Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There was once a boy who knew nothing but decay. Born in the smoldering twilight of an empire, he noted the season's change by disease and marked the years in wars. He didn't know his mother and his father was but a phantom haunting his earliest memories. And he too would have surely been forgotten had it not been for the ring carefully kept round the child's neck.

A small weed of a thing, the boy grew into a feral creature. He stole when he could, and starved when he couldn't. With his black eyes and waxy face, he scared many in the villages he inhabited. Moving like a wraith along the narrow pathways and alleys, he had several priests called to exorcise him over the years. But when they'd bring their holy fury, they'd only find an emaciated boy beyond their crucifix.

With nothing but the dirty clothes on his back, he made his way through the continent. Evading thieves and knights alike, he slept in trees because they were well off the ground and easily defensible with a few heavy stones. His dead-accurate aim forged over several years, no man had a hope against his artillery barrage, nor the skill to scramble after the little rat that slunk about the high branches. And he was proud of that fact, fore loneliness suited him.

So went the majority of his adolescence, until one night when he found himself in an orchard. It was there as he laid upon the tallest bough of an apple tree, under the thick tapastry of stars, devouring yet another of the fruit within arm's reach.......that a line of fire sliced the sky.

Startled, the apple slipped from his fingers. He grappled with it. Stumbling, clumsy, fingers slipped against the smooth skin before both apple and boy tumbled to the freshly tilled ground below.

His yelp crashed against the curtain of deepest night. It echoed about him, bouncing off thick trunks and shaking high branches. His heart pounded within his chest. Damn his clumsiness, his fear, his screams. Damn his hubris! His damned desperation. His hunger!

His stomach growled.

Damn!

He was caught! Surely someone heard. Someone angry. Someone waking up at the witching hour mad as a hare and mean as a boar. Ready to kill the little rodent nesting in his orchard. Curling himself against the spread of roots, the boy held his breath.

But then seconds passed....minutes....and nothing but the nocturnal symphony of crickets abounded. There were no angry shouts, curses fed by raspy whispers, nor the foreboding footfalls of an angry lord awoken by thievery.

Swallowing, the boy's grubby hands searched the earth beneath him. Shaking fingers found the contraband and, without pause, greedily snatched it from its resting place. It tasted of soil and worms, but he licked his lips nontheless.

The residual stickiness wiped away, and his heartbeat settling into its regular plodding tread, his memory lit upon the comet that had cleaved the night. Now frightfully awake, frightfully curious, and frightfully foolish, he stood upon thin beedle-legs, and walked into the woods.

Stumbling through ivy and over stone, his search took him deep into the forest. He held his breath at every broken twig and each wolf howl sent his small hairs quivering. Naught but a small prey animal he shrunk from towering elms and reaching shadows. And such was the total of his journey, that he didn't notice dawn breaking until he stood above the newly-hewn valley.

Mouth agape, he beheld where the earth had shattered. Once gently rolling woods had been torn asunder in the comet's fiery path. Trees bisected, splintered, some even incinerated the closer he wandered. Earthworks had errupted, suffocating green slopes and silvery moonlit meadows. All was charcoal and ash. He would have described it as desolate if he had known such a word, but bleak fit the scene well enough. The boy dropped on all fours and scaled the crater. He kept low, peaking over the top to see down into the trench.

At first all he saw was a bundle of rags blowing in the soft breeze, that was until a slender leg adjusted itself to curl back into shadow. Squinting, he leaned further. No, that was certainly a leg. A woman's leg to be precise. What was a woman doing falling from the sky?

Under his curious gaze, the first rays of sunlight touched the pit, and the woman stood to greet them. Movements, too smooth to be human, unspooled her lithe form from her dusky hovel. Stretching high, she was a flower in the new day. So dignified in posture and sure of foot, she might as well have been draped in a lavish gown rather than dirty rags. The boy sniffed at this display, throwing his legs over the side, he sat there kicking the air.

"Lady, what do they call you?"

The woman started at this sudden question. She turned to look up at the unexpected guest perched atop the crater. The boy's heart skipped when he looked upon her face. Bright green eyes glinted against her olive skin as her lips curled into a dangerous smile.

"And who is this imp who has the audacity to address a queen?"

"Queen?!" he guffawed, "Queen of rags more like!"

The woman's eyes flashed at his jest, her smile waning, "I say again, what is your name?"

"I haven't got one, miss."

"Impossible, you must go by something."

"Boy mostly, Welp other times. I told you, I don't have one."

"Well then...Boy, if that is indeed how you go by. Come down here, I wish to see you better."

He fidgeted. He didn't like her expression. It simmered like a cauldron upon a fire...bubbling beneath a half-cocked lid, "I much like sitting up here, miss-"

"YOUR HIGHNESS," she was quick to interrupt, her mouth dropping into a snarl, "If you please."

"MISS!" the boy jumped to standing, "I know what you are Miss, you're a demon! And I'm not gonna talk to you any longer! Certainly not, no way!"

He made a brisk turn away from the hole only to find the lithe woman staring down at him. The boy gasped, stuttering back, his toes caught on the edge of the great chasm. His arms windmilled as his sight swung from ride-side up, to sideways, then further. His stomach slid against his spine. No...no, no, no, he was fall-

With a beleaguered sigh, the woman grabbed the front of his dirty shirt and pulled him away from certain death. He landed on his knees at her feet, his heart beating in his ears.

"There now," she cooed, "Was it really all that hard?"

The boy tensed and scuttled away. Crawling backwards, he never dropped eye contact," I want to go home...your highness."

"Home?" the queen crept toward him, "But you don't have one, Boy."

"I-I never told you tha-"

"You didn't have to," she reached where he had stalled and knelt down. Her slender fingers brushed the mop of hair out of his eyes, " I know a wild animal when I see one."

Her face so close to his, he was again struck by her beauty. She was the perfect marriage between ethereal and earthly, his heart paused in his chest, "Who are you?"

"I am Cassiopeia, queen of Aethiopia. I'm sure you've seen me in the histories."

The boy shook his head, "I read no books, your highness. I don't know how."

"Pity, you seem intelligent enough." The queen stood and extended her hand down to the stupefied boy, "I can teach you to read."

He shrank from that delicate paw, "But only noblemen read. What use do I have for that?"

"Intelligent yet daft!" She laughed, turning her head up to the lavender dawn, "I offer you opportunity you silly creature!"

He continued to stare, a rabbit unsure of the wolf hovering over him.

The queen softened her voice, speaking in lilting tones, "I can keep you from starving little one. You can have all the finest clothes and the richest cuisine. You can possess knowledge older than time itself and even beat back the decay of age. Boy, I wish to make you my king."

"King.."

"Yes, just take my hand and it will be done."

The dream of satiated hunger, of warm clothes, of beds, linens, and mattresses...yes...perhaps even a mattress every night, floated behind the child's eyes. The woman's hand glowed in the new day, open and soft. His dirt-encrusted fingers reached toward her, hovering just an inch away from her grasp before he caught himself. Swallowing, he stared down those brilliant green eyes, "That sounds like the kind of deal a devil would make."

She chuckled to herself, "Well it's your decision to make. Am I a devil or aren't I?"

The boy chewed on his chapped lips. His mind whirled with the possibilities. In his short life he had been assured of very little and wished for even less. Loved by no one, his was an existence bound to be erased from history. But there he was, at the foot of a queen, pondering the possibility of monarchy....What was he doing? This wasn't a hard decision at all! He shook his head to clear his superstitious thoughts and reached for her. His roughed hand entwining with hers.

A flash of light nearly blinded him. His free hand flew before his face. Through slitted sight the petite figure of a girl appeared. Trying to blink away the sunbursts, all he could see was her eyes as they faded from emerald green to hazel, never once dropping their stare. He gulped, "Y-your majesty?"

The girl's laughter was light upon the morning air. She pulled his hand to her cheek, "Call me Amaya."

Chapter Text

The stale smell of cow hide and manure permeated the old barn despite years of abandonment. Asha was sure only the timbers above remembered how long it had been. That was one of several thoughts that ran through her head as she sat cross-legged on the cold earthen floor. Her legs, long since descended into numb, fuzzed with pinpricks as her blood slowed. She was on hour three....or was it four...of her vigil with a half-burned tallow candle. And she felt every damp, cramped, minute.

"Izi," she hissed for what seemed like the thousandth time.

The wick sparked between her stardust encrusted fingers then went dark.

"Come on...izi!"

It merely smoked.

She hurled the candle across the dim expanse. It hit the side of the barn then landed, soft, upon the hay. Pity, she wanted it to be more satisfying than that. At least break a little, that would have alleviated some of her anxiety. Her aggravation slithered through clenched teeth. A deep, gutteral growl, it disturbed the small creature snuffling around the barn's shadowy corners. Sending a wary eye her way, her pet goat, Valentino, stopped his curious chewing. But finding the girl's anger spent, he once again tucked into his feast of moldering hay.

"You're going to make yourself sick, you know." All she heard was a muffled bleat as he buried his head further under the mound.

"Fine, fine be my guest. At least one of us is getting something out of this," she stood and stretched out her sore limbs. Her arms gathered underneath her braided hair, pushing it up until it fell in a curtain over her face. The glass beads and shells woven through it clicked and spun in front of her eyes. She let out a long, frustrated, sigh. What was she to do? The tournament was tomorrow, and she couldn't even light a simple candle. Oh, she could hear the gossip now...

'Poor, dim, Asha.'

'Such a shame, born from two talented parents.'

'Sakina must be mortified! I'd imagine Tomás would have died of embarrassment if he hadn't-'

Asha flung her hair back. Aged hay crumbled underfoot as she marched to the candle. Her desperate hands scavenged within the drawstring purse at her hip, scraping and grasping at the dwindling stardust. Hurriedly brushed with the fine powder, they rose high and sparkled in the patchwork light.

She breathed in

Eyes closed, she remembered her father. She could hear him, carefully guiding her through the incantations. She could feel him, his strong hands correcting her posture, re-arranging her arms, "There," he'd say, "Like that," he'd approve.

She breathed out.

"Don't over-think it, mija."

"IZI!"

Brilliant, bright, and hot; light exploded beyond her eyelids. Startled, she stumbled back from the flames. Valentino bleated in distress, racing to cower behind the girl's legs. But Asha didn't hear his frenzied cries, nor did she have the mind to, not then. She was transfixed, watching the blaze as it reduced the candle to a streak of fat upon the barn floor.

