Welcome to Gaia! ::

I can see Astronomer’s Island in the distance. It is a small piece of land and the observatory is rested in the middle. A white dome and a towering spire topped with a lantern shaped viewing room, built in a similar fashion to the one aboard the Capella. About half a mile stretched out between the building and the edge of the island. On the west side was an open meadow with a small pond. To the east, a large tree. Casimir, I assumed, as that is what supposedly makes things…float. Our garden was placed south of the observatory and spanned only a quarter mile out, leaving no room for accidents. And, to the north was a makeshift port for the Capella, into which I gracefully piloted.

When I arrived at Astronomer’s Island, Theo was not waiting for me as he usually does. It was dark, the moon was full, and I could see the nearest city below us glimmering in the distance, alive with activity. I found Theo in the garden, tending to my still suffering Papaver, poppies. Plants, it seemed, were highly susceptible to “Aging,” but my reason for using them usually involved an early demise anyway, so it does not concern me nearly as much as Theo.

He was quite excited that I had returned. I noticed his hair had gotten quite long and he scarcely ran a comb through it these days. White and wild, as was his beard, and bright blue eyes shining in eagerness, Theo reminded me of the wizards depicted in storybooks for children. He was beginning to move slower and required a cane on an occasion. Despite this, he was full of energy and vitality. He led me into the observatory and had me sit in the makeshift living room.

We had not bothered to furnish the observatory, as Theo claimed he wouldn’t be doing much more than stargazing. We had placed an old, wooden coffee table and four crates together in a corner of the observatory that was not covered in piles of books, maps, and pamphlets, and called it the living room. It, too, was covered in various writings and devices. I noticed a compass sitting on the edge of the table. It was similar to my own, other than being copper, though I doubted it could do what mine could.

Despite Theo’s protests, I had, however, acquired for him a decent bed to sleep on. Comfort, I feel, is necessary when one has been diagnosed with “Aging.” The observatory was a quiet, but cluttered. I often asked him if he wished for me to find him company, but he always rejected the offer, settling for the exotic birds and bugs that migrated to the island.

Theo disappears into the viewing room for a short time, so I begin to boiling water for tea and rice. We have very little else that can survive for long up here, but with the herbs and spices we grow or find, the rice can become something magnificent. Of course, it is mostly the herbs and spices that sustain our bodies. Rice is not as nutritious by itself as one would suspect.

The water, however, is like nothing I have seen. It is always fresh and always clean, as no creatures live in it. Our water comes from the pond outside, and a well I myself built. Plumbing, while not my favorite of hobbies, was quite effective in keeping me busy while Theo worked.

What Theo worked on, I could not say.

As the water began to boil, Theo returned holding a bundle of sheets covering…something. I poured some hot water into the jars we used for cups and wrapped some herbs in paper thin sheets, tying off the tops with sewing thread. I then proceeded to place the “teabags” in the hot water, but Theo stopped me.

“Wait a moment, my dear. I want to show you this, first.” He said, kindly. I obeyed and placed the herbs to the side. Theo took his seat on the crate beside me, bones creaking as he sat, “This island is special, my dear. It is home to many creatures. Birds, insects, spiders…” he unwrapped the bundle, “And even stars themselves.”

As he finished his sentence, he pulled a jar, tightly sealed, from the bundle. In it glowed a rock, which floated inside the jar calmly, as if escape was unimportant. I stared at the object, amazed at its beauty and mystery. He handed me the jar and I held it like a child. It was warm, comforting. I looked back up at Theo, who coughed quietly, and smiled.

The star, it seems, does not wish to return to the sky yet. That, or it does not know the way. I find the latter unlikely as I have often nudged the thing towards observing tower placed so strategically in the center of the Capella. Still it lingers aboard, shining like little beacon. I have decided to name it Guide, as it has often led me from my cabin to main deck at nights so I would not fall. A helpful little thing, it is. I imagine I will miss it when it decides to leave.

I found myself debating on whether or not to return to Astronomer’s Island more permanently again. I often wonder whether I should, but side against it, as I must find a way to cure Theo’s disease. He is getting increasingly worse as this Aging takes its toll. During my last visit, he couldn’t remember where he placed his reading glasses, but they were in his hands. Theo has never been so disorganized before. I fear he may not last much longer, so my time is becoming short.

Which brings me to another question. Will I continue my quest if I fail to succeed in curing Theo? He is my oldest friend in the realm, and I wonder if I will even exist beyond Theo’s demise, or, hopefully, cure. Am I simply here to seek out this cure? If I am, then Theo was merely a catalyst to my journey. It implies that my will is not my own. I know this is not true, as the inexistent have more control over themselves than those who do exist. Nothing can control us until we are brought into reality and given a purpose.

Yet, I was not brought into reality. No one dreamed me up, or thoughtfully wondered if I could exist. I forced myself to this side to discover what I no longer wished to wait for. I have given myself purpose here by seeking out a cure for Aging. Am I making myself real? Or am I paving a path for one that exists already?