The Cosmifarfallas had searched for centuries for a new home — not where they could live, but where they could die. Without oxygen, these creatures were immortal — their very cells refused to age if they were not in a sufficient setting for mating.
For a millennium, the Cosmifarfalls embraced their freedom, gliding between the glimmering lights and occasionally seeing who could dart faster than a shooting star. Eventually, their adventures got old, yet they did not. The ceaselessly passing time would be painful if pain was something they could feel.
Their new home suited them well, despite its dangers. The earth was covered with flora and resilient, rotting fauna. The Cosmifarfallas kept their distance in the skies after seeing how dangerous the other inhabitants were. Fortunately, they never needed to land — the soft clouds in the sky provided a perfect home for their lightweight, nearly astral bodies.
Only one Cosmifarfalla was ever born on this planet. Their name was Gerald. None of the other now-ancient Cosmifarfallas had any interest in reproducing at this late stage in their lives, even if that’s all their winged form was built for.
Despite their parents’ rather poor recommendations, Gerald always dreamed of visiting the stars themself. Occasionally, they’d try following some of the older Cosmifarfallas who’d dip out of the atmosphere, just to see how it was done. However, the elders always wanted to be left alone, and they’d catch Gerald every time. The elders insisted they weren’t going there because they liked the painlessness but to remember why the pain was so important to feel.
One fateful night, Gerald tried it for themself. The atmosphere pushed against their wings and thin body when they tried to leave, and gravity gripped their antennae with invisible chains, but eventually, they punctured the air until there was none.
The stars greeted the Cosmifarfalla, shining brighter than they’d ever dreamed. There was no sound. Gerald’s crystalline exterior hardened. Their mind drew unnervingly clear.
They flapped their wings up and down, watching them move freely without any friction at all. They checked back on the planet behind them and the bright burning sun behind it, which looked smaller than ever before. The space between the heavenly bodies was awesomely, imperceptibly vast — yet, Gerald remembered, that distance was almost nothing to the wings of a Cosmifarfalla. They darted forward, barely moving their wings to do so. They felt no breeze or friction, but they knew they were flying faster than they’d ever flown back in the clouds. Even so, none of the stars moved with them, holding their position millions of miles away. The sight was beautiful.
Time meant nothing out here. Gerald flipped and dashed and spun until long after their wings grew sore. Exhausted, they wondered how long their parents must have been looking for them by now. They spun their wings to return home, but the image they’d seen before was gone. The nearest star looked light-years away, and the silhouette of their home planet was imperceptible against the sky. They raced back the direction they came, and a great darkness overcame their vision. Like a bug, Gerald slammed and crumbled against a massive, rubber-like surface harder than anything Gerald had ever experienced. They pushed against the surface and rushed into it again and again, feeling their energy bounce back into their body, until their wings eventually snapped. The very sky around their home and its sun had somehow frozen, locking Gerald out and their family in.
Gerald stretched their broken, painless wings as wide as they could against the rubbery surface and stared down at the darkness where their planet once was. They squinted, their evolved eyes usually able to see miles upon miles with the right focus. Through the veil, they glimpsed a distant bright light fluttering about, and a few more around it. Gerald knew what the lights were, and they knew this was the most they’d ever see again.
Gerald stayed at the edge of the captive solar system long after the other Cosmifarfalla died out.