Starbound to Hypatia

Chapter 3: Marked

Kelcey couldn't sleep no matter how hard she tried. But in all honesty, how could she? Her mind wouldn't shut off with thinking of being taken to another planet with a hansome abnormally tall alien being.

At some point, the ship dimmed its lights—like it understood the concept of night—but every time she closed her eyes, she saw Earth shrinking. Felt the moment the ground disappeared beneath her feet. The moment her life on Earth ended and something else began.

She sat curled against the curved wall of the ship, knees pulled to her chest, staring at the faint glow of the runes along her arm. They hadn't gone away and if anything they were clearer now. More sharp like they were settling into her skin.

“Fantastic,” she muttered. “What the hell is happening to me?”

Across the chamber, Titan stood motionless, facing one of the walls. The symbols there shifted slowly, like a living interface only he could fully understand.

He hadn’t said much since, well, since everything.

Kelcey studied him from a distance. Even still, he was intimidating.

Seven feet tall just broad and solid in a way that made everything around him feel smaller. The glowing runes across his body pulsed faintly now, calmer than before—but still reactive. Still aware and still connected to her, somehow.

She didn’t like that thought.

“Are you going to keep pretending I’m not here,” she called out, her voice cutting through the quiet, “or are you finally going to explain what the hell is happening to me?”

He didn’t turn right away. For a moment, she thought he might ignore her, until he spoke.

“You should rest,” he said.

Kelcey let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, sure. I’ll just take a nap while I’m being slowly turned into… whatever this is.” She held up her arm, the runes glowing faintly in response to her frustration.

That had got his attention and he finally turned. His eyes locked onto the markings on her skin. And something in his expression tightened.

“You are not changing into anything,” he said.

Kelcey raised an eyebrow. “Oh, good. So this is just permanent then?”

“…Yes.”

She stared at him. “Wow. You are just full of comforting information.”

Titan stepped closer, not as fast as before but more deliberate. More measured. Like he was approaching something unpredicatble. Like she was something dangerous.

Kelcey straightened slightly, her pulse picking up despite herself. “Stop doing that,” she said.

“Doing what?”

“Walking toward me like I’m either going to explode or bite you.”

He paused for a moment. “I don't think you'll explode. But you might bite.”

Kelcey blinked. “Rude.”

He stopped a few feet away this time, keeping distance between them. Learning personal space boundaries. Progress.

“I need to examine the markings,” he said.

Kelcey hesitated. Every instinct told her not to trust him. But what choice did she have?

“Fine,” she said, extending her arm slightly. “But if this makes it worse, I’m blaming you.”

“That is acceptable.”

“Good. Glad we’re on the same page.”

He stepped closer. Close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him. Kelcey tried very hard not to think about that and failed.

His hand lifted slowly, hovering just above her skin and the runes reacted instantly getting brighter and flaring.

Kelcey sucked in a breath. “I'ts so strange. The way it feels.”

His fingers brushed her arm lightly and everything shifted. The ship pulsed and the runes along the walls flared in response.

Kelcey gasped. Images flashed behind her eyes. Not quite memories, at least not hers. At first it was endless stars and then burning skies of violet and gold. Towering structures made of light and stone. A planet that looked alive with glowing cities.

Then a voice was heard. It was deep, resonant, and ancient...heir.

Kelcey jerked back, yanking her arm away. “What the hell was that?!”

Titan stepped back immediately, his expression sharper now. “What the hell was what?”

“You did something” she snapped. “I saw—something—some place—”

Her voice faltered. She explained what she had seen.

“Was that your planet?”

He didn’t answer right away. Which, at this point, was basically confirmation.

Kelcey stared at him. “What is going on?” she demanded. “Why am I seeing things when you touch me?”

His jaw tightened slightly. “The runes are not decoration,” he said.

“It didn't take a genius to figure that part out, Titan.”

“They are… identity. Power. Lineage.”

Kelcey blinked. “Lineage?”

His gaze flicked to her arm again. “They are not given lightly.”

A slow, creeping realization began to form in her chest.

“Titan,” she said carefully, “what exactly did I just get myself tied to?”

The silence stretched for what felt like hours before he answered. “You are linked to me.”

The words hit harder than she expected. Kelcey’s stomach dropped. “I’m sorry, what?”

“The bond between you and the vessel is not isolated,” he continued. “It is connected to my command.”

Kelcey stared at him. “Command? Like you’re the pilot?”

“I am more than that.”

Something in his tone shifted. It was subtle but unmistakable. Kelcey narrowed her eyes at him.

“Yeah, I’m getting that vibe. Care to elaborate?”

He hesitated for a second, “I am of the ruling line of Hypatia.”

Kelcey blinked. “The ruling line?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “You mean like... royalty?”

“Yes.”

Kelcey stared at him. Then let out a breath that was half laugh, half disbelief.

“Of course you are,” she said, shaking her head. “Because being kidn*pped by a giant alien wasn’t enough—I had to get kidn*pped by a king.”

“I am the prince and I did not—”

“Kidnap me, yeah, I know, not intentional,” she cut in. “Still counts.”

He didn’t argue this time which was interesting. Kelcey paced a few steps, running her hands through her hair.

“Okay. Okay. Let me get this straight,” she said, turning back to him. “You’re an alien prince. Your spaceship basically glued itself to me. I now have glowing symbols that apparently mean something important. And I can’t leave or I die.”

“Yes. You are linked to not only the ship, but to Hypatia.”

“Fanfuckingtastic.”

She let out a long breath, then looked at him again. “So what does that make me?” she asked.

His gaze lingered on her for a moment. Longer than necessary.

“Unknown.”

Kelcey frowned. “I don’t like that answer.”

“Neither do I.”

That… was not reassuring.

The ship hummed softly around them, almost like it was listening. Always watching and always waiting.

Kelcey crossed her arms. “Well, you’re going to have to figure it out,” she said. “Because I am not just some… passenger in all this.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “No,” he said quietly. “You are not.”

Something in the way he said it made her chest tighten. Not with fear, at least not exactly. But something else. Something she didn't want to name.

Kelcey looked away first. “Great,” she muttered. “Love that for me.”

Silence settled again—but it felt different now, heavy and more charged.

The distance between them wasn’t just physical anymore. It was something else. Something shifting. Something—

Changing.

Kelcey glanced back at him. “So, Your Highness,” she said, unable to resist, “how long until we get to Hypatia?”

His expression didn’t change—but something flickered in his eyes. “Several cycles.”

“That means nothing to me.”

“Days,” he clarified.

Kelcey nodded slowly. “Okay. Cool. Plenty of time to process the fact that my life is officially insane.”

“You may explore the vessel,” Titan said. “It will not harm you.”

Kelcey raised an eyebrow. “Good to know. I’ll add that to the list of things keeping me sane.”

She turned. “Hey,” she said, glancing back at him.

He looked at her.

“If I’m… linked to this thing,” she said, gesturing around them, “does that mean it listens to what I want?”

“Yes.”

A slow smile spread across her face. “Well then,” she said, turning fully toward the walls, “this should be interesting.”

The lights shifted instantly responding to her.

Titan watched her carefully. Something about the way the ship reacted to her—

The way the runes on her skin glowed in sync with it— was not normal.

It wasn't understood. It wasn't safe.

And yet—

He couldn’t look away.