It will all be over soon

Askid slithered across the cracked terrain that typified planet Radynon, the glowing tendrils protruding from his prehensile scales slicing through the dried ground and his undulations gouging a permanent trail which the lesser beings of Radynon would sooner or later turn into a road. In the distance, Askid saw his eighteen parents, all early (of course) and each at the end of a lesser but nevertheless impressive gouge in the earth of their own. Beyond them he could just see his sister, Sepaj, as she made her own approach.

Sepaj's undulation trail was bigger.

Askid let out a mournful whine from his secondary eye that sent shockwaves through the dense, toxic blend of sulfur hexafluoride, ammonia, methane, and Radynium particles that bathed the air in a bioluminescent haze.

He hated family gatherings.

He glanced back the way he'd come and wondered yet again if ritual consumption by the elders was really worse than enduring the compulsory Feast of Radynon alongside Sepaj and her stupid ascended Eosa feathers. He softly emitted a series of chirps that were indecipherable to most creatures across the multiverse but that nevertheless conveyed a feeling that many had felt at one time or another when faced with a painful family obligation:

It will all be over soon.

He slithered closer, and the parents began bowing and chirping obsequiously. Askid thanked the Spirit of Radynon profusely for a small family. Eighteen parents were, at least, manageable.

And there would only be seventeen of them, after today.

Askid brightened at the thought and began to slither a little faster. There were some fun traditions, even if the overall event was an exercise in futility.

A moment later, Sepaj joined the group, flicking her tail irritably at the parents as they writhed around her, each vying for a chance to touch her Eosa.

Sepaj's primary eyes landed on Askid. She inclined her head for the briefest moment, acknowledging, as was expected, that yes, she had a sibling, and it was there, but declining to communicate. Which was fine by Askid. The less they spoke, the sooner they would be done with this farce.

Sepaj coiled the majority of her body in a neat circle, raising her head higher and higher in the air and fixing her gaze upon the distant horizon. As the youngest sibling, she had all the responsibility, another blessing. The primary eyes on each side of her head slowly closed, cutting off the glowing blue light that had bathed the writhing parents below. Her central eye opened wider and pulsated as it sent invisible soundwaves across the terrain, searching for another Radynon family with which to perform the exchange.

The tertiary eyes at the top of her head and and shining forth from each of the ten orange and teal Eosa feathers that fanned out from the base of her skull were all fixed on Askid, waiting, no doubt, for him to forget an important step or embarrass himself some other way.

Did they really have to do this every two-and-a-half sub-lunar cycles? Was it strictly necessary to revere Radynon this much?

An answering pulse rattled across the horizon, and Askid straightened, coiling his own body in readiness. Across the shriveled dirt a parent from another family wound its way excitedly toward them, sporting brown, eye-less feathers around its head, as all parents did. Unlike Askid's parents, this parent's scales were all reds and greens, rather than oranges and teals.

A lesser family. Askid glanced nervously at Sepaj, fearing that his sister would delay things on principle, but after a pause she let out an eye splitting shriek and dove forward.

It was the youngest sibling's right to take the first bite.

The red-and-green parent gave out a truncated cry of enjoyment as Sepaj ripped its head off. Askid favored the tail end, and the moment Sepaj slithered back he dove forth and snapped it off, swallowing it in one bite. Then, seventeen parents swarmed the corpse.

The eighteenth waited on one side.

Askid had no idea how the parents decided which of them would be sacrificed next. He just assumed that they would figure it out between themselves.

After a suitably dramatic pause, Sepaj flicked her head, and the eighteenth parent darted back along the undulation track left by the red-and-green parent, quivering with excitement at the thought of its own consumption.

How embarrassing they were in their enthusiasm to die. Askid wondered if there were any Radynon's out there who had parents who behaved with more decorum.

Probably not.

Next was Sepaj's speech, to which Askid would be required to respond appropriately and at the correct moments, which sadly meant he had to listen to to the splurge of nonsense that was about to sputter forth.

