Chapter One: The Call

It was a rather hot, windy day in Thornbranch, Nevada, a common sight for the small town. Umbrellas and easy-ups speckled the open plains and fields surrounding it, along with the foot-worn sidewalks that acted as its lifelines. Vehicles passing on the road had their wipers going full-speed, working air conditioning to its limit in an effort to beat the heat. Other than that, though, it seemed like a perfectly normal, standard-for-Thornbranch summer day.

That would quickly change.

An eerie, whining whistle split the air, high and haunting, unrelenting. It seemed to intensify with each passing second, and as it continued, a thin beam of pale energy connected heaven and ground, smack-dab in the middle of a meadow where a man had been keeping his horses. Said equines reared and bucked in fear at the enormous, unfamiliar intruder, their bugling neighs and shrill whinnies echoing clear to their owner's front porch as the beam and noise, at long last, retreated.

The man, by the name of Dale Bowreed, had already been running to the meadow to check on his beloved charges when the odd noise began, and at their frenzied cries he hurried even more, concern growing by the minute. At last he reached the meadow, and while a head count and quick once-over proved the herd to be safe and sound, something was quite out of place in the meadow's center.

Where there had once been fertile, green tall grass, there was now a razed circle several yards wide. Burnt into the ground was a bizarre, alien symbol, one that seemed ancient and powerful, despite his personal disbelief in the supernatural. It was what lay on the center of the symbol that caught his attention, however, and he dearly hoped to God that its attention hadn't been caught by him.

••••••••

"Taylor!"

The raven-haired girl straightened her back and angled her baseball cap to better see the silhouette of her father, who had called to her from on the porch. "What is it?"

"Phone call from up the road, a 'Mr. Bowreed'. Says he's found something that matches what you've mentioned on your flyers!"

"Be there in a sec!" she replied, pulling off her sweat-soaked gloves and tossing them onto the bench to her right, having just finished scrubbing out a feeding trough that was to be put in storage. She walked briskly into the house and put the phone to her ear, letting the distraught man on the other end tell her everything he'd seen, on top of giving his address so she could see what remained for herself. Phone tucked between shoulder and head, she gave a reassurance of "I'll be there as quickly as I can, Mr. Bowreed. Keep your horses safe, too." and hung up, scribbling out a note on a flashcard and pinning it to the map on the corkboard before her. All of these weather and crop anomalies are going to fit together to show the big picture soon… I just know it.

••••••••

As they drove to Mr. Bowreed's ranch, Taylor's father, Austin Thistle, looked over to her in inquiry. "What, exactly, are you hoping to find there again?"

"Bowreed says that an actual alien appeared out of the blue in the middle of the meadow where he keeps his horses. Apparently, while that odd noise was making itself plain earlier, a beam of light came out of the sky and struck the meadow's center, vanishing when the noise ended. When he went to check if his horses were okay, there was a huge circle of ground where the grasses were shortened to their roots. On that patch of ground, a bizarre symbol was burnt over the soil, and laying in the symbol's center was the alien he called me about. What's bizarre is that all the recent weather- and crop-based anomalies around here have occurred exactly one mile from a point in his meadow, forming a circle around it. I'm pretty sure it's safe to say that the alien's appearance is strongly connected to the anomalies, and, with any luck, it'll still be there when we arrive."

"And what are you planning to do once we get there, exactly? How do we know this alien won't go berserk on us and attack… if it even is an alien?"

"Dad, I've dealt with grumpy people complaining about the fact that I want to go onto their property and collect data, and some of them didn't speak a hint of English. I'm sure I can calm down an alien whether it speaks English or doesn't. And even if it does…" she reached between the front seats to pat the small bag of things she'd put on the backseat, "… I'm prepared. Why else did you think I picked up those horse tranquilizers from the vet's office?"

Her father sighed in resignation. "All right… but be careful."