There was a giggle. Then a laugh. Then a wild yell.

"I did it Papa! I DID IT!" she jumped and spun, further disgruntling the small goat. She cackled as the flames leapt higher and higher, dancing before her creation.

That was until the side of the barn caught fire.

Asha froze in her victory to see a line of scarlet racing up the rotten walls.

"Oh no."

She looked around for a bucket, a trough, anything that might carry water...but came up short. Her hands shook as she grappled for her stardust. Snatching more than she could hold, the residual dropped in waste between her fingers.

She brought her fist to her mouth, "MU!" she declared before throwing it at the growing inferno.

The dust glittered gold in the light before falling, harmless, over the fire.

"No!" Asha gasped as the smoke started to fill that all-too-small space. Eyes watering, she fought with the purse. Valentino's hysterical cries rang in her ears, doing little else than make her heart race. Clawing in her rising panic, the bag tore, sending the rest of the supply into the smokey abyss, "No, no, NO!" She dropped to her knees and tried to collect the fallen dust, but it sank further and further into the hay that was fast becoming tinder, "Papa, what do I do...What do I do!"

"Breathe, mija, breathe and think!"

Asha stopped her frantic scratching and placed both her palms flat against the ground. She started to cough, her throat was raw and burning. She needed water, lots of it. And what had more water than a-

"HUBUR!"

Water erupted beneath her hands, gushing up like an underground spring. It eagerly rushed the inferno, smothering embers and belching smoke, it threw itself against the side of the barn before washing back toward Asha. She quick grabbed Valentino before the wave crashed down upon them.

She was spinning, somersaulting, end over end, upwards and down. Dizzy then not, lost then not, blind then not. Shifting light and suffocating dark, then nothing but bubbles and the baby goat held tight in her arms. They were swirled all together with the debris of charcoal and splintered wood before the barn doors burst open, and they were washed out into the bright sunlight of Rosas.

She lay there in the mud, the little goat perched on her chest, very much worse for wear. She stared up at him and gave an apologetic smile.

He sniffed and made an about face, sitting with his back to her.

"We're alive, aren't we?"

Valentino's ears twitched.

Asha sighed and let her head fall to the ground, "Well I guess I could always burn the castle down, huh? That'd be a show. At this rate there's no way in h-" her self-deprecation was cut short when she saw the leather satchel not ten feet away.

She shot up, sending Valentino tumbling as she scrambled over to the waterlogged pack. She threw it open and retrieved the scrolls stuffed inside. Opening them, she was greeted by the night sky. Or, at least the parts she'd finished. She sighed, rolling up the parchment slow. They were damp, but nothing that couldn't be cured by sunlight. She threw the satchel over her shoulder and tucked a scroll under each arm. Setting that right, there was only one thing left to do.

She winced, prematurely prepping herself to behold what was left of the barn. She turned slow...

"Well...it's not that bad."

It was a lie. The structure was still standing, but half of it was charred and the rest smoking. The residual river she had summoned still trickled out the front, more a stream than anything else.

She turned to issue yet another apologetic look to her grumpy goat, "Since we're already soaked, we might as well go out on the boat tonight, huh?"

Valentino squinted at her.

"Look, do you really want to be here when everyone wakes up to see the mess we've made?"

The goat continued to squint, "The mess YOU made," his expression conveyed.

She shrugged and started walking down the hill. Valentino was quick to scramble after her.

The girl glanced up at the sun, noting its position in the sky. She had adapted to the unending daylight like many others who inhabited the unique island of Rosas. There's was a sun that never set, at least not for the 500 years of the kingdom's existence. And like every native, she marked time depending in which cardinal direction it resided in. At that moment the sun was perched in the southern sky. Asha smiled, at least there was some luck to be had tonight.

The girl and the goat made their way through the silent city. Creeping through thin alley ways and under tightly - latched windows. The sun above reflected brilliant and white off the many walls and tile roofs. It created the idea of abandonment, but an errant snore or the lowing of a family's cow was enough to dispense that thought. The pair picked their way across the empty expanse, making good time. The sun had barely inched toward the east when Asha hit sand. She raced across the small beach, sliding to a stop once she met the rock wall of the cliff above. She glanced behind her before pushing aside the thick grass at her feet to reveal an opening less than a foot high.

She fell to a sitting position and wiggled through the narrow slot, dropping into the small cavern below. Valentino stuck his head through the entrance and let out a string of nervous bleats. They echoed, tenfold, around the confined space. Teeth clenched at the shrill noise, Asha's hands reached toward him, "Come on Valentino!" She called as loud as she dared, "I've got you."

The goat turned his nose up at her assistance, offended that she thought him so helpless, and leapt in himself. But in his pride, his gangly legs tangled, and he was sent rolling all the way to the bow of the rowboat.

Asha rolled her eyes, picking her way along the sloping floor until she reached the point where rock surrendered to water.

"Next time," she whispered, carefully placing the scrolls in the vessel, "I think you'd do better with my help."

The goat grumbled, but didn't fight, as she picked him up and stepped aboard. Properly situated, she reached over and loosed the mooring rope before using one of the oars to shove off from the makeshift dock. The tide grabbed hold and both ducked as they passed under the sea cave's narrow exit, and toward the open ocean beyond. She then mounted both oars and began their journey.

She pulled the boat through the rippling water, the occasional spray that doused them got colder the further out they ventured. The sky above moved from bright blue, to pink, to purple, then to indigo. It wasn't until Asha reached the last sea stack that the stars blazed against the night sky. She sucked in her breath at the sight, no matter how familiar, she was still awestruck by the sheer size and beauty of the galaxy spread out before her.

Her rowing stilled for only a moment, but the boat began to drift. Too far. The girl jolted from her trance and almost leapt out of the vessel to grab hold of the old iron ring. A remnant of her childhood, she often remembered the fond moments when her father and grandfather would take her out beyond the enchantment to regale her with the celestial tales of the constellations. She smiled, thinking of times that would never be again as she knotted the rope around the moor. With everything secure, Asha went about opening one of the scrolls. She set it against the seat, across from where Valentino leered.

She glared, "Don't you dare eat it!"

With a harrumph, the little goat turned his attention from the appetizing parchment to look back at Rosas. Watching the city glow against the dark expanse that surrounded it.

Once Asha was certain of his appeasement, she reached into the damp satchel and retrieved her ink well and quill. Holding her breath, she tapped the point of the quill against the wood to clear out any residual water before dipping it into the well. She let a few ink droplets fall before deciding that the consistency was decent enough. Thankfully, even these were unscathed by her wild river ride.

She studied the heavens above. Choosing to resume her endeavors by illustrating the faint celestial sea on the edges of the horizon. Making deliberate motions, she imbued the paper with images of Aquarius, Cetus, and Capricornus. Her strokes had gotten more confident since she'd began this project. Constellations and illustrations created an elegant circle of interconnected patterns on the sheet before her. It was a sorry excuse for the real thing, but she hoped her grandfather would love it all the same.

But then something stopped her. Something....wrong. She bit down on the top of the quill, glancing up, then checking her map. That was strange...she could have sworn that Cetus didn't have an extra leg. She looked up again and lo, there was another star below the body of the constellation. How odd, Asha had seen how stars moved through the seasons, but she'd never seen them appear like that. She sized up the rogue ball of light for a while before shrugging. The sea monster had two legs now, that was fine by her. She bent down and made the new mark, only to look back up to find Cetus as she had always known him........single leg and all.

She looked around in confusion, but among the thick spread of the milky way, there was no telling where this odd addition had gone. Or if it had existed at all. She tutted. Oh, how foolish she was being! Wound too tight on too little sleep, she was seeing things she ought not!

"Ay Valentino," the goat glanced back at her as she cracked her knuckles, "Let's make this quick alright?"

He let out a sniff and went back to his sight seeing. Rolling her eyes at the ill-tempered beast, she went back to work. Scratching out the celestial kingdom with nothing but ink.

Chapter Text

On the fringes of sleep, Asha rolled her shoulders and winced. The skin there felt tight, tender...sunburnt....ugh.

Her eyes peeled open. Crusted in the salt air, her lashes crackled, dry. She squinted in the new day. Taking in the slow bob and the briny scent, her fingers searched - somewhat blind - for her surroundings. They found the weathered gunwale, followed it to the bow, then chaffed against the eyelet which held the mooring firm.

Ah, she was still in the boat. She must have fallen asleep.

"Not quick enough, I see. Oh well...."

Leaning back with the vessel's keel, she let out a yawn, stretching out all the knots and kinks. Yes, that was better! The ship rolled forward and so did she. Reaching toward her toes, she found it.

"Oh no..."

The ink well rolled around the belly of the ship. Empty.

In a panic, she checked the star map...which was fine. She checked her hands, which were a bit smudged, but no more than if she was using a quill....they were fine. Then, very slow, she looked down. Her eyes fell upon the oily splotch that stained her lap.

Yemma was going to kill her.

She reached up and massaged the headache that was starting at her temples. Well it could be fixed, or rather...hidden. Maybe it was still early enough to sneak in without anyone-

"I'M LATE!"

Her shout startled Valentino awake. He stumbled around the rough sway of the boat as Asha ripped apart the sailor's knot.

The sun - the real one that was - blazed terribly high in the hazy sky. Marking the late morning and the girl's inevitable tardiness.

She was going to miss the tournament.

Gripping the oars tight, she began her frantic paddle to land. Fortunately the sea was in a friendly mood and it helped her strokes along with steady waves, all but pushing her home.

After her hasty docking job, she slid the scrolls back into the now dry leather satchel and tucked Valentino under her arm. She sprinted to the hole in the wall, throwing the goat through first before slithering through herself. Covered in sand, silt, and salt she clawed her way back onto the beach. She knew that she must of looked a sight, but that was the last thing she was worried about as she stumbled her way up the sandy incline and launched herself along the narrow stone path.

She flew through the now crowded streets. Different voices and tongues all chattering in their inane ways until she came through. Leaving shouts and gasps in her wake, she shoved aside meandering couples, jumped baskets, and on one occasion knocked over several wicker cages full of chickens. In a burst of feathers and general chaos, she shouted back a quick, "SORRY!" before barreling her way toward her house.

She ran until the tightly packed buildings grew apart, slowed to a jog when she hit packed dirt and wobbled to an exhausted walk once the thatch roof came into sight. Feet from her door, she put a hand to her side, bent over, and heaved.

