So I was the Star of Mercy, and Starry Knight was the Star of Justice, and we’d been friends, apparently argumentative friends, on the other side of Time before I’d fallen—before we’d fallen.
“I guess you’re right.” I laughed a bit. “I wish I’d brought a notebook. I’m not going to remember everything you tell me.”
“Learning is part of my power, as is healing,” Alora said. At my raised eyebrows, she explained, “Yes, very similar to Lady Justice’s power; after all, justice can easily bring healing after the cause of pain has been righteously judged and condemned, whereas time can distance a person from the hurt and help them see it in a new perspective.”
Silently, I agreed, but I suddenly wondered exactly how much Alora knew of the situation between Starry Knight and myself.
“Love, too, can heal all, of course, but time and justice are different elements involved in the worlds under my care. Of course, you know about that, since your own transformation . . . ”
Still worrying about feeling awkward about Starry Knight, I tried not to lose focus, looking around at the awesome sights around me, every few minutes I had to talk myself out of thinking this was a dream.
“You are not just here to learn, of course, even though that is my primary role in this matter. If you’re ready, I would like to ask you some questions.”
It was at the idea of questions that I forced myself to pay attention. “Sure. That only seems fair, since I’m going to be asking you a lot of questions, too.”
Alora smiled. “I’m not after information so much as a confirmation.” The pool behind me glittered, transforming from a celestial sky into a globe of cerulean mist as Alora continued. “Are you committed to the choice you have made, in regards to being a Starlight Warrior of the First Light under the Prince?”
“Yes.” Of course I am. I wouldn’t be here otherwise. “Why so many questions about my commitment?” I wondered if it was a reflection of my past choices.
“On Earth, you’ll find people don’t need to be taught so often as reminded,” Alora explained. “And time will test the endurance of your commitment.” Her voice softened. “It is not a question to shame you.”
“Okay.” I tried to let it go.
“All right. If you are ready, step into the pool behind you.”
I turned and saw the swirling, clear blue orb. I was confused, but seeing the look on Alora’s face, I shrugged. It wouldn’t be the first stupid-looking thing I’ve done for my duty. “What’s this for?”
“It is in this pool where the heart of my power resides,” Alora explained. “But it is also a portal to the other side, as St. Brendan might have mentioned to you earlier. You have many questions. It is my duty to give you answers, and here is where you will find the first ones.”
“So I’ll get some answers?” I half-wondered if they would come up in alphabet soup letters.
“Yes. But I must warn you,” Alora said, “You might not like what you find.”
“I’m not afraid.” I dismissed her warning, having heard it before so many times in different video games and movies. If there was something worse than not knowing, I was more than ready to find it; I was tired of being passive with my supernatural self. My palms pushed against the surface, and, before I could say anything else, I felt myself pulled in by a rush of swirling power.
☼13☼
Submergence
The water pressed into me from all around. I opened my mouth and felt myself attempt to scream. Quickly, I realized that was probably not the best idea, and I briefly wondered if I had come all this way just to drown.
But before I could fight my way back to the edge, the water surrounding me transformed into a staggeringly bright light, no longer pressing into me, but shining through me, filling my heart, my eyes, and every inch of my being. I felt the heartbeat behind the starlight, resonating with the rhythm of my own, and a beat pulsated all around and through me.
I saw Eternity open up before me, and I felt the last remnants of Time fall away; life was in every breath, freedom surrounding every molecule, and goodness permeating the fabric of time and space and all the other dimensions. Gravity had a relative effect on my physical body, almost like I was giving it out, rather than being drawn in.
I felt a spirit of wisdom flutter by and understanding playfully whirl around me.
Faces began to form, light upon light in my bubble, and names came with them. I saw Alora, and Aleia, and even Adonaias, reigning above all. I saw millions of others, some Reborn, like St. Brendan, and starlings and souls and all of the beauty of creation, wearing robes of crimson and silver and gold. White flames of fire burned inside of my hands as the cool warmth washed over me.