Upon entering the ranch, they were greeted by a large sign directing them to the different parts of the property. They turned and headed up the small road leading to the upper meadow, pulling to a stop outside its gate. Slipping inside, they walked over to where Mr. Bowreed stood, gazing down at the site of the newest anomaly. Upon his nodding to signal they could continue forward, they did so… and the alien was there, laying in the middle of the newly-formed circle.

"I'm glad you're here," Mr. Bowreed had said to them. "The cops didn't believe me one bit when I reported this and described it… laughed at me over the phone."

To be honest, Taylor could understand this. Although the alien was currently laying flat on its back, Taylor could tell it would have been seven feet tall, were it standing straight and proud. Metal armor was attached to parts of its body and mingled with its flesh, along with cabling that seemed necessary for channeling energy through its body. Its color scheme consisted primarily of white. silver, and shimmering sky-blue, with accents of black and vivid yellow-green here and there. Its head was hairless, and of an extremely peculiar, difficult-to-describe shape.

Kneeling by its side, she saw that it had a yellow-green crystal in the center of its chest that glowed from within. The light was pulsing, like the light on a Macintosh computer in sleep-mode. Its chest rose and fell steadily, and, holding her hand above its slightly open mouth, she found its breath to be quite chilly. Putting two fingers to the vein in its neck, she found a pulse that seemed odd, but was most likely normal for the alien's kind. She brushed herself off, then, grabbing one of its arms and slinging it over her shoulders, hoisted its weight upwards as best she could. Her father, realizing her intent, walked over and did likewise with the other arm. Together, they carried it back towards their truck, ready to head home.

••••••••

As they reached their own humble ranch, they were greeted with an unwelcome but common sight: the doors of the second barn were wide open, and a rather large horse-blanket was caught on the handle, trailing over the ground by a good deal as the wind moved the door back and forth ever so slightly.

"Snowplow must have gotten out again…" her father muttered, unsurprised.

"Want me to take this guy inside while you track our escapee down?" Taylor asked.

"If it's no bother to you…"

"It isn't." she assured him.

Pulling up in front of their house, he handed her the door-key, and, hoisting their interstellar guest over the gap between the seats, she closed the truck door behind her and began making the short trek to their porch.

Inside, she lay the stranger down on the couch, putting a pillow under his head and a blanket over him. A real alien… How similar can he possibly be to us?

Unable to resist taking some notes, she grabbed a pen and a pad of paper and began writing and sketching. His face is odd, but despite it obviously being metal-based, it seems so much like normal flesh… how is that possible? She gently pried his mouth open and looked inside. His tongue's green, strangely enough. Is there mythril mixed in with its flesh? His gums are grey, as well as the rest of the flesh in his mouth… weird. His teeth are white, like ours… but they feel solid enough to be metal. Other than that, his teeth match those of a perfectly healthy adult human; canines, bicuspids, anything we've got, he's got. Wait… is it really a he? It looks like one… I'll just assume it is…. he is.

She looked up as her dad walked in. "Did you find Snowplow?"

"Yeah, he was just hangin' around the old pond like he always does. Looked like he was trying to race his shadow. All he wants is to race, really, but there's nobody he's willing to let ride him, so he can't. I don't think anyone could ride him. He's just so darned big…"

"Poor guy… he's so reluctant to trust humans after what his old trainer did to him when he refused to behave the way he was told… If only we could've found him sooner!"

"I know… but we can only do what we can do now, and hope for the best."

••••••••

He was dreaming, that much was certain. There was no other way this could be happening… but this dream felt important. It was a vision…

He saw the shape charging towards him, the shrill, bugling cry echoing in the air. The hooves pounded like thunder against the ground, the muscles surging under the pale hide, white blazing in the eyes… and then it stopped. Without thinking, he had raised his hand, and the shape had stopped. It lowered its velvety nose to touch his hand. Perfectly calm… perfectly still.

The shape bowed its neck forward, and, grasping the mane that trailed down its spine, he leapt onto its back. It allowed a soft rope to wind around its head in a bridle, and part of it trailed around to rest in his hands. Leaning forward, he pressed his knees slightly to its sides… and they were away, thinking and acting as one… running as one…. running…running…