Hearthe

On the gravity of home: A world of weight

I have never stood on a planet. This may seem an odd confession for an archivist of my position, but it is true. I was born aboard the station networks, raised in Temple corridors, appointed to my current role without ever feeling dirt beneath my feet or wind upon my face.

Perhaps this is why Hearthe fascinates me. Perhaps this is why Harrow's memories of the place cut so deeply.

Hearthe was—two thousand years ago—a habitable planet with gravity sufficient to shape its people. Among the tall, thin spacers of the Edge, those born on Hearthe stood shorter but denser. Muscle built under true gravity does not fade easily.

The memories speak of warmth. The sun on skin. The mass of a world pulling at one's feet. Simple things, perhaps, to those who have known them. Extraordinary to those who have not.

Harrow carried these memories with him into the black—not as comfort, I think, but as a measure of what was lost.

The breaking of Hearthe: On the war

Something broke on Hearthe. The engrams speak of "the war" but offer little detail—five years of silence between whatever drove Harrow from his homeworld and his arrival at Drift's Edge.

He "didn't miss the ruin. Not even a little."

The Temple archives reference numerous post-Collapse conflicts. Hearthe may have been caught in any of these. Or perhaps its war was something else entirely.

— NV