As he did every feast, Askid prayed to the God Radynon to spare him the indignity of having all of his flaws called out and compared to Sepaj's successes.

Unlike every feast, this time Radynon obliged.

Before Sepaj could begin, a faint sound that was swallowed by the planet's atmosphere thudded dully into Askid's tertiary eyes. Accompanying the noise was the appearance of a. . .thing.

Head on one side, Askid surveyed the strange structure critically. His mind offered the word "portal" for consideration, but he rejected it immediately. For one thing it was tiny, only as high as half the width of Askid's body. It was also the wrong shape, rectangular, little more than four lines, the shorter two of which touched the ground and capped the top of the structure respectively. It was an odd brown color, and already it was beginning to decay in the unforgiven atmosphere of Radynon. About halfway up on one side was a small, silvery lever.

Askid bent his head closer.

The structure shook, and a small banging sound emitted from the other side.

Except that Askid could see what was behind the structure, and nothing was there.

The structure shuddered again, and then again. The sound came from the base of the structure, insistently, as if something was trying to get through.

Sepaj and Askid exchanged a glance, united, briefly, in their shared confusion.

Then, the silver lever slowly moved, downward, and the inner portion of the structure slowly swung out into Radynon.

A small, circular black disk clattered through the doorway, turned one way and then the other with a cheerful whirr, and then rattled forward, apparently doing its utmost to suck up the dirt of Radynon itself. It was tiny, only a few inches high and already beginning to melt. It's tiny, archaic wheels were no match for the landscape and its sucking mechanism became clogged almost immediately.

The blue light atop the disk blinked once, and then faded. The device whirred to a halt.

Askid lowered his head to get a better look, which brought his primary eyes in line with what, after all, was a portal.

Standing across the threshold in an artificially lit box cluttered with strange objects stood a tiny being, not quite half the height of the portal itself. It stood on two legs, with two other apparently useless limbs hanging at it's side. Pathetically small feathers protruded from it's head above two solitary, unremarkable eyes that in turn were set above a small mouth that gaped, as if the being was considering unhinging its jaw to strike.

Silently, the tiny being raised one if its dangling limbs and pointed it in Askid's direction. It took a deep breath, but before it could do anything else, the mysterious portal vanished.

After a moment of silence, Sepaj did what she always did when faced with things, like the black disk, that she didn't understand.

She ate it.

---------------------------------------

"For the last time, Kevin, what did you do with the Roomba?" Mom bellowed, indifferent, for a moment anyway, to what their guests would think of her outburst.

"Mom, you're not listening," whined Kevin. "You know that door on Roomba's map that isn't actually there but that he always tries to go through anyway? It was there, Mom! I swear, it was there! And I let Roomba through, and there was this giant snake thing, and--"

"Enough, Kevin," Mom said. Now her voice was soft, but Kevin knew to fear the soft voice more than the loud one because it meant that she was really mad. "We'll deal with this later."

Kevin gave out a frustrated sigh, but didn't struggle as Mom forced him into the chunky, scratchy sweater Grandma has arrived with. Like always.

Christmas had its fun moments, but there was so much peripheral stupidity that the presents were almost not worth the effort.

Almost.

As Mom dragged Kevin passed the stairs for the obligatory where's-my-grandson-my-how-you've-grown-do-you-ever-brush-your-hair onslaught they passed Penelope on the stairs, looking absolutely adorable in her perfectly fitting sweater and garish Christmas dress.

When she was sure that mom wasn't looking, Penelope stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes.

Sisters were the absolute worst.

"Smile," hissed mom, as she plastered a grin on her own face and pushed Kevin through the door for his dignity to be ripped to shreds by The Relatives.

Kevin glanced at the presents, held back deliberately until 'the children' had managed to successfully make their way through the Christmas meal and associated traditions. He gave a resigned sigh, took a deep breath and whispered, "It will all be over soon."