Finally, finally home. I almost see it. I ache, it’s so close. Finally, I’ll leave the sunless sky of the colony ship. Finally, I will know the sky. The real, endless, glorious sky!
Home. It’s a word we use so casually. Like it’s meaningless. Just a syllable for a place we inhabit. But that word is full in a way other words are just shells. Home… do you feel its weight in your mouth? Do you feel how your entire being cries out for it? It’s like when you say it, your heart vibrates at a frequency that no one but you can feel, but it’s a word of yearning and comfort all at once. But we all have that same longing, don’t we? Don’t you?
I’m almost there.
Oh my child, do you see that brightness? Do you hear the music? That music that calls, “Oh, come quickly, come quickly! Run, and do not hold back! Sprint, for there is nothing beyond here, no reason to hold back your strength! Here we are, and we are waiting!”
I’m coming. Soon. Soon!
No. No. I know you don’t know where we’re going. I know you’ve never seen it. Trust me. We colonized so many other places, we forgot. We went out to the stars and found wonders… but there will never be as wondrous a word as home. We found stars the size of our imaginations and worlds greener than envy itself, but here… soon I will be home.
Child. Child. Don’t cry. There are better worlds than these.
You object? Ah. Then your imagination must not be strong enough. Every world we went to… what did we do?
Yes. We destroyed. We conquered. No matter where we went, sin followed, for we cannot outrun ourselves.
But child, home is coming. And our colony there is already built and waiting.
No, we didn’t invent new probes that could plant our houses and hospitals. No, there weren’t previous colonies we’ll move into. This colony was designed… just for you. And built just for you. I don’t know what it looks like, no. Maybe your dwelling will have a library in it. Or maybe doorways to endless adventure. But the colors will be brighter and more than any we’ve found anywhere else.
Who built the new colony? Who built our home?
Oh, child. Haven’t you been told?
Back on Old Earth, so long ago, the Builder of All Things chose to love us, though we would destroy so many of his good, good worlds. Even in our shame, he loved us, and even in our hate, he showed us tenderness. He joined us. Became one of us. And he built us Home. He built it for us… by dying. He was punished for what we did to so many worlds. And his blood… it washed the guilt from our race. From you, my dear, dear child.
And from me.
Even after all I’ve done, I still have a home that awaits.
So soon. Oh! Oh, do you hear it? Do you hear it? The sound of no engines vibrating the deck! The sound of a sky bigger than the sun, the sound of stars brighter than hope itself! Do you hear them?
Oh, Maker! Oh! Your hands! Your feet! You still bear the scars… for me? After all this time, for me, too?
My child? Will you watch after her? Will you wipe her tears away, too? Like you are for me?
Yes. Show me. Show me your wonders! Take me, and I will dance under your sunless sky brighter than snow! For here the Lamb reigns, who bought me with his own blood!
Home is where you are, Maker of All Things!