The TCOSA Sky-Feasters

"Who created the things that consume life if Gaethara created everything?"

The Aliens of TCOSA

The TCOSA people enjoy keeping their origin stories tidy and well-organized. It is said that Gaethara created all life. Every breath in every lung, from the smallest seedling to the most ferocious war-beast, was hers to give. And maybe it is. Maybe she did attach the first mortal souls to their frail bones, weave rivers into veins, and breathe forests into existence.

However, it is possible taht she did not.

Now all life belongs to Gaethara, according to some whispered tales taht are shared in pubs and by firelight beneath bedrolls. That something else fell into the world while it was young and tender. Something older than her, but nobody is brave enough to say it out loud.

They are not Veilborns. They are neither gods nor demons. Aelvarians, is what they are called.

The term, which translates to "Those Who Step Between," was taken from the old dialect.

They leave behind shells of metallic husks, hollow objects that twitch long after their owners have left, which is why the Hunters refer to them as "Fieldwalkers" because occasionally a harvest goes awry, with stalks bent in illogical spirals. Because labeling something is the greatest method to act as though you understand it, academics refer to them as "extrabiotics."

The priests, though? They don't even call them that. Priests are aware of the consequences of naming an alien.

The Aelvarians are not from here. And that is the only fact. The TCOSA laws are ridiculed by them. They don't breathe, eat, or desire anything. They are constantly hungry, though.

Supporters of Gaethara maintain that these rumors are untrue. They repeat, their lips quivering at the corners, "All life is hers." However, they are unable to respond when questioned about why these creatures don't bleed blood, why their bones gleam like stars, or why their voices sound as though they were coming from beneath the surface of the ocean.

What are the desires of the Aelvarians.

They appear to desire nothing more than to observe at times. They loiter in hospital doorways and stand at the perimeter of battlegrounds. When a Titan trembles in its sleep, when a soldier dies, or when a kid is born, they tilt their weird, star-silver heads. They never step in. All they do is gaze.

And they take--but only occasionally.

In the eastern valleys, a shepherd said that one of his daughters disappeared into a whirlpool of light. A patrol commander described how his fellows were affected and changed forever, their eyes permanently glazed with that same mirrored gleam. According to one hunter, he killed one with fire, but by daylight, the body had vanished, leaving behind nothing but the spiraling ashes from his own boots.

TCOSA has seemed a little...odd in recent seasons. Something unfamiliar, something that creeps rather than hits—not a war, not a famine. First came the shattered harvests in the eastern Vales, the spiraling barley stalks that no storm could account for. Then the soldiers arrived, courageous, iron-willed, and well-trained. They swore they had dreamed of laughing coming from underwater when they awoke from their tents with silver-glazed eyes.

These were once written off as accidents, coincidences, and bad luck that spread like a plague. However, the "bad luck" spread. For days, entire caravans circled the same wooded routes, lost their way on well-known paths. With their compasses spinning and their crews unable to recall the last harbor they had seen, ships found themselves adrift in a clear sky. Without any windows or doors being disturbed, children disappeared from their beds.

By claiming that Gaethara's protection had not diminished, the priests attempted to calm the brewing storm. However, even they murmured about the Aelvarians behind temple doors. Of course, not publicly—not in ink, not in sermons. "Those who step between," was said in passing, in a whispered voice as the candles burnt too low.

Merchants joke that you should blame the Aelvarians if your coin purse disappears. When passion suddenly wanes, lovers curse them.However, there is a genuine terror underlying the jokes. Because bad luck has evolved into a pattern rather than just being bad luck.

Now, every accident is a spiral. The odd mirrored sheen was reflected in every loss. Furthermore, the hidden idea is spreading like rot even if no one acknowledges it:

"What if the Aelvarians are no longer only observing? Could it be that the spiral has already started?"

Are they enemies? Allies? Tests? Nobody is aware. However, their very presence calls into question Gaethara's title. Who created them if she created all life?

Maybe she did. She might be lying.

And maybe, just maybe, the Aelvarians are just returning home, and we are the aliens.

The Calyra

"History bends in the direction of those who can write it. TCOSA is eternal—because we endure All."