawn to the castle he'd glimpsed in the twilight.

Illuminated now in full clarity, the castle's majestic stone walls sprawled out at the base of an imposing mountain. Above it, a cascading waterfall spilled its contents, giving life to the river that flowed beneath the castle's fortified walls. Its architecture was reminiscent of Earth’s medieval fortresses, complete with battlements that whispered tales of sieges past and arrow slits that bore silent witness to history's archers. Dominating the skyline, the central tower, regal and commanding, reached skyward. Its design suggested it to be the domicile of this realm's ruler—a vast circular edifice crowned by a platform, each corner marked by imposing spires. Curiosity gripped him; what manner of beings might reside within those walls? Were they akin to the fantastical green-skinned creatures of Earth’s cinema, beings birthed from tales of Martian invasions?

Surveying the valley, Dorian's eyes settled on clusters of settlements, each bearing its own unique tale. The nearest, reminiscent of a quaint English hamlet, lay nestled amongst rolling hills. Rough-hewn stone walls and thatched roofs painted a scene so familiar, yet wholly out of place in this alien world. Perhaps three days' journey on foot, he mused, vowing to venture there once his injury mended. Pulling himself towards the remnants of his recent meal, he carved a portion of the boar. To his delight, its flavors remained undiminished, an unexpected treat in this foreign terrain. Time, however, brought another surprise. Upon inspecting his bandage, the grievous wound appeared markedly diminished, the flesh sealed and scarring, though the underlying ache persisted. Mystified by his rapid recovery, Dorian decided to grant himself one more day of respite before stepping into the unknown.

Perched on the crest of his vantage point, Dorian drank in the sprawling panorama of the valley below. As the hours ebbed away, the shadow of a gargantuan flying creature occasionally broke the serenity, its vast wingspan larger than any avian creature of Earth. Each time, his pulse quickened and instinct forced him to seek refuge. The nightmarish image from yesterday—be it dragon, ancient reptilian, or something even more sinister—lingered in his mind. He was unprepared to meet such a fate in the jaws of an airborne behemoth.

His gaze often returned to the enigmatic castle. Even with his keen eyesight, the distance obscured its finer details, leaving him to imagine its inhabitants. He yearned for the magnifying reach of binoculars. He grappled with how to introduce himself to this world's denizens. Would a simple, Greetings from Earth, suffice? Or would the revelation that