And then I saw her.
It was my Lady Justice, in all the glories of my pre-fallen memory, as she played her harp, her face undaunted by the shadows I’d come to be familiar with on her fallen form. My heart nearly broke; my first question had been answered.
I was in love with her.
The truth hit me hard. In a world where there was no chance at covering up truth, and there was no bravado and no need to hide from vulnerability, I couldn’t hide it or deny my feelings.
It was still a surprise, even as it wasn’t a surprise.
I tried calling out to her. But her name was a voiceless whisper on my lips.
I don’t remember her name. But why? I wondered.
As I watched, a figure came up to me, one I didn’t recognize immediately. He gave me a cup full of water, offering it to me to drink. As I looked on at Lady Justice, my hands seemed to work of their own accord and I drank from the cup.
A wave of burned fuzziness swept through me as the last of my body passed away into fire.
The pristine white flame around me dulled into a red spark, as I felt empty pressure slam against me. Fire turned black and painful, as I was stripped of all my pre-fallen glory. My Starsoul began to dissolve, speck by speck; the skin dressing my inner being hardened as it chipped away, tossed to nothingness in the torrent atmosphere. My Soulfire remained, giving off a dark light.
My memory was washing itself away. I saw Lady Justice fall apart, her music no longer playing. I felt my soul start to collapse inside and I saw her light drawing me in, even as my own heart condensed down to a point of singularity.
“Come back!” I called, trying to push against the invisible darkness of the void. All light dispersed, as every dark speck from inside me was left in its place, and a solid emptiness wrapped itself inside of me, pulling me into a life that stopped at the edge of myself.
All the fire inside of me launched out, calling for love, but to no avail. The void smothered me, leaving me with nothing but the warm remnants of a blood-colored flame.
The emptiness of nothingness consumed me, burning me, leaving me alone in silence with only endless agony, loneliness, and shame. I knew I deserved it, I knew it was over. There was nothing I could do. I collapsed into dust and debris, piled up and crushed beneath the foot of righteousness.
“Let there be light.”
The familiar voice called out into the darkness, and I saw my Soulfire, darkened with guilt and pain, reduced to ashes, suddenly blaze with new light. It wasn’t my Starsoul that encompassed my soul, and that sheltered me beneath the wings of providence.
Before I could ask, in a split second, I felt the earthiness of my human life formed, and I felt the world form underneath me as I returned to it.
I saw new faces; faces of my childhood, my life, and others. I saw my body formed from gathering the dust of the earth, the power of Eternity pressed into the core of my heart and soul, and the brightness of my origin congealed into my blood. The music faded, the voice of truth faded, and the Starsoul changed, adding in my own life’s light, melding into my own soul.
My memory was buried in the dirty world of fallen humanity. I watched it all build up again, from the particles of a Star’s remaining nothingness. I felt sadness burrow into me, hopelessness engulf me. Paralyze
d, I saw only the emptiness of the universe and creation, as I was stripped of my sight.
Gradually, I began to move again, my soul still crying out for love, even as it was unable to see it guiding my steps.
Somewhere in my heart, I felt that tiny pulsing, reminding me of Adonaias’ promise. I’d been forgiven.
A shadow burned against the darkness—a small orb of darkness entrapping the light.
The meteorite.
It burst open, and the Seven Deadly Sinisters poured out, supported only by a fallen Orpheus. When they crystalized over, he wept, but only at the sight of the meteorite.
A spark of fire in the distance beckoned back to me.
And then I felt the dreariness, the weariness, the sleepiness, and the slumbering as it began to peel away from me, allowing the music to come through, unhindered and clear; I could hear the awakening in my soul as it answered before it was even asked, calling me back.
All at once, the darkness and images were gone, as only fire came through, the blood-colored flame from my Soulfire bursting free and submerging me once more in perfect light.
And then it was over. I felt the water swirl around me again, and I heard Adonaias say to me, same as it had been before, with more of a question behind it: “Command me.”
