Adamina
How could I be so blind? I promised myself long ago that I wouldn’t trust anyone, yet here I am, letting my guard down. The loneliness, it seems, has clouded my judgment far more than I realized.
As Enok and his friend, Titus, converse in hushed tones, a swell of fear rises within me. With two of them here now, the dynamic has shifted—what will happen if more arrive? Can I trust them not to harm me?
Titus, the one with blond curls, could be mistaken for a classical statue, chiseled from stone, his golden-to-green irises scrutinizing me with an intensity that sets me on edge. His gaze is nothing like Enok’s, which always felt curious yet gentle. Titus looks at me as though he’s assessing a situation to dominate, his stature imposing in the uniform he shares with Enok.
My instinct to flee kicks in as they briefly divert their attention. Heart pounding, I seize the moment to escape, running back to the only safe haven I’ve known—my home. But just as my fingers graze the door handle, strong arms envelop me from behind. I lash out, panic setting in, until I hear Enok’s voice.
“Adamina! Ndim ukhuselekile sithandwa mfaz,” he whispers soothingly, his grasp both firm and gentle. Recognizing the safety in his presence, my heartbeat slowly steadies.
“Ndicela wehlise umoya. Andizukulimaza sithandwa. Awuboni na?” His words are foreign but his tone is unmistakable. The little smartwatch he wears translates his assurances: “I will always protect you.”
Relief flickers across Enok’s face as he taps the device, syncing it to mine. We now each wear an earpiece, a technological bridge between our worlds.
“Is the translation correct?” he asks, his voice clear in my ear for the first time.
As the full weight of his native tongue hits me before the translation kicks in, butterflies erupt in my stomach. It’s a strange and exhilarating feeling to hear the alien cadences turn into understandable language.
“Titus is a trusted friend. He won’t hurt you,” Enok continues, trying to assuage my fears.
Yet, when Titus suggests contacting their fleet, my anxiety spikes. “Will more of you come here?”
“No, not yet. Titus has promised to buy us some time,” Enok replies, noting my apprehension.
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“I don’t understand… Time for what?” The uncertainty in my voice is palpable.
“It’s time for me to explain what is about to happen,” he says with a heavy sigh, leading us back inside.
Inside, the atmosphere shifts as Titus starts a fire and I begin to prepare dinner. The domesticity of the scene feels surreal against the backdrop of my fears. When Enok tries to help by slicing bread, his strength almost crushes it.
“Gently, Big Guy. There won’t be any left to eat if you crush it all,” I laugh, easing the tension for a moment.
He grins, a surprisingly boyish expression on his rugged face. “Big Guy? I am considered normal size on my planet. It’s not my fault you’re so tiny, or that your food is easily crushed.”
His words prompt a startled laugh from me, but it’s cut short as the reality of his origins dawns anew. “Your planet?” I echo, incredulous.
Titus stokes the fire, adding, “Here we go...”
“Yes. My planet, Amazulu,” Enok confirms, and my laughter turns hysterical. The idea of him being an alien—a real alien from another world—threatens to overwhelm me.
“You must’ve suspected... We’re not from...” Titus trails off, struggling for the right words.
“Earth,” I finish for him. “I thought maybe Russian, but this...”
My breathing becomes labored as I process the implications. Enok’s arms wrap around me once more, grounding me. “If she can’t handle this, how will she take the rest of your news?” Titus remarks, but Enok ignores him, focusing on calming me.
Later, as we sit by the fire, I find myself missing the warmth of Enok’s touch. His affection has become a comfort in my solitude, his gestures—hugs, caresses, reassuring squeezes—filling a void I hadn’t fully acknowledged.
“So, what is Amazulu like?” I ask, voice weary yet curious.
Enok’s response is tinged with sadness. “Our crowned prince leads us. We, his soldiers, are tasked with finding compatible mates to ensure our survival.”
“Compatible... so you were looking for me?” The thought sends a chill down my spine, mingled with an unfamiliar warmth.
“On Amazulu, there are only males left. We seek females to join us willingly, to form bonds and families,” he explains earnestly, but his next words stop my heart.
“No one will be taken against their will. The prince values genuine connections.”
My relief is palpable, yet questions linger. “Where are your females?”
A shadow passes over Enok’s face. “I can’t speak of it,” he murmurs, the pain in his voice echoing around the quiet room.
Titus interjects, “A sickness took them. All of them. It left us behind, turning grief into a quest across the stars.”
The enormity of their loss weighs heavily in the room, mirroring the losses I’ve endured here on Earth.
“Have you found others?” I ask, fearing the answer.
“Just you,” he admits, and I’m left wondering about the role fate has cast me into—not just for my safety, but for the potential future of an entire world.