"Ow...that...that was a lot," she panted.

A pitiful bray rose up in between her gasps. Collecting herself, she bat away her braids to see Valentino stutter to a halt before landing heavy on his haunches.

"You too....huh?" The girl straightened up, sucking in her breath as she did.

Oh, how she hurt!

Making her way back to the weary goat, she wrapped both arms around his little torso and lifted, grunting "Alright...come on," her over-worked muscles strained under his weight, "We've only got...a couple...steps...to...go!"

She kicked open the door then dropped the goat like a stone before her knees buckled and she fell across the entry way.

"ASHA!" Her mother yelped, as she rushed to attend to her daughter, "Asha! Habibti, what happened?!"

The girl attempted to give her mother a smile, but it came across more like a flinch, "Practicing Yemma. Just lost track of time." She rolled over and started to pick herself up, "I'm ok...lost my balance is all."

Her mother's eyes implored ceiling, "Ah Tomás, our daughter is practicing right up to the end. What are we to do with her?"

"He'd find a kindred spirit Sakina," the raspy voice of Sabino rose from the spindly stool he often inhabited. His gnarled hands folded against the old table, "Passionate but lazy...eh mijita?"

"Not lazy Baba!" Asha complained as she finally gained her footing.

"Your DRESS!" her mother gasped. The woman's eyes scoured it from top to bottom. Asha didn't know what she found the most egregious, the ink stain, the scorched hem, or the sand-laden front. She tensed for a lecture, only to have her mother sigh, "At least enter the house correctly Asha."

The girl let out the breath she had been holding, "Oh, yes...that's right."

"Sakina-" her grandfather started, but Asha waved away his defense. She went back outside, faced away from the house, scrapped her feet against the front steps, then re-entered walking backwards three steps. She turned back to look at her mother, "Will that do, Yemma?"

"Yes, that's fine. Make sure you shut the door."

"Of course."

Asha traded strained looks with her grandfather as the door closed. If Sakina was to have her house one way, it was to be free of evil spirits. And nowhere was that more evident than the copious amounts of salt which littered their modest cottage. It stood guard on every windowsill, marched along each doorway, and demarcated the main room into three sections. There was one for the kitchen, one for the communal area, and one that followed the bottom of the curtained off corner denoted as Sabino's quarters. The old man had originally been antagonistic about the prospect, but he was wise enough to honor it once Sakina had laid it down. Because it was better that way. Kinder. Fore even if grandfather and daughter didn't believe in it, Sakina did. And it was the small graces they allowed her that kept the atmosphere in the house light.

Besides, Asha wasn't too keen on the topic herself. Whenever she'd dared even mutter her concern - or outright denial - of the superstition, the conversation would always wind its way around to Asha and the care she ought to take about this or that, or the danger Yemma always managed to dream up. Truthfully, if her mother had any say in it, her daughter ought not leave the house unless she was laden in talismans against the evil eye.

And oh how horrid it would be! There would be thousands of them....multitudes of copper hands refracting enough sunlight to blind all those near. Clanking along the path to market, the girl would be a terror to the unfortunate lot stuck in her path. A monster passed about in stories between children.

Asha shuddered.

"Quick! Quick! Stop wasting time! Go on and put on that new dress. Hurry!" her mother tapped her back, "I still have to make some adjustments!"

"Don't worry, I'm going!" The girl took the steps three at a time. She was already wrestling with the simple peasant dress before she entered her room. No sooner was the ruined attire balled up and thrown in the corner, that the new grown was pulled on. Falling over her hips with a light sigh, it floated around her ankles. It was beautiful. Easily one of her mother's best. The woman may have been a magician by trade, but her true talent was in her work as a seamstress, which was to her family's benefit. It had kept a roof over their head during the tumultuous years following Tomás's death, and - most importantly - had kept Sakina busy.

Though no matter how many sleeves she stitched or patterns she sewed, she never looked at the art she created. Sure, her fingers knew every wrinkle and seam, but her eyes...they were always focused on some mysterious horizon, far and away from the cozy confines of Rosas. Perhaps to where her husband had gone. Someplace she couldn't follow. Not yet.

The daughter swallowed at the thought.

Jogging back downstairs, Asha rubbed the skirt between her fingers. Iridescent in the sun, it glittered in several shades as it was pinched and turned. But the color. Her mouth tightened. Did it have to be that vibrant? That loud?

"Come on...come on!" her mother dragged out an empty stool with her foot, her movements frantic.

Asha stepped up as instructed and extended her arms out on either side. A pose she had frozen in numerous times over the years as her mother had let out her dresses again and again. The record was six times, but who knew what further wizardry that woman could perform.

"Why aren't you wearing the slippers?"

Asha looked down at the simple brown boots she hadn't bothered to change out of, "They're comfy, and good for walking."

"I don't recall slippers being bad for walking in."

"They're not, but-"

"And they're not covered in mud."

"Yes...but..."

"Asha," Sabino chuckled, "Your mother desires to dress you up like a doll. For one day, I'd obey her wis-" the old man hacked, "...wis-" he tried again only to gag, splutter, then cough. And cough, and cough, and-

"Baba-" Asha started to dismount the stool, but her mother's hand caught her knee. The girl looked down at Sakina, the woman's eyes were closed tight against that awful sound. A sound that they'd never been able to get used to, no matter how frequently it permeated their house. With a sharp breath, she blinked and started placing an assortment of needles between her lips. Her movements tense, she dropped to her knees, and began her work at the hem.

Ah, how lucky her mother was! At least she could busy herself with something, create something, control something. All Asha could do was stare. It was all she could ever do. Always left to watch as her grandfather's chest convulsed.

He caught her looking and held up his hand to assuage her before making a grab for the ladle that stuck out of the water barrel- placed with recent purpose - next to the table.

He drank long and deep, the cough turning into a dry rasp, "I'd obey her wish," he ended his sentence with triumph.

"Well said," Sakina mumbled around the line of needles.

Asha's stomach twisted. That cough was getting worse. It had started as a simple cold, but then never left. Hanging around year after year, it grew thick within the man's lungs. But Sabino had always shooed away concern, giving the nonchalant answer that his legs were bad, so why not his lungs? He was 100 years old - he'd continue - what man as ancient as he didn't have something that didn't work the same way it did?

Nobody in the house could argue with any of those points, but Asha's mind still fell prey to fear whenever he had one of his attacks. And they only kept getting more regular....more concerning....more-

"Turn please," her mother's voice interrupted her thoughts.

Asha spun to the left and her mother continued working. She shifted, uncomfortable in the newly silent room.

"Stand still! Do you want a messy hem when you meet the king?"

The girl straightened. Over-strained, over-stretched, muscles pulsed sore and so....so... heavy. Her elbows sagged. Wincing, she tried to urge life into her limbs, reaching through her fingers. But they protested, held up too long, they were as crooked as a scarecrow's. Goodness, she could barely move! Did she have any muscles left? Had they been torn...eviscerated?! All that rowing having peeled them bare! Left with nothing but little noodles sloughing off her bones! She tried again, and her arms sagged further. Agh, why must her mother be so precise? She couldn't hold this for much longer!

Breathing through the discomfort, one particular breath went on a bit too long...and a bit too loud. Despite herself, the girl sighed.

Sakina emerged from beneath the skirt, eyes glinting with a fierce light, "What was that?"

Asha recoiled, "No Yemma...I wouldn't want to see the king this way."

With a shake of her head, her mother summoned a surprising length of fabric, clucking, "Almost eighteen and still growing like a weed, I can't keep up with you."

Lowering her arms ever-so-slight, the daughter grinned back, "Must be all the dandelion greens."

Her mother snickered, "Must be."

"Yemma."

"Mmmm."

"It's a very pretty dress, beautiful. But...did it have to be purple?"

"Purple is the color of royalty Asha, dear. It'll be eye catching."

"And expensive."

Her mother pulled the last pin from her pursed lips, her eyes focused on the fabric before her, "You let me worry about that, habibti."

"Yes, yes," Sabino's voice rejoined the conversation, strong once again, "Anything for the king. That pompous-"

"BABA!" Sakina's head snapped back to scold the old man.

"I'd repeat every word to King Magnifico himself Sakina, I'm not afraid of a peacock like him."

"You profited from his favor just as much as everyone else in this house."

"Yes, but only when Tomás was alive."

Sakina dropped her gaze, she breathed in hard before patting Asha's leg, "Turn."

"Mark my words mijita, you'd do yourself a favor to not put your trust in man. In this world the only consistent things are the sun and the stars. And I want you to remember, no king, lord, or knight will come to your aid more readily than a star."

Asha craned her head around to catch sight of her grandfather, "Baba, the way you and Papa always talked, you make it seem like they're alive."

"Of course they are, why wouldn't they be?"

"Truly? Walking and talking like us here? Come on Baba, I'm not a child anymore."

"I speak the truth, Asha. Being out there on the water all those years will teach you a thing or two. I'll have you know the North star himself guided us through a bad squall. That was back when I was still sailing out of the continent."

"You met a star? Really?"

"Of course he didn't," Sakina interrupted, "He's telling stories."

"Then where, say you, does all this wonderful stardust come from?" Sabino grumbled back.

"The meteor that fell to earth 500 years ago, as says our history. Honestly, Baba, any star to be met would be as inanimate as that massive rock that lies beneath the castle," the woman punctuated her point by cutting the thread on her teeth, "Turn Asha."

"Feh, fluff to keep the masses happy. How could they know, we languish under this never-ending sun," his wrinkled hand batted at the window.

"Never ending sun and protection from enemies of all kinds," Sakina mused.

"Baba," Asha piped up, "Where did you meet the star?"

"Now Asha-"

"Shush Sakina, let the girl ask her questions," Sabino adjusted himself on the stool so that he could gesticulate freely, "It was awfully cold that night, even before the storm. There was this moment where everything went quiet, the sea stalled and so did the wind."

"You were stuck," The girl interjected.

"No mijita, we were at the place where the sea met the sky. It doesn't happen often, but there are points on the open ocean where you can touch the heavens. It's there where you can meet the stars."

Asha's eyes narrowed.

"Ah be skeptical all you want, but I am telling the truth," The old man placed his hand over his heart, "Ask a question there and someone will answer."