I answered back the same as I had before. “Give me wisdom and courage and the strength to follow where you lead me.”
Fear left me and peace descended around me. What I thought were angels of all sorts began surrounding me, and then I slipped away, being pulled back to the pool.
As I opened my eyes, I could hear a spirited, voiceless whisper from inside the black hole of my recreated, resurrected heart:
“Do not be afraid. Here I am.”
The water relaxed me, and I felt it release me. Before I knew it, Alora reached out a hand, and I took it, wondering at how solid she felt. I felt myself crawl out of the pool in the heart of the Star of Time, and there was no doubt in my mind aliens were not a strong enough argument.
Glimpses of eternity, the ravages of transgression and time, and the burden of humanity—all living inside of me—was too much.
“How do you feel?” Alora asked.
“Like I need a nap,” I murmured, still shaken and stilled, all at the same time.
“Then sleep. You have time, here,” Alora reminded me kindly. “The consecration is over, and you should rest now.”
I must’ve agreed. My eyes closed, too exhausted to dream.
☼14☼
Draco
I found myself awake, seemingly several hours later, looking up from the floor of the garden, and surrounded by fresh grass, soft but unbreakable, and delicate, vibrantly-colored flowers.
“So you’re awake.”
My eyes darted over to see Elysian up on his haunches, standing over me. The rest of my body was unwilling to move.
“I’m surprised,” Elysian continued.
“Because you’re awake before me?” I joked.
“No,” Elysian retorted. “I’m surprised because it hasn’t been that long. I thought you’d be out longer. Not everyone will come up so soon after a baptism of light like that one.”
“Baptism?” I struggled to get up, knowing full well Elysian wouldn’t be leaving me alone anytime soon. “I don’t know if I’d call it that. It was more like, I don’t know, a supernova, I guess. I felt crushed and then fluffed out like a sheet in a washing machine.”
“You seem to have benefited from it,” Elysian said with a shrug. “You even look different.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your wings.” Elysian nodded in their direction. He plucked a feather and handed it to me. “See? It’s changed color, from black to red.”
“Awesome,” I muttered, still groggy. I rubbed my eyes and squinted at the feather between Elysian’s claws. He was right, I saw; the ebony of my wings had been seemingly burned, leaving a fiery red quality to my feathers. “I wonder if this means I’ll be able to fly now?”
“We’ll add it to the list of questions for Lady Time and Aleia.”
“Where are they?” I asked.
“They’re around. I saw them walking out by the Meallán with St. Brendan a while ago. Alora will be looking for you soon, since you’re up now.”
“Oh, okay.” I rubbed my temples. “Elysian, can you tell me why I fell?”
“It is a punishment,” Elysian said, “for stars who rebel against their duty or orders. Or misuse their power.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“I did. Way back at the beginning, when I was explaining how the Stars began to fall. Remember? You laughed at me and said it was not ‘real,’ just some part of a fairy tale.” He narrowed his gaze. “I suppose you might not have been listening at the time.”
I had a feeling he was right. “Why would I fall though?” I asked. “Why would I go to Earth? Adonaias told me I’d been forgiven.”
Elysian bristled. “Maybe your punishment was delayed. It’s happened before. The Prince of Stars delays confronting the fallen. Or it’s possible you chose to fall yourself, wishing yourself on Earth. Some stars have done that after falling in love with a human.”
“But I wasn’t in love with a human at all,” I objected. “I was in love with Starry Knight.”
“Well, then I—what?” The rough quality of his voice raised an octave higher. Had it been any other time, any other topic, I might have laughed. But there was nothing funny about this.
“Er, yeah. It was a bit of a surprise to me, too.”
There was a beat of silence before he responded. “Was it really that much of a surprise?”
“Yes. No. I mean . . . I don’t know.” I shook my head. I didn’t want to tell him.
“Are you still in love with her?”
Another moment of silence. “I don’t know,” I finally said. I turned my gaze away and looked out into the distance.
