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Description
I’m an outcast good for nothing, awkward Pembitan. My name’s Jory, and here on Pembit I just don’t fit in. Pembit has a big reputation of being one of the most violent tidally locked planets this side of the galaxy. Me, I like structure and I like order. I like knowing that I can take out the trash without offending my neighbours. I like knowing I won’t have to kill the little old lady I greeted just yesterday, because I guess I just don’t like war either. But I also like waking up with the light streaming outside my window, and spontaneously making the decision to go on a picnic. I like how flying abstracts a school of flying cuttlefish, and I love the imperfect harmony the bark on the Looming trees. I’m an outcast, unclassified; I favour neither side of my world. I can’t remember when I started to not fit in, so perhaps it has been this way since I was born -- and if that is so, perhaps I was destined to live here on the Edge, not quite Darkness and not exactly Light. It’s easier for people who’ve found their Designation, who belong to one side of Pembit alone. As for the unlucky citizens like me, we inhabit a kind of in-between No Man’s Land…since we cannot be classified. I used to think it was hard being left behind. Now, I’m more certain that our people require more than one place to belong because we require variety and change. It’s as if we’re frozen here, half night and half day. But that’s enough musing for the morning. I’ve got something planned for today.
And it ain’t no fancy picnic.

We sit on the Edge, legs dangling over like we actually have a death wish. Nickel glances at me again, and back to the small form on the side of the cliff. He’s nervous, no one ever comes to the Edge willingly unless there’s something in it for them such as claiming a Designation. Which means sacrificing someone – preferably an unclassified – to the Edge. That’s right, this world is a cruel place. In case you didn't know already.

No one comes to the Edge unless they’re stupid, like us. I glance at Nickel, then back to the Edge. Here is the border that separates our Darkness and Light. But it is the ultimatum many unclassifieds have run from their whole lives. We have no place, we belong nowhere and I’ve seen many a friend disappear down into the abyss of the Edge because they felt they had no choices. The crumpled white shape rocks a little, as if it wants to leave here too but I know Nickel and I have a chance to escape if we can just rescue that dragon.
“Jory?”
“If you don’t want to risk yourself, turn back. Now. I’m going down there.”
“How do you know a dragon can help us? Jory, I don’t want to see you go like this. You could-”
“That dragon could be our ticket out of here. And I don’t know about you but I’d rather live without having to fear the ground I tread. Think of it as healthy variety.” I launch off from the ground, wings working to counter the vacuum effect the Edge has. I can breathe easy here, because this is the only place of unclassifieds. We cannot live in other places for long unless we evolve and claim our Designation. Otherwise, we’re tied to the in-between, stuck. Nickel’s catching up now; I knew he couldn’t leave me alone.
“You stupid girl! We could die right now, be swallowed up this very minute! This could be the last time we see Pembit, Jory.” Nothingness shoots past us, the greyness of the rocks seeps into our colour.
“I know. Isn’t that why you’re here, with me? Come, let’s not let Pembit decide our fate.”
“Jory you’re the craziest Pembitan I’ve ever met.”
I took his hand, and we flew deeper into grey oblivion. I didn’t look back; I just kept my eyes on the dragon. I squeezed Nickel’s hand hard to know we weren’t gone yet and kept on flying. The dragon comes into focus now; I can see the ridges of spikes and every scale. Every inch of the dragon shines like a fire opal, fighting away the nothingness. I count the spikes up its neck, over forty. It’s huge. Only now do I second-guess my strength. Can we rescue it? Let alone ourselves now… I’m still alive. Nickel’s hand is chill in mine. The elegant curve of its eyelid moves. And then the dragon opens its eye.

Description
I’m an outcast good for nothing, awkward Pembitan. My name’s Jory, and here on Pembit I just don’t fit in. Pembit has a big reputation of being one of the most violent tidally locked planets this side of the galaxy. Me, I like structure and I like order. I like knowing that I can take out the trash without offending my neighbours. I like knowing I won’t have to kill the little old lady I greeted just yesterday, because I guess I just don’t like war either. But I also like waking up with the light streaming outside my window, and spontaneously making the decision to go on a picnic. I like how flying abstracts a school of flying cuttlefish, and I love the imperfect harmony the bark on the Looming trees. I’m an outcast, unclassified; I favour neither side of my world. I can’t remember when I started to not fit in, so perhaps it has been this way since I was born -- and if that is so, perhaps I was destined to live here on the Edge, not quite Darkness and not exactly Light. It’s easier for people who’ve found their Designation, who belong to one side of Pembit alone. As for the unlucky citizens like me, we inhabit a kind of in-between No Man’s Land…since we cannot be classified. I used to think it was hard being left behind. Now, I’m more certain that our people require more than one place to belong because we require variety and change. It’s as if we’re frozen here, half night and half day. But that’s enough musing for the morning. I’ve got something planned for today.
And it ain’t no fancy picnic.

We sit on the Edge, legs dangling over like we actually have a death wish. Nickel glances at me again, and back to the small form on the side of the cliff. He’s nervous, no one ever comes to the Edge willingly unless there’s something in it for them such as claiming a Designation. Which means sacrificing someone – preferably an unclassified – to the Edge. That’s right, this world is a cruel place. In case you didn't know already.

No one comes to the Edge unless they’re stupid, like us. I glance at Nickel, then back to the Edge. Here is the border that separates our Darkness and Light. But it is the ultimatum many unclassifieds have run from their whole lives. We have no place, we belong nowhere and I’ve seen many a friend disappear down into the abyss of the Edge because they felt they had no choices. The crumpled white shape rocks a little, as if it wants to leave here too but I know Nickel and I have a chance to escape if we can just rescue that dragon.
“Jory?”
“If you don’t want to risk yourself, turn back. Now. I’m going down there.”
“How do you know a dragon can help us? Jory, I don’t want to see you go like this. You could-”
“That dragon could be our ticket out of here. And I don’t know about you but I’d rather live without having to fear the ground I tread. Think of it as healthy variety.” I launch off from the ground, wings working to counter the vacuum effect the Edge has. I can breathe easy here, because this is the only place of unclassifieds. We cannot live in other places for long unless we evolve and claim our Designation. Otherwise, we’re tied to the in-between, stuck. Nickel’s catching up now; I knew he couldn’t leave me alone.
“You stupid girl! We could die right now, be swallowed up this very minute! This could be the last time we see Pembit, Jory.” Nothingness shoots past us, the greyness of the rocks seeps into our colour.
“I know. Isn’t that why you’re here, with me? Come, let’s not let Pembit decide our fate.”
“Jory you’re the craziest Pembitan I’ve ever met.”
I took his hand, and we flew deeper into grey oblivion. I didn’t look back; I just kept my eyes on the dragon. I squeezed Nickel’s hand hard to know we weren’t gone yet and kept on flying. The dragon comes into focus now; I can see the ridges of spikes and every scale. Every inch of the dragon shines like a fire opal, fighting away the nothingness. I count the spikes up its neck, over forty. It’s huge. Only now do I second-guess my strength. Can we rescue it? Let alone ourselves now… I’m still alive. Nickel’s hand is chill in mine. The elegant curve of its eyelid moves. And then the dragon opens its eye.