The Emperor’s Poppies

In the distant future, when humanity had mastered the art of time travel, there existed a solitary traveler named Altair Grus. He was a wanderer, drifting through the eons, seeking solace in forgotten corners of the universe. His ship, the Chronos, hummed with ancient energy as it slipped through the fabric of spacetime. One day, Altair stumbled upon a peculiar anomaly—an iridescent rift that led not to another era, but to the frozen plains of Pluto. The dwarf planet, once dismissed as insignificant, held secrets beyond imagination. As he stepped onto its icy surface, he felt the weight of forgotten memories—the kind that lingered in the shadows of time. And there, amidst the frozen expanse, Altair discovered the Poppies of Remembrance. These were no ordinary flowers; their petals shimmered like stardust, and their centers glowed with a soft, ethereal light.

Each poppy bore the name of a fallen soul—a soldier, a lover, a dreamer lost to the cosmic winds. Altair decided to stay. He planted row upon row of these celestial poppies, their roots burrowing deep into Pluto’s icy soil. As he tended to them, he noticed their peculiar properties. When touched, they emitted a gentle warmth, like a whispered memory. And when he stood among them, their petals enveloped him in a translucent shroud—a cocoon of time itself. The poppies responded to his emotions. When Altair felt joy, they bloomed in vibrant hues, casting ribbons of rainbows across the barren landscape. But when sorrow gripped his heart, they darkened, their glow dimming as if mourning alongside him. One frosty evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Altair met a fellow traveler—a weary soul named Donati. Her eyes held the weight of centuries, and she carried scars from battles fought in forgotten wars. Donati had lost her elder’s love, Eris, to the tides of time. Her name was etched on a poppy, and its petals clung to her like a spectral veil. They stood together in the poppy field, their fingers brushing against the delicate blooms. Altair shared stories of distant galaxies, and Donati spoke of ancient civilizations crumbling into cosmic dust.

They laughed and wept, their tears absorbed by the ethereal poppies, feeding their otherworldly hunger and bringing nourishment to the fallen of all space and time. As seasons passed, Altair and Donati solidified a strong bond. Their companionship was like the whirlwind of stardust, and their laughter echoed across Pluto’s icy plains. But the time had come as relentless as it went, and Donati’s wounds began to reopen as she adorned Eris’ bloom shimmering amongst the others. Her poppy shroud grew thicker, concealing her features until she resembled a phantom like ghost—a forgotten hero from a forgotten war. One fateful night, Donati whispered, “Altair, my time is ending on this plane for now. Eris awaits me to chaperone her beyond the veil. I will need to guide her back to source so that she can be reassigned.” Her poppy glowed brighter, its petals weaving around her like a spectral embrace. Altair held her, tears freezing on his cheeks. “I’ll remember our time here,” he vowed. “And when my own time comes to show one the way, I’ll join you among the stars.” Donati stepped into the rift, her form dissolving into the cosmic currents. Altair watched, his heart heavy, until she vanished. He remained among the poppies, their glow fading as if mourning her departure. And so, Altair tended to the poppies, his love for Donati woven into their very essence. He waited, knowing that one day, she too would return and no longer be a memory—a traveler lost to eternity’s journey. And when the time came, he hoped to find Donati again, their poppy-shrouded forms reunited among the constellations, whispering stories of love, smiling with devotion to service, and sacrifice to the cosmos. And so it was, in the quietude of Pluto’s poppy field, that Altair Grus became a legend—a time traveler who tended to the fallen, his heart forever entwined with the luminous blooms.