The knock came, impatient and harsh, against their door. Jumping in their shared surprise, Asha yelped as her mother's sewing needle embedded itself in her calf. The flustered woman whispered her apologies. Finding nothing but a pinprick, she gave the garment the final pat down, "Well, it'll have to do."

The girl hopped down from the stool and wrapped her in a tight hug, "Thank you Yemma, I'm going to win, I promise. We'll be in the king's favor once again!"

Her mother patted her lightly on the back, "I would like that very much. Now go. Go!"

Asha stopped in front of Sabino, she took his frail hands in hers, "Wish me luck Baba."

The old man smiled, "May the stars guide you, Asha."

She squeezed his hands in thanks before turning to leave.

"Wait Asha! The slippers!" Sakina shouted in panic. The girl halted her exit, reached into her pocket and retrieved the matching purple shoes. She looked back at her mother and waved them in the air. The woman's worry melted into a smile, "Good luck!"

Asha hopped the rest of the way, discarding her old boots and shoving her feet into the more appropriate footwear. She opened the door at the same time she was sliding into the second slipper. Bent over in an awkward position, she looked up at the large boy who filled the door frame, "Hi Simon, ready to go?"

"Why'd you burn down my barn?"

Chapter Text

Asha gagged on her own saliva, "Uhh...well...ahhh."

"What does he mean 'burned down his barn?'" Sakina's voice had dropped dangerous and low. The hair on the back of Asha's neck stood at attention.

"H-he's just being funny," she straightened up and gave Simon a friendly pat on the chest, "You're cracking jokes again you jester, you!"

"I'm more serious than I ever have been."

"Ah, yes. Well, we do have to go don't we!" The girl declared to the room before turning back to Simon in a tight-jawed whisper, "We'll talk more outside."

"You're not that late," her mother countered, her arms crossing over her chest, "I would very much like to hear about this barn of yours Sim-" Asha slammed the door closed on her mother's disappointed face. She could hear her grandfather cackling behind the thick wood as she turned to deal with the angry boy, "Look, I don't know where to start-"

"'Why' would be a good place."

She glanced at the front door and waved for Simon to follow. Once they were a safe distance from the house Asha started talking. She elaborated on the hours of time she had spent on that awful dirt floor, surrounded by bugs and who knows what else, trying to light a tiny candle, "It was so hard Simon! You know how much I have to work to get a simple spell off the ground?"

"Well, you obviously had an easy enough time of it since you BURNED. DOWN. MY. BARN!"

"Yes...yes...but I put it out. See, I was able to summon both fire and water. On my own. No props. Do you know how much of an improvement that is? For me?!"

Simon stopped his walking and regarded her with silence.

Asha paused with him, her eyebrows knit together and she breathed in, "....and I will find a way to make it right!"

"You better, I had to talk down my father from reporting it to the royal guard."

"But it was falling apart, Simon."

"Yes, but I didn't invite you to destroy it, did I? I said you could practice there. PRACTICE. Because you're too shy about doing it around your folks."

"I just don't want to worry Yemma. It would mortify her if she knew."

"Well, I guess she's learning today...isn't she?"

Asha winced at the dig,"I'm going to win this, Simon. I will restore my family's honor. And then, when I have the king's favor again, I will pay you three times over for the damages to your 'barn.'"

"Sure," he sighed, resting his hand on the pommel of the old sword he'd tied to his hip, "But I'll rely more on myself thanks," he slid the weapon out of its hilt and pointed to some invisible point above his sight line, "I shall take the tourney in stride and become a knight. I know it's my time Asha, I can feel it!" his grin reflected back at him in the broadside of the blade. For a second, the pox scars that marred his face disappeared in his exuberant expression. 

Simon had been an athlete since she'd met him. He loved sport and had spent most of his adolescence astride a horse, running self-made practice tourneys or jumping fences. That was until he had fallen ill the previous year. It had been a bad bout, and terrifyingly similar to what had taken Asha's father. He had gotten better, but the road to recovery was long. And all the while his exhaustion and returning appetite had conspired to make him lethargic and fat. He walked on unsteady feet and his swordplay was clumsy at best. But she couldn't blame him for being optimistic. Fore how often did a quincentenary celebration take place? Wouldn't that be the perfect venue to show his skills to the royal family? Surely, if Asha had a chance Simon also did? But the girl bit her tongue until the boy coughed in the awkward moment and sheathed his sword.

"Hey! I'm coming...I'm...coming!" A voice leapt out of the surrounding woods.

A stout little figure popped around the corner on the road ahead. Panting in the warm morning, Dahlia was a shade under a full-on gallop. Her face was flushed, and her arm strained against the crutch. Her short hair was plastered to her brow, the black fragments of hastily cut bangs still speckled her face.

"Hey! Cut that out!" Simon called to the approaching baker.

The girl stopped in her tracks, leaning hard on her crutch, "I-I'm sorry Simon."

"Nothing to be sorry about," he grumbled, strutting toward her, "You shouldn't be running is all. You'll get hurt."

"Oh...I suppose I would. I'm sorry, I wanted to make sure I didn't miss you two!"

"Like I said, nothing to be sorry about," the boy looked down at his feet and kicked the loose dirt.

"Well," smiling, she reached up to pat his arm, "You look dash-" her face flushed, "y-you look...awake," she finished with a swallow.

"Ah, well," he reached up to rub the back of his neck, "....thanks?"

"...yeah..." Dahlia rocked on her feet.

Asha cleared her throat as she peered around Simon, showing Dahlia a wide smile, "We should probably get going."

The boy grimaced at the interruption, but Dahlia was quick to take in her friend's new dress, "Oh Asha, it's beautiful! They won't be able to take their eyes off you!"

"I'm starting to think that was Yemma's plan," she spread the skirt before her, "It's not too much, is it?"

"No, not at all-"

"Alright, now I'm the one moving things along. Let's go!" Simon grouched. He reached over and grabbed a hold of Dahlia's hand, pulling her down the road after him. The baker's face burned bright read as she staggered after.

"S-Simon, you're walking too fast!"

The boy turned back, his face pink, "Oh..." his step slowed, matching the uneven tread of Dahlia's crutch. He let go of her hand, maneuvering his arm under hers and wrapping his thick fingers around her shoulder. The baker jumped at his touch, before settling into his hold. She fit there like a glove.

Asha sighed and followed behind. Her arms crossing over her stomach as her intestines started dancing the flamenco. This was really happening. She was going to see the king and attempt to impress him with her mediocre skills. She was going to stun him...amaze him...oh, what had she gotten herself into?! Her hands looped behind her neck and she hissed out the tightness in her chest.

"Oh Asha!" Dahlia called back to her friend, "You haven't been at court for a while. There are some things you need to know!"

"I think I've got it Dahlia," Asha held up her hand to stop the incoming speech. Her mind was spinning and that headache was crawling through her skull again.

"No Asha, you absolutely need to know-" The stout girl turned toward her chaperon, "Simon, I'm sorry, I can't keep looking back like this."

The boy stuttered to a halt. He stared down at the short girl for a second before blinking back to awareness. Sheepish, he untangled himself from her and cleared his throat.

Dahlia rubbed her upper arm before resuming the lesson, "There's certain etiquette you need to practice. Like, you can never turn your back on the king or the queen. You must always bow, and don't even think about eye contact-"

"DAHLIA!" Asha cut through the monologue. Her friend jumped at the rise of her voice, almost tripping over herself. The pitiful magician steadied her tone before continuing, "I said I got it."

"Sor-"

"Don't apologize Dahlia!" Simon snarled, "Asha's been a real troll today. Burning down my barn, then attacking you for helping her-"

"Wait!" the baker interrupted, "How could you burn down his barn?"

"How many times do I have to say it was an accident!?"

"Why would you do such a thing?"

"Look," Asha's hands jumped up to illustrate her point, "I was able to summon fire and it so happened to catch on the hay there. I put it out," she couldn't keep the victory of the moment from showing on her face, "And I was able to put it out with the river I summoned."

"You were able to cast two spells right after another?"

"More or less."

"Oh, Asha you are getting better!" Dahlia clapped, but upon looking over at Simon, her head snapped back with a frown, "But that's still no excuse for arson!"

"How can it be arson if it's a mistake?"

"Mistake or no, you still caused massive damage!" The boy interjected, stabbing his finger at Asha.

"Look, Simon-"

"Ok!" Dahlia got in between the two, her arm thrown up to stay the argument, "I have a fantastic idea! How about, after everything is done, we host a barn raising! Asha will lend her skills in-"

"I'm not letting her get anywhere near my place with her stardust."

"Ookkaaay, no problem. Asha knows how to use tools. Right Asha?"

"Not well," the girl pouted.

"Alright," the crutch came down on the ground with a clap, "We still do the barn raising, everyone helps as well as they can," her eyes shot in between her two friends, "And I will furnish it with enough food to put everyone in a good mood. Deal?"

Simon and Asha glared at each other. The boy was the first one to break the tension, "Fine by me."

"Asha?" Dahlia invited.

Her lips rose in a sneer, "We'll see."

"Well now, that's that. So we can-"

"I forgot something."

"Asha, really?!" Simon groused.

"One second, one second," she held up her hands as if to steady a shied horse, "It's just right over there."

Dahlia squinted in the direction that Asha had jabbed her thumb, "The well?"

But the girl's violet dress was flitting through the tree line before the baker uttered the last word.

Asha's hands slapped the lip of the well as she looked into the void below. She reached over, blind, as her fingers followed the bumps and crevices of the cool stone. Her touch grazed a particularly smooth rock, and she exclaimed in triumph. Digging her nails into the divot, she was able to dislodge the makeshift cork and pull out the items she had stowed there a week prior. A nondescript sack, a bundle of ribbons, and a peacock feather.

The sound of trounced grass came closer and closer. Asha quick slid the peacock feather into her pocket then bent down to tie the small sack to her ankle.

"Now we're really going to be late," Dahlia spoke up from behind her. Asha couldn't see her friend's face as she looked on, but the silence was palpable.

"Asha," she finally spoke, "Are those props?"

She flung her braids over her shoulder and continued to tighten the knot around her ankle, "It's just a little help."

"But you're not supposed to bring anything in. It's skill alone! Asha, you could get kicked out, humiliated-"

The girl finished off the knot with an aggressive tug before spinning around to answer, "And please illuminate me of what skills I possess," her words were sharpened against her teeth.

"So, you're going to cheat?!"

"Yes Dahlia," Asha looped the ribbons around her wrists, pulling them tighter than needed, "I'm cheating."