“Either way, you should let it go,” Elysian told me sharply. “Love never makes things simpler. It only complicates them.”
“What’s your problem?” I asked. “You’ve been acting weird since we got on the boat. You’re the one who wanted to come.”
Elysian’s jaw visibly clenched. “You aren’t the only one who has been affected by falling,” he said.
“What are you talking about?” Then seeing his face, I realized what he meant. “You mean you? Because I thought you came to find me.”
“That was part of it. But it was a forced exile.”
I stood up and looked down to see uncharacteristic defiance written all over my so-called mentor’s face; it was hard to see him as my treat-loving lizard who would bury himself into my bedcovers at night. “I don’t understand.”
“You are a fallen star. I am among the fallen, too,” Elysian muttered. “I thought coming here, I would be reinstated. But I’m not going to be.”
“Someone told you?”
“No. Don’t be an idiot.” Elysian sighed. “Can’t you feel it? Can’t you see it? We are surrounded by a pure world, caught between Time and Eternity. It is protected, heavily, from corruption. It is a miracle we were even allowed to come aboard the Meallán.”
“I didn’t notice.” At least, I thought, not at first. My awareness had gradually sunk in, so gradual I barely noticed that I had noticed it at all. “I must be getting used to the miraculous.”
“This world is too good for us, even me,” Elysian muttered. “And especially you.”
Suddenly, I realized he was angry with me—very angry with me. I was more shocked than scared, but also confused. “If all bad is bad, what makes you think your bad is better than mine?”
“It’s not fair. It’s hard enough to get you to admit there are such things as right things and good things, or bad things and wrong things.” Elysian began to pace back and forth, stomping around on the perfect grass. “You’re a lazy warrior, and a liar. You can’t deny it, either,” he snapped, before I could interject. “And yet, the Prince had
‘forgiven you.’ You, and not me.”
“Besides the fact you’ve overlooked all your flaws, have you asked for his forgiveness?” I asked, curious.
Elysian’s head briefly transformed into its bigger, more deadly form, his anger doing damage to his self-control. “Do you think you needed to!?” His great voice bellowed out of his snout, blowing a strong but harmless wind all around me. “No, there’s no doubt about it in my mind that you deserved to fall. But I was tricked.” He returned to his smaller size, before adding, “I know I was tricked.”
“Did I trick you?” At his glare, I placed my hands down in calm frustration. “I don’t remember. I still don’t even remember my Star name. And I’m confused about a lot of things. St. Brendan told me I was the Star of Fire, and Alora told me I was the Star of Mercy, and I can’t remember Starry Knight’s name, either, even though I was supposed to be in love with her.” I slumped down in front of Elysian. “I’m just asking for the truth, honestly. So tell me. Was I the one who tricked you?”
Elysian was silent for a moment. I could see his eyes fall, his anger cooling. “No,” he finally murmured. “My brother did.”
“Your brother?” That was a surprise. “But you said he was up here. If he tricked you, wouldn’t he have fallen along with you?”
Elysian nodded to the scaly, white flotsam surrounding Time’s palace. “He’s fallen all right. But not all of him left.”
I looked past him, and saw the shed skin of the River Guardian. The closer I looked, the more I realized that it shared a lot of Elysian’s traits; it had the same scaly pattern, the distinctive curve of the nostrils, and the similar shape of its horns. “That’s . . . him?”
“His dragon skin,” Elysian said. “When Draco fell, he was defiant to the last. He was cursed, and he shed his skin to stay behind, trapped up here, while he escaped with his memories and power. He went to the Earth like you, to live as a mortal. But because his skin is up here, he will never die as a mortal will.” Elysian snarled up at the ghostly moat. “Draco always was a cunning beast. He managed to do quite a bit of damage before falling, and even afterward. Adonaias himself cursed him so severely that even the snake—one of his favorite transformations—remains part of the curse. All the days of his life, the snake will slither along the ground of the earth, and Draco himself will never be able to rise in true power.”
Submerging (The Starlight Chronicles Book 3) Page 12
