Thirty-Four: Stars
I tried to force myself to write a story, finally settling on starting something with the line:
She missed the stars.
...I wrote three. And none of them start with it.
*
She’d thought the crystalline structures and sharp angles so obviously superior for many years, and had grown to hate them with an even greater certainty after the initial reactions to her taking up shamanism. Now, they were... simply part of an aesthetic which she didn’t happen to prefer for her home. She lacked for nothing, here. She rolled over, stretching an arm across the empty expanse of bed beside her, and sighed softly. Well. Almost nothing.
It was not a city she found particularly romantic (though, to be fair, she hadn’t really found the Exodar to be, either), or at least not in the way she preferred. She loved earth, it was—well, it was grounding. But living beneath it made scarce opportunities for starlight. She sighed again. Sometimes, starlight was overrated. She pulled the blankets snugly around herself, determined to catch a few more hours of sleep, and drifted off wondering when Art would drop by again.
*
Auric leaned back against the tree she was perched in, watching the play of light across the clouds run warm and cold in rosy pinks and slowly deepening violets. They were dispersing, and she hoped idly that they would do so a little bit faster. If she was lucky, it would be a clear night. She glanced down to the dwindling pouch of ammunition at her side. If she was particularly lucky, there would be no wolves. She pitied them a little; they weren’t malicious creatures, just hungry. But, then, the sheep weren’t malicious either, they just needed protecting. And so she was here.
She shifted the weight of the rifle in her hands; it was nearly as tall as she was. Mr. Ailbhe had promised to work on building her a smaller one, and dismissed her mother’s concerns about repaying him for it with a snort and a wave of his hand. “If she’s to be stuck out there, I’d rather see her have the proper tools.” She leaned back, trying to remember all the things he’d told her so far about making use of the gun she had for now, and closed her eyes for a moment.
She was startled to open them into darkness, and she sat up straight, nearly keeling over and falling from where she was nestled in the branches. A quick glance down revealed that the sheep were milling about quietly, and she rubbed at her face as she settled back into place. Stupid. She shook her head, looking up slowly through the branches of the tree as she chided herself. Stupid, stupid, st...
There was a sea of glimmering lights above her head, bits of silver strewn carelessly across a sky like deep blue cloth. It was some time before she realized she’d been holding her breath, and she let it out in a slow hiss. She didn’t feel lucky—she seldom would, really, throughout her life. But for just a little while, she knew she was blessed, and she watched the stars in silence.
*
Essylt flexed her fingers, wincing. She’d been working on the embroidery for the past three days between classes, including several hours spent re-doing some work because a glyph had been out of place. A strand of hair fell in front of her eyes, and she huffed lightly, sending it up and to the side before it fell right back in her way again. She frowned, concentrating on her fingers a moment until they’d numbed enough that she could keep working. It had to be perfect. She glanced to the finished glyph on the small rug laid out before her bed. They both did.
Kaiya woke with a start. “Ess...y,” she mumbled, pulling the blanket up to her chin. Essy was away at school. She wondered who would check under the bed for her now, and... had she heard a thump?
“Ow...”
Kaiya blinked. “Essy?”
“...Kay, why’d you put it under the bed?”
Kaiya leaned over, pulling up sheets and peering upside-down at her sister, who was sprawled across the strange purple rug she’d slid under the bed earlier. “I had to put out the royal one for His Majesty George’s tea party.” It was pink--not a very royal color, unfortunately--but it did have a crown and a scepter on it in glittering, gold-colored thread.
Essy groaned, rubbing at her head.”Right.” She crawled out carefully, past toys and stuffed animals, and Kaiya watched her.
“Essy?”
“Mm?”
“How’re you here?”
Essy opened her mouth, then closed it. “Magic,” she said flatly, and pointed under the bed.
“The rug you sent me?”
“Yeah. I need to go back soon, but I wanted to come see you.”
Kaiya smiled broadly, hopping out of bed and taking Essy’s hand. She lead her over to the window, where most of her stuffed animals were still lining the sill. “Lookit all the stars!”
Essy regarded them with her typical solemnity. “They’re lovely, Kay.”
“Can you see them from Dalaran?”
She shook her head. “Not well. Too much light.”
“Oh.” Kaiya peered outside, then at her sister, then back outside. “Will you come look at them here with me?”
Essy squeezed her hand. “Whenever I can, Kay. I promise.”