"But it's wrong."

"I've got a family to care for...last time I checked, yours were nice and cozy with the king," her eyes bored into Dahlia's, "Splendid to be in his favor...isn't it?" the last part came out in a hiss.

"It's still wrong," the girl's voice wobbled.

"Forgive me for not caring," she checked the knots on both wrists, satisfied in their strength, she mimed casting. Her arms flew around her, the ribbons following in a vibrant spectrum of color.

The baker shifted, her mouth tightening, "You're going to get in trouble."

Asha's teeth showed pearlescent in her grin, "Well, they'll have to catch me first." She stretched and marched back toward the road where Simon was waiting, shouting over her shoulder, "You coming?"

Dahlia stamped her foot. Frustration flared on her face as she watched the tall figure emerge into the sunlight. She could make out the shape of Simon as he peered into the trees wondering why she was dallying. With great effort, the baker tamped down her reservations and hobbled back to the path. Nursing the small seed of dread in her gut with every step.

Chapter Text

Banners of every color flew high over the castle walls. And under their windblown rainbow, three teens fought their way toward the tournament grounds.

A carnival atmosphere had infected the many spindly streets. Ribbons fluttered from entryways, song spilled out from pubs, and dull brick was stained with vivid dyes. But all the excited chatter became white noise as the trio squeezed, pivoted and ducked amid the tight press of bodies. The smells of spices and sugar wafted through the air, making Asha's mouth water. Only now her stomach released its knot and reminded her that she had skipped breakfast. She groaned internally, doing multiple calculations to try and find the time to eat...something. But the sound of horns dashed her hopes. It was the call to arms, the tournament was starting.

Dahlia shrieked, placing her hands against both her friend's backs, she gave them a shove.

"Go, I'm just going to hold you up! Go on!"

Asha broke into a dead run. Her slippers slapped against the cobblestones, their lightness and delicate ornamentation finding every ridge and catching upon each mishapen stone. Feeling the blooming pressure of blisters arise from each impact, the small thought of her sturdy boots crept into the girl's mind before she ran into the guard.

She caught herself before she plowed into the heavy breastplate, her sweat-slick face staring back from the polished iron. The impassive sentry regarded her with a sniff before once again staring off into the distance.

Panting, Asha rolled her shoulders back and planted her hands on her hips, "I'm here to compete good sir."

Simon waddled up to stop behind her with Dahlia in tow, "As am I."

The guard sniffed again, "Quite an...eclectic bunch. Pray, what events are you all...endeavoring."

"Magician's gambit," Asha raised her hand.

"Knight's tourney," Simon volunteered. Both voices mingling in their synchronized answer. The sentry paused for a second to decode what they had said. He took in the boy's pudgy figure and Asha's cascade of ribbons.

"Ah...they're hosting troubadours at these events too! Well, I guess it is a 500 year celebration!" he guffawed.

Asha's bottom jaw stuck out, "Are you going to grant us entry or not?"

"Of course, of course," he still was chuckling to himself as he pulled on the chain to open the champion's gate. With matching frowns, the three ducked under the half-open entryway to escape the snide comments. The hallway that met them was narrow and dim. Only the light at the top of the steps filtered down to illuminate their way. The distant rumble of cheers vibrated in every stone. Asha began the mount the thin steps with Simon following after before Dahlia exclaimed.

Both turned back to find the short girl digging through her pockets. After an elongated second of searching, she pulled out a simple white square cloth. She shuffled over to Simon, holding out the kerchief to him, "A token," she proclaimed like she had rehearsed it a million times, "Any good knight needs one...right?"

Simon stared at the bit of fabric in shock, "Dahlia..."

"It's rude to not accept tokens from a lady, you know!" her arm jutted out like a lance.

His lips pursed and he quick grabbed the kerchief from her. It disappeared between his beefy fingers, "I'm going to win this!"

"Of course you are," Dahlia whispered back.

Asha reached over to grab Simon's collar. He gagged with the sudden jerk.

"Come on!"

Rubbing his throat, he gave a timid wave to Dahlia before ascending the stairs. All the while, scowling in the magician's shadow.

****

With stiff back and bated breath, Asha sat in that magician's box regretting her decisions. Looking about her, she was met by jackals, lynx, and jaguars. They were those who'd cut their teeth on conflict and trained in deceit. Bold enough to challenge the galaxy....and win...or conceited enough to believe it. They were proper magicians and luxuriating in that fact. They reclined in their finery every one desiring...no... knowing they'd be picked. Despite their number reaching toward one hundred, there was not a doubt in any individual of their abilities. The girl wavered in the self-satisfied group who preened and gossiped.

Gossiped about her.

It was obvious in their half-smiles and snickers. Hands shot up, far from discrete, to whisper about the pathetic thing who'd managed to find a seat within their pantheon.

"Daughter of Tomás and Sakina."

"I heard she was rotten at magic."

"That's just a rumor."

"Well have you seen her about?"

"Can't say I have."

"She's hopeless, absolutely hopeless."

The girl ground her teeth, biding her time as impossible things passed before her.

One woman brought sea to land, sitting in a boat as she caught magical fish. A young man summoned an entire forest and invited knights to hunt the game he had created. And another recreated the scene of Hannibal crossing the alps. All this was at the whim of the monarch whom presided over all. Whether it be a giant chess game or a parade of magical creatures, every competitor delivered. And the more Asha watched, the sicker she became. Her ribbons tawdry in the shadow of these masters.

"Well, don't we have a little performer on our hands?"

The girl felt a tug on her right wrist and her eyes swung over to the assailant. She was a woman who appeared to be in her twenties, but with the influence of stardust, it was anyone's guess how old she actually was. Her black hair was veiled, and an assortment of gold jewelry decorated her wrists and neck.

Asha blinked. Why, she knew who this was! Swallowing a laugh, she bit down on the inside of her cheek, Oh, look at Luisa, the wife of a butcher pretending to be nobility!

A coy smile played upon Luisa's lips as she pulled harder, jerking the girl's entire arm toward her, "How cute, I didn't know children were vying for the king's attention."

Asha's eyebrow raised at the challenge. Her tongue ran over her teeth before she hissed, "And I don't know how your husband tells you apart from his hogs, Señora."

Splotches of red rose hot upon the woman's complexion, "Why you!" Veins bulging, she lunged. But Asha was nimble, jumping out of her seat and far from those avenging nails.

Left to tumble through empty air, Luisa's fall was eventually broken by the lap of a different competitor. Unfortunately for the scorned woman he was not one for surprises, and her nose was broken with the jerk of an elbow.

Blood arced as Luisa reeled back, speckling those around her. She fell amidst rich skirts and bright trousers, scrambling and sliding in that narrow crevice until she righted with red upon her chin and burgundy spittle on her lips. Anger sharpened her vision, brilliant, bright, and red....red....RED!

With a labored growl, clawed fingers found Sakina's careful hem-work...and pulled.

Thread tore and Asha screamed. Then something wrapped around her neck. She spluttered, grabbing at it she found skin. An arm! Who? She couldn't tell. It could be anyone....all of them. It squeezed tighter and she choked, clawing at the faceless foe.

But blood had been spilt upon the stands. And like the swarming of many sharks upon a wounded sea beast...so too did one hunter fall upon another.

Writhing forms punched and kicked their way through their fellow competition. One magician swallowed teeth after a fist found his - admittedly punchable - face.

Another had her velvet skirt jerked over her head as she was pummeled. Though it only lasted for so long, able to halt the battery, her knee aimed for what counted and two more magicians dropped.

Then there was a particularly unfortunate soul who was volleyed far into the stadium. The poor sod-become-projectile careened through a troupe of dancers, scattering the stardust- sculpted illusion on impact. The performing magician shrieked with rage. All previous pomp done away with as she hurled vulgarities at the injured man, kicking his limp body to uproarus applause.

"More, more," the audience chanted.

"More, more," the magicians tasted victory.

And above it all sat King Magnifico, looking on with vague interest. He glanced over at his wife and snickered. Amaya lifted a delicate hand over her mouth to hide her unladylike grin. By far this had to be the most interesting this event had been. Thank goodness their seats were far away from the riff-raff, he had been fighting off sleep for a majority of the tournament. The king took the moment to stretch and let out a particularly dramatic yawn. Settling back into his illustrious seat he squinted down at the brawl, picking out one small figure in the middle of it. The glint of a purple dress stood out amongst the golds and reds that ran through the rest of the magician's box. Magnifico snorted, cheeky little thing. His tongue clicked in thought before he settled back down into his chair and waived over his steward.

"Yes, your majesty," the elderly man quaked.

"That Señorita down there in purple, what is her name?"

The old man squinted over the balcony and into the tumult below. His fingers tapped together, "Why, I believe that is Asha. Daughter of Tomás. Previous court magician of yours, your majesty."

The king tapped the arm of his chair, "His loss was a tragedy," he mused, looking toward his wife, "Curious that we haven't seen her at court."

"Indeed," the lithe woman purred, "Though with her manner, it doesn't appear that she'd be suited for it."

Magnifico ran his hand over his beard, feeling the cool metal of the ring against his jaw, "She does like to fight, doesn't she?"

The monarch rose again and spread his arms in a welcoming gesture, "Stop this violence good people of Rosas!" his voice boomed around the structure. Every single limb was stilled by his command. The king's chest filled with pride at this power, "I call Asha, daughter of Tomás, to trial!"

Asha's stomach hit the floor. Was it time already? Her eyes stared up at the royal couple seated in their marble balcony. She swallowed and picked her way over the collection of battered and bruised magicians. All glaring and hissing as she passed. She exited the stands and walked the long path to the raised pedestal. She could hear her heart beating in her ears as she approached the stardust-filled basin waiting there. She breathed and stuck her hands in, the golden powder burning and popping against her skin.

"Watch me Papa," she whispered before taking her place at the center of the arena.

Under the boiling sun, she dropped into a deep curtsy. With her head bowed, she watched tiny droplets of sweat fall and speckle the sand at her feet. Her shuddering breaths filled the silence as she felt the eyes of the distant king burning through her.

"Señorita, it seems you have a taste for combat," his voice rattled her bones. She stayed frozen in her fealty. Her tongue dutifully nailed down.

The king continued, "Far be it from me to not fulfill the desires of my citizens, I believe I have the perfect opponent for you," he snapped his fingers and shadows, cast by royal attendants, scurried to the other side of the amphitheater, "I was going to save this for our knight's tourney, but it seems he will come to good use here."

