Page 35 of Larz

“I believe she will,” I replied, my heart swelling at the thought of Adaline’s future unfolding in this new galaxy—one where her dreams could take flight unburdened by Earth’s gravity.

We sat in silence again until Larz stood and offered me his hand. “Come,” he said simply.

I rose and followed him to the edge of the clearing, where the ground sloped gently upward. We climbed until we reached a plateau that offered an unobstructed view of the heavens. The stars seemed closer here—brighter—as if we could reach out and trace their ancient journeys with our fingertips.

“Back on Earth,” I began, my voice soft but filled with wonder, “we used to imagine what life might be out there—amongst those stars.”

“And now?” Larz prompted.

“Now I’m living one of those imagined lives,” I said, turning to look at him—this extraordinary being who had become my anchor in a sea of change.

“We are living it together,” he corrected me, his voice deep and resonant in the still night air.

My eyes found his and in them, I saw not just my reflection but also that of every human and Zorvian who had found themselves adrift but were now charting a course toward unity.

“Do you ever think about going back?” I asked after a moment—curious despite myself about his attachment to Oumtera compared to this moon we were now tethered to.

Larz considered my question before answering. “Oumtera will always be home,” he admitted. “But home is more than a place—it is where your heart finds peace.”

“And have you found peace?” My breath hitched slightly at the question that felt too big for this moment, yet too important not to ask.

Larz’s gaze returned to the stars, but his hand tightened around mine as if he was grounding himself before answering. “With you—yes.”

Warmth flooded through me—a mixture of relief and joy so intense it almost hurt. “With you too,” I whispered back.

We stood together like that for what felt like an eternity—two figures etched against the night sky—our silence speaking volumes about the trust and love that had grown between us against all odds.

The night deepened around us, but neither of us moved—content just to be in each other’s presence—to watch as one day folded into another beneath an alien sky that no longer felt so foreign.

“It is time,” Larz finally said, his voice pulling me back from my reverie.

“Time for what?” I asked even though part of me already knew—we couldn’t stay here forever, lost in each other when there was so much work to be done—so many bridges yet to build.

“To show Adaline the stars—the true stars of Oumtera.” His words were an echo of earlier conversations—a nod toward the future that lay unwritten before us all.

“Yes,” I agreed as we began our descent back toward camp, where our separate worlds continued their dance toward becoming one. “Let’s show her everything.”

We returned to find Adaline sitting by what remained of the fire—the embers casting shadows across her upturned youthful face, looking at the wonderment at the sky above her. The sky that promised endless possibilities. A sky that waited patiently for her story to unfold within its embrace, just as it had welcomed ours with open arms.