There was the sound of stomping and snorting. The bars on the far end of the arena spewed dust.

"I have a simple challenge for you, Asha daughter of Tomás," the gate rose, creaking and clinking as the heavy chains were drawn up. The monarch's voice dropped into a throaty chuckle, "Take care of the bull before he takes care of you."

"What!" her eyes shot up to meet the king's before a tremendous bellow emitted from beyond the open gate. A spattering of screams went through the crowd. Asha was sure her mother was one of them.

The great beast came forth, all muscle and horn, bellowing again. The ring in his nose glistened, thick from the vapors that clouded about his snout. She gulped. He heard it. Giant head swinging around, red eyes found hers, and charged.

Asha yelped, spinning on her heels she stumbled, scrambled, sprinted for her life. The sand below grabbed at her feet, tripping her, slowing her, while the galloping hooves got closer....closer...closer!

She hit the barricade hard. Fear propelling her over, she spilled onto the spectators right before the bull plunged his horns into the wood siding. Dazed, but still very angry, the creature snarled and wrenched itself free. He reversed course and ran around the empty arena in search of his missing prey.

The girl rose slowly from the floor, peeking over the short wall that had saved her life. In the second it took for her to discern where the beast was, the crowd behind grabbed hold of her arms.

"Hey, wait!" she cried before being pitched back into the ring. She landed face first, sand filling her mouth. She picked up her head and spat. The bull snorted. Pivoting tight, he kicked up a volley, then charged Asha again.

The girl sat up. Scrambling back, she reached for the peacock feather she had stowed. Somehow in her panic she found it and held it before her. The bull was bearing down. Her brain attempted to recall a hundred different spells, but nothing came. It wasn't until she could feel the spittle that one erupted from her lips.

"PULUHTU!"

The stardust covering her hands glowed and the feather grew. Stretching toward the sky, the circular pattern pulled wide before blinking and revealing a red cornea. The crowd gasped at the sight.

It was the evil eye - only an image to be sure - but there still, holding the precious inches that remained between Asha and the bull.

The beast dug in his hooves and skidded to a halt. He stared down the massive specter. Breathing malice, he tested it ever-so-slightly with his horns.

The girl edged away on the butt of her hands, the stardust spent and falling into the sand beneath her. She looked back toward the pedestal. She needed more. Her teeth clenched, she shifted her weight forward, and before the bull could think twice, she bolted.

But the beast was quick. Rearing back, his head plunged through the spell, dissolving the image and her chance. There was a roar, then the ground trembled as hooves pounded and sand errupted. Dust at her heels, the girl knew he approached. He was faster. Much faster. Angrier. She swallowed against grit before turning back to check the distance. But there was none. Only his breath, his face, and his eyes mad and rolling.

She wasn't going to make it.

"PAPA!" she screamed.

DUCK MIJA!

Asha dropped, covering her head as the bull soared over her. He kept galloping, narrowly missing collision with the pedestal. He circled back around, once again targeting her. The girl reached for the pouch at her ankle, all but ripping it apart in her frenzy. She held it aloft and prayed that she had enough stardust left on her hands.

"IZI!" she hollered before throwing the bag.

The canvas started to melt away in midair as the gunpowder hidden inside ignited. The fiery fallout rained over the approaching creature. He stopped and stamped his hooves in panic as the embers burned his hide. The girl took that moment to sprint the rest of the way to the basin. She was upon the steps on all fours, reaching toward the stardust...only.....just......

But the beast collided with the column.

She was thrown, her back hitting the stone lip. Her vision went white. She screamed. Then she was rolling over onto her stomach. Her fingers dug deep into the sand. Fire in her spine, poison in her shoulders, legions of arrows dancing upon her nerves and puncturing her bones. She couldn't think...she couldn't see...why....

She blinked, and through fuzzy sight she saw the shape of the bull looming over her. Wheezing, its breath stirred the hair atop her head. With some difficulty, she looked to the stardust....or lack thereof....fore she beheld only the basin, upside down and empty.

Doomed, the thought slide cold through her brain, sailing upon waves of agony. Doomed, she pulled her head back to stare into the bull's red glare.

"Doomed," she sighed, as she closed her eyes and braced for the inevitable.

Mija...MIJA! Don't give up!!! What happened when you fell?

"Pain...it hurts..."

Not that! What did you fall with?

"Basin...the basin...OH!"

She could feel the grit against her face, on her arms, between her fingers. She was covered in stardust.

She smiled.

The creature reared, his horns making the final descent. But the bull only drove his head into the arena floor. Asha, having rolled away at the last second, fought to rise to her knees.

Recite with me, mija!

"DRACO!"

Her entire body glowed. The ribbons at her wrists untied themselves and spun above her head. Golden threads leapt out, knitting the thin strips of fabric together. They spiraled, braided, stretched and tugged, until the dragon rose to its full height. With a panicked cry, the bovine turned tail and raced away. The massive serpentine monster followed after, snapping at the heels of the once-great beast. The pair shot around the arena twice before the bull finally dove for the safety of the gate.

But the dragon continued its flight, shooting straight up from where the bull exited into the upper stories of the amphitheater.

And to Asha's dismay, it curved around and rushed the royal balcony.

Queen Amaya let out a blood-curdling scream. The king leapt to her rescue, with a wave of his hand the illusion fell to sand. Breathing hard, he looked down upon the battle-worn girl. She met his gaze. And despite the distance, he knew she wasn't blinking. In the silence that fell, he saw the guards start to close in, their weapons raised in warning.

"STOP!" Magnifico's voice boomed in the open air. His arm rose, pointing down at the young magician, "Asha, daughter of Tomás!" he called, "You shall be my apprentice!"

Chapter Text

Everything was happening somewhere else...to someone else. Not her. Never her. Far away figures celebrated, ribbons were thrown, a chant was started and grew. Her name? No...not possible. But louder and louder it rose, shaking the stands, the earth, her. She looked to the towering walls above, banners danced, their colors blurring. It couldn't be....could it?

But..

Deep within, where her pain waxed and her adrenaline waned, realization sparked, flared, then burned. She had won. Doubters be damned, she had WON! Joy bubbled in her chest and charged forth from her lips. Shrill and manic, it mixed with the thunderous noises around her. She cupped her hands over her mouth to preserve some decorum, but the laughter continued, bounding, racing, spinning about her in the open air. It was a tapastry of delight, completed and hung high over her, a testament to her unceasing worry and want. And with its creation, it freed her from strife...letting her breathe. Oh, how she could finally breathe. She filled her lungs with that sweet air, letting another laugh loose...

Rough hands disturbed her. Bruising her shoulders, they wrenched her backwards and up. Her teeth slammed together as her back was stretched like taffy. Her feet met the ground hard, the impact jarring her knees. With a gasp she buckled only to be jerked up again, and held there in agony.

"Bow to your king," a gruff voice barked in her ear.

The girl's breath was shallow. Dropping into a deep bow, her muscles screamed. She held that position for a torturous ten seconds before the knights pulled her back up and marched her out of the arena.

Dahlia met Asha at the champion's gate. Her eyes misty, she made a sound somewhere between a kitten's mew and a smothered cry.

"Oh Asha!" she exclaimed, her crutch forgotten, it was left to clatter against the cobbles as she crushed the magician in her embrace.

"Dah-lia," Asha gasped, "it...hurts."

"Oh!" the short girl stumbled back. Arms wheeling, her face went white as she groped, blind, for the crutch that wasn't there. Another cry, this one wispy and meek as the dregs of her balance dissapated and she started to tip too far...

"Whoa!" Asha leapt forward and grabbed hold of her friend's outstretched hand.

"T-Thank you!"

"No problem," the magician winced as pain drew its claws down her back, "Let's move to a better place, huh?"

The baker nodded, her hands trembling in Asha's hold as they edged their way over to a nearby stone column. Dahlia's fingers tested the air. Twitching in the afternoon sun before finally letting go of her friend and holding tight to the marble pillar. Breathing hard, the cold stone was blissfully solid.

Despite the discomfort, and unyeilding tightness of her muscles, Asha was able to retrieve the fallen crutch rather quickly. Dahlia sighed once it was in her hands again. In a blink, it was tucked back under her arm, and she was standing fine, her hair flicked from her face as she did.

With her balance restored the baker went back to her tittering, "We're going to see so much of each other now! I can't wait! You were brilliant Asha, absolutely brilliant!" her voice dropped to a whisper, "I mean, if I hadn't known you were using props, I wouldn't have been able to tell! Excellent, excellent performance!"

"Yeah," the girl's veins turned cold. That's right, she did have to use props, didn't she? In her exuberance she had forgotten that she'd had to stack the deck in her favor. Asha pulled at one of her sand-covered braids, running her hand over it again and again. A tournament was one thing, but she'd be under the king's watchful eye for the days, months, and years it took her to learn. There would be questions...suspicions...

She was going to be sick.

"We should probably go find your mother; I know she'll be just as excit-"

The horns sounded again. Their tune played in long notes followed by three short trills. The crowd hushed, excited whispers filtering through the still air. Then a parade emerged from the other side of the amphitheater. Chestnut horses filed out, prancing with pride as their riders sat astride, broad-chested and clad in armor. Each champion held a flag depicting his family crest. The intricate designs flapped despite the stagnate air as the knights willed their steeds to circle the arena. Bringing up the rear was a particularly large knight, whose horse was not very happy to be carrying him.

"It's Simon!" Dahlia whooped.

"Look at him," Asha mused, still cradling her self-doubt.

She watched the portly knight line up with his fellow brethren. His armour that of layered wool accented by metal, he had been able to scrounge (or perhaps, pilfer) a helmet. Enough to obscure his identity so his crest could speak for him. And speak it did, flapping wildly behind, a fish swam within a backdrop of blue, vignetted in the berry-laden leaves of the hawthorn.

It was a show of equestrian prowess which opened the tourney. Eager riders urged their mounts toward higher and higher jumps, their increasingly treacherous obstacles summoned by Magnifico as his booming voice chased them around the arena. With each fall of stardust there were flying swords, then jets of fire, then lava-filled pits. Some obstacles were even living; a polar bear was stunned to see an inky stallion clear its knashing teeth while a crocodile sat waiting for a meal that would never come, fore each horse was able to fly over all that landed in their path. Even Simon's beleaguered steed cleared the most intimidating of barriers. Dahlia clapped at each success. With another blow of the horns the champions fell back into formation.

The king stood and clapped his hands, "Very good, very good indeed. Now we will show our audience something more traditional. The joust!" his hands shown bright with stardust as he waved away the perilous jumps to reveal the new course. The knights were quick to take up arms, each holding a wooden lance. Simon had tied Dahlia's kerchief to the end of his. The champions went two at a time, charging at high speeds on opposite sides of the wooden fence. The weapons broke upon impact, sometimes throwing the rider from his horse and other times not. The baker watched the performances with her eyes wide, oohing and aahing at the spectacle. Asha stood behind her friend, chewing on her lip.

Dahlia hollered when Simon was called. His helmeted head swung in the direction of the yell, and through the narrow slit allowed for his eyes, he saw the exuberant girl and gave her a wave. She blushed at the attention, but the boy didn't see, he was already positioning his steed at the start of the joust. The crowd whistled and whooped as both parties adjusted their shields and slowly lowered their lances. With the clear signal from the king, the two opponents spurred their horses and charged toward each other.

"Oh, I can't look!" Dahlia whimpered, turning her head away.

Simon's horse panted and strained, somehow pulling off a gallop. But the determined horse was no match for the opposing steed. The other horse was lightning quick, his rider tall and slim; the pair of them cut through the air like a sail. The opponent's movements were confidant, he adjusted his jousting rod at the last second. The length of a hair was enough to guarantee the outcome. The spear splintered as it hit Simon's chest, his shield held too low to protect him. The opponent raced past but Simon's horse stumbled to a halt as the boy toppled over and landed on ground. He lay there, arms out to his side, blinking at the sky.

"What happened?" the baker asked, her head still turned.

"It's over," Asha sighed.

"What?" Dahlia turned back to see the defeated Simon still laying on his back. His rival now leapt down from his horse and drew his sword. He looked over to the rotund fellow in confusion. Casual in his approach, he walked right up the boy and pointed the blade at his throat.

"Your move sir," the champion spoke through his visor.

But Simon continued to lay there, the only discernible movement coming from his chest as he breathed.

"Oh no...Simon get up!" Dahlia whimpered.

The opponent spun around and bowed to King Magnifico, "It appears that my foe has been vanquished your majesty!"

"Get up. Get up!"

"So it does," the monarch's voice boomed, "Then this trial has been declared!"

"GET UP!"

Simon shot up to a sitting position. Both girls held their breath. The boy rose in the silence of the perplexed crowd. Ramrod straight, he turned and bowed to the king before marching out of the arena.

"Oh no," the baker whispered.

He reached up to close his helmet, jostled open from the fall. The victorious knight behind him raised his sword in the air to the deafening applause of the crowd. The boy put his head down and quickened his pace. He fast approached the champion's gate. Dahlia attempted to reach out when he was within arm's length.

"Simon-"

He jerked away from her and shot down the stone steps, away from the celebration above. Asha looked back toward the arena. They had already called another joust. Dahlia's kerchief tumbled along the ground, eventually crushed beneath the hooves of a charging horse.

****

The queen sat in front of the ornate mirror, passing a comb through her hair. She gazed at her reflection, pleased with the woman who smiled back. Her skin was as smooth and clear as it had been five hundred years before. For a time, she had looked for wrinkles or the occasional gray hair. But as centuries elapsed, she became comfortable in her immortality. She turned her head from side to side, her hair fell over her shoulder in a cascade of smoky brown.

"Admiring yourself again, cariña?" Magnifico's firm hands gripped her shoulders as he kissed her head. His reflection smiled at her, eyes glinting.

Amaya took his hands and crossed them over her chest, "Tell me how beautiful I am."

The king leaned over, his head next to hers as they both gazed into the mirror, "More beautiful than all the stars in the galaxy. Far more gorgeous than the sun, and a rival to any rose that would dare bloom in your presence."

She reached back and touched his cheek, "And you are as fierce as the lions of Rome. Greater than the mountains in the east and stronger than oak, forever may you reign."

At that Magnifico stood up and away from his wife. He sighed through his nose, his fingers running through his hair in thought. With a heavy brow, he drew off his cape and fell into a waiting chair, "I'm getting old Cassie."

The queen turned with a start, looking upon the back of her husband's head as he stared into the empty fireplace. The sun that cut through the slight gap in the curtains caught the silver in his hair. Her throat became thick, "You know how I despise this conversation."

"As do I, but it must be had."

"We've had it enough!" the queen turned away and started to plait her hair. Her fingers worked like spiders, her movements furious and rigid.

The king looked down at the simple ring on his thumb. The one from so long ago, gifted by a man whom he no longer remembered. He spun it, "Five hundred and fifty years is a wonderfully long time to live and I'm sure I'll be entitled to five hundred more," He turned to look at Amaya, "But what happens to you when the stardust eventually fails me? I can't keep this sun burning past my time here."

"So that's why you're taking on that bumbling creature?" his wife hissed.

"She will do well by you. I know it."

"You do?" she chuckled, yanking the last strands into place, "Well, by your behavior today, I could have been fooled. You should have followed through and punished that insolent little thing like she deserved."

Magnifico grunted, "It was close. One more second and I would have brought the trial to an end. Remarkable young woman," he shook his head in amazement.

Amaya's snide smile eclipsed. Her eyes burned as she stood from her stool and marched over to her husband. She crossed in front of him and placed both her hands over the decorative arms of the chair. Leaning over the man her voice was low, "I will never accept such a wretched little girl."

Magnifico grinned, leaning forward so that his face was a mere inch away from hers, "Mi Amor, won't you do this for me?"

She gazed into his ice blue eyes and shivered. Standing there, she admired the man she had the pleasure of ruling alongside. She had been in his embrace countless times, kissed him and held him in turn. But no matter how close she came to him, there was still a distance she could never cross. As they stared into each other, she wondered what his breath felt like as it caressed her face. She sighed and fell into him, pressing her lips to his, "I'll bear it," she spoke into his mouth. He accepted the queen into his arms, and they held each other, their minds heavy with the future.

"There's just one question I have," Amaya whispered to him as he caught his breath.

His eyebrow raised, inviting her to proceed.

"How does a girl as young as her know who Draco is?"

The king had no answer. The question ran circles around his mind as Amaya once again bent down for a kiss.

Chapter Text

Asha never met with the king. It was odd, she expected some sort of direction or gesture of congratulations, but the royal couple had retreated with the end of the tournament. Sakina was indifferent to the breach in etiquette, she was too elated from her daughter's success. Of course, she would have preferred that she hadn't flirted with ill fortune by summoning that atrocious eye, but it was easy to forgive in lieu of the outcome. She spent the rest of the event fawning over Asha, turning to those familiar faces in the stands and praising her as loudly as she could. Every boast felt like a knife in the girl's gut. No matter what wondrous scenes played out in the arena below, Asha's fear was always there. It felt like a snake wrapped around her throat, hissing in her ear as it squeezed tighter and tighter.

When the final act bowed, it was a relief to get up and move with the dissolving crowd. But a short ten feet to the exit, and freedom beyond, a smartly dressed man stopped her. He was clad in white and blue, and on his chest he bore the kingdom crest, "Asha, I presume," he spoke with a formal air.

"Yes indeed!" her mother interjected, "This is my daughter, Asha, apprentice to the royal family."

The girl cringed.

"Ah," the man cleared his throat, "Well, I was instructed to give you this," he revealed a small scroll with golden edges, "It's your summons."

Asha accepted the parchment, fighting to keep her hand from shaking as she took it from the attendant's open palm.

"You will have an escort meet you at your residence when the sun resides in the northeast. Is that understood?"

Both mother and daughter shook their heads.

"Magnificent, now I also must issue you a personal apology from the king. He regrets that he cannot meet you this evening as he is busy with other matters. However, he wished me to congratulate you on his behalf and to apologize for any bodily injury that may have occurred in the ring. It was not his desire to harm, only to challenge," the page inclined his head in a slight bow, "Do you accept?"

"Oh...yes...yes of course," Asha's tongue stumbled out.

The attendant gave a quick nod than bid them farewell before marching off to other tasks.

Mother and daughter made their way home. All the while Sakina was jabbering and clapping her way down the street. Asha wished she could match her mother's energy, but between the bull fight and her building anxiety, even smiling was a chore. But she did it anyway, a small part of her happy that she could bring joy to those distant eyes, even if only for a day.

The girl blinked, waving away the thought. Why only a day? Surely, she could bluff her way through for a little while longer? She squared her shoulders, maybe a week, maybe a month, maybe even a year. However long she had, she would make it count. If only to give her family a little happiness. It would have been what Papa would have wanted.

They crossed the threshold of the house one after the other. Entering with the usual rituals. The inside of the house was dim. The fuzzy outline of Sabino could be seen, still sitting in his same stool.

"Baba?!" Sakina scolded as she scurried over to the nearest window and threw back the curtains, "Have you been sitting in the dark all day?"

"Too much sunlight hurts these old eyes," he grumbled. In his hands was a small bit of rope which he'd been worrying the past several hours. His fingers were currently untying the knot he had created only moments before the mother and daughter returned.

Asha went over to the old man and rested her hand over his, stopping his handiwork, "I missed you at the tournament today, Baba."

"Ah mijita, you know how these legs of mine are. Too long of a distance and too many stairs..." he looked upon his granddaughter and paused. Tremoring fingers reached up, his hand patted her cheek, "What a woman you're growing into. I'm sure you were the envy of the event, no matter how poorly it went-"

"Oh no Baba," Sakina chirped from behind the girl, "Habibti, show him."

The old man withdrew his affectionate gesture, "Show me what?"

The girl's smile was wide as she placed the scroll into Sabino's waiting hands. Curious, he opened it and studied the writing within. She could see his eyes dart from sentence to sentence, growing smaller and smaller until they were but slits. So much so, that when he reached the end of the summons, his heavy brow shadowed all else.

He let the parchment drop upon the table before turning his head to spit, "Peacock," he sneered.

Asha grabbed the scroll and knelt in front of the old man, "Don't you see Baba?" she laid it on his lap, "I can provide for you now, we will have the king's favor again! We'll have money and means and-"

"And we'll be servants!" her grandfather threw the scroll to the floor. Asha yelped and dove for it, but he planted his heel to pin it, "Asha! Stop scrambling like a beggar!"

"But Baba, I need it for tomorrow!"

"If you had sense, you would burn it!"

"Stop this foolishness right now!" Sakina shouted, "Don't you know that Asha is trying to succeed, to excel? To help us?"

"To help you Sakina," Sabino turned to the mother, "She never had to be anything more in my eyes."

The girl finally pulled the parchment free. Falling back from the sudden release, she continued to scramble away, anxious fingers rolling up the scroll, "Baba, I am doing it for you..." she hugged the summons tight, "...for both of you. Papa-"

"My son would have never wanted his daughter to grovel! How ashamed he'd be to see you in such a state!"

"But Baba!"

"You foolish little thing! I don't know how you were able to catch that devil's eye, and I don't care to know! But I forbid you from studying under a snake like him!"

Asha's vision turned red, she set her jaw and stood, looking down at the old man in the chair, "I refuse to obey!"

"And how do you think you're going to keep this apprenticeship?! Charm? Wit? You can barely use stardust Asha! You'll be disgraced! We'll all be! You'll bring us to ruin!"

"That's not true!"

"True...true...then what IS true, Asha? TELL ME! Are you not satisfied?! Are you not happy?!! We have a good life here! We don't need anything more! This...this godforsaken stardust...this magic," Sabino spat, "It's unnatural. Evil! You should be grateful some lucky star made you inept!"

"Sabino, you wretched little man! Stop this!" Sakina screamed. In her anger she leapt forward and gripped his shoulders. The old man looked down at where her hands held him in a vise. His eyes met hers, dark and rolling.

"She will never be Tomás."

Sakina gasped, backing away, her heel hit the washtub and she crumbled there. A shaking hand covered her mouth and she wept.

Asha stood there frozen, looking between her mother and her grandfather. With a fire roaring to life within her, she stepped in between the two. She stared down Sabino. Who was he to tell her what to do? Couldn't he see that everything she did was for her family. For him? She felt as if she was breathing smoke with every molten word that dripped from her lips, "Baba...how could you?"

Sabino blinked, the rage abating at his granddaughter's words. But Asha was already wrapping a shawl around herself. She threw open the door and ran out to the world beyond. She could hear her name being called, but whether it was by her mother or her grandfather, she didn't care. Her arms pumped as she ran down the dirt path, toward the ocean which ringed the horizon.

She forgot her aching muscles as she slid through the small crevice and into the grotto below. The mooring lines yanked free, she threw herself into the waiting boat and rowed into the gray of early evening. Past the cliff, past the sea stacks, and far out into the open ocean. Her arms, back, and shoulders screamed. The wind, harsh and cutting, lashed at her face, while the boat crested and fell upon the knife's edge of each blackened wave, her stomach sloshing along with it.

But she kept on rowing, one mantra issuing from her lips, "Where the sea meets the sky, where the sea meets the sky."

That was, if her grandfather was to be believed. But she smothered the thought. This was it. She could either stumble through, and ultimately fail, her apprenticeship on her own. Or she could follow a fairytale and hope there was some truth to it. She grit her teeth as a massive wave slammed against the side of the small boat and nearly rolled it over. Her fingernails bit into the oars. This was her only chance, and she wasn't keen to lose it.

Gray evening became gray night as thick clouds rolled in to obscure the ascending stars. Asha cried in dismay before a sheet of cold water fell down upon her and her small craft. Drowning in the onslaught, the girl was blind to her surroundings. What was north, what was south? Where Rosas was and wasn't? Everything was blurry, cold, and black. She shivered, no longer feeling her arms in their constant circular motion. She had the passing idea to turn back, but it was ruled out when another wave hit the bow and sent the vessel spinning. Asha gasped and lost her grip on the rain-slick oars. She grappled for them in the wet abyss but came up empty. At the mercy of the storm, her little boat was skipped across the water like a stone. She fell to the belly of the vessel and hugged the seat tight. Her eyes squeezed shut as the barrage continued. Sea water sloped into the boat, plugging up her nose and mouth. Coughing and spitting up brine, she cried out for her father, but all that answered was the howling wind.

Then silence.

The boat made one last turn then drifted smooth. The girl opened her eyes. Trembling, she pulled herself up and looked to the sky.

The stars were blinding. Framed by the blurry border of the tempest, they were lantern lights floating, teasing her. So close, maybe she could...

Blue capped fingers reached toward the wonders above only to be struck down by the frostbitten air. She shuddered, flinching from that celestial world, she curled into herself. Heavens above it was freezing! Her dampened clothes welcomed the chill, boring through her skin, her muscles, her bones, to turn her marrow to brittle ice and her blood sludge-slow in her veins. Teeth chattering, she pulled the sodden shawl closer. Around her was the hurricane, threatening to finish her, to pound her into dust with its thunder rain and fury wind. But it stayed at the edges, watching, waiting...for what? Her breath plumed and she saw its twin below. She looked down. Staring back was her half-drowned image, stark against a mirror glass sea, unblemished by wave or ripple.

Breathing against the still, she realized where she was. Careful and slow, she tilted her face back to those curiously low stars. Another breath and her eyes closed. This was it. No more doubt. No more fear. Somewhere in the Mediterranean, she dared to ask.

But after a few frigid minutes...nothing happened.

She crumbled. She didn't know what she'd been expecting, but the silence that answered dealt the fatal blow. She was foolish, daft! Following after fairytales, after stars? What could she expect from bedtime stories?

"Nothing," her voice caught.

"Nothing," her throat closed.

"Noth-" her head fell into her hands, and she started to cry.

That was it, she was lost! And even if she could find her way back home, she would be a disgrace. A joke. The girl who fooled the king! She wailed. Oh how she'd pay for her slight against the royal fam-

"Salvē!

The girl turned and her breath caught.

Chapter Text

"Salvē!" The golden specter repeated.

She was in shock. That had to be it. All that tossing around in the water must have shaken her insides around enough to make her see things. She blinked a few times, but he was still there, looking even more confused than her.

"Quid...agis?"

She rubbed her eyes. Surely her grandfather had been exaggerating, there was no way that the stars looked like-

The glowing face of the boy filled her vision, "Valēsne?"

She screamed, ripped off her shoe, and lobbed it at the intruder.

With a yell of his own, he dove over the side. Hiding, but not well, golden hair poked over the edge of the hull.

Asha yanked off her other shoe. Holding it aloft, she had one foot planted firm on the seat and the other ready to run....or rather swim. She gulped.

Straining to peer over the side, she tried to sound fierce, "What are you?"

Her other shoe popped into view, caught in the hands of the specter, "Ah Castilian...got it!" the rest of him then rose up, cautious of the next artillery barrage, "That's a newer language. I'm a bit rusty with that one. Are you sure you don't speak Latin?" he punctuated his sentence by jabbing the shoe at her.

Asha tensed; the twin slipper rose higher.

He placed his free hand in his pocket, "I guess not," he balanced on the tip of the bow. He bent down, almost as if in reverence, matching the girl's eye level, "But you speak it in a Catalan accent. How fascinating...where do you hail from?"

The girl kept her silence.

"Ah," the stranger's face fell, "I see you're not much of a talker."

"What are you?"

The boy's posture jumped to correct itself, "Who is a better question! The name's Sol!" the hand he stretched out in greeting was the one holding the slipper, "Oh, ah! I guess you'll be wanting this, huh?"

The girl's eyebrows knit together, but she said nothing.

The boy whistled in the silence, his gaze never settling. It darted to the boat, the sea, the sky, the shoe, the girl, then back to the sky again. After recognizing her continued unease, he sighed and sat down in the seat across from her.

That was too much for Asha to take. With another scream she threw the matching slipper at him. The boy caught it before it could hit its mark, "Is this a custom of yours?"

Finding herself disarmed, the girl's fists clenched then relaxed, then repeated. She shifted, uneasy on her feet, as her brain came around to the fact that this spectral intruder had yet to do her harm.

During her sluggish epiphany, Sol shrugged and placed both shoes in the belly of the boat, "Well..." he prompted, "You know my name, how about yours?"

"Asha."

"Asha, A-sha," the boy twirled the name around his mouth, "Kinda pretty...I thought you wanted to make a wish, Asha?"

She froze in her nervous sway. Staring down at her celestial guest as he proceeded to get comfortable and brace both elbows on either side of the vessel, "Y-You're really a star?"

"Well, yeah. Isn't this why we're talking in the first place?"

"An honest to goodness star, who can grant...wishes?"

"Yes."

"Huh," Asha took a ginger step forward. She leaned over the boy, examining his shimmering veneer, his cloak cut from the rich indigo of the night sky, and that playful smile that never fell from his lips. She skewed her mouth to the side and poked his cheek.

His eyebrow raised, "What? Am I not what you were expecting?"

"Not exactly," she straightened up, her finger tapping her chin, "I was thinking you'd be something...I dunno...smaller? More..." her hand spun in the air, searching for the word, "...inanimate."

"Ah, those astronomers. Spreading rumors again," the boy shook his head, "Not that I can blame them, we don't really get to sit down and talk that often. How would they know, right?"

"Right..."

"By the way, how's that whole empire-thing going?"

"Empire?"

"You know...Rome...we are in the Mediterranean, aren't we?"

"We are but..."

"Ah, so you must know all about it. Tell me, what emperor is on the throne? Last time I was here there was a guy I knew who-"

"I've never heard of such a kingdom."

Disbelief flashed across his face, "Rome, you know... Romulus and Remus. The great centurions...the Colosseum?"

Asha answered each prompt with a firm shake of her head.

The boy sank into himself, reaching up, he ran a luminescent hand through his hair, "What year is it?"

The girl's forehead wrinkled, "1405, by our calendar at least."

"Oh," his sight drifted to the black water below, "I've been away for a long time, huh?"

"Been away?"

Sol looked back at the girl with a start. But it was only for a moment because composure came fast, falling upon him like a curtain. A breath, then his smile cracked bright as he waved away Asha's question, "No use getting caught up in the past. Now, don't you have a wish?"

"Oh! Yes, yes I do!" she plopped herself down on the seat across from him, her hands clasped together and bouncing in her lap. She opened her mouth but then thought better of it. Running through all the different ways she ought to phrase it, she swallowed, "Ok...I've never done this before..."

The star chuckled, his eyes rolling with an answer he must have muttered a thousand times, "No one ever does, you only get one after all."

"One...one...ok," The girl gripped her knees tight. She breathed in, it was now or never, "I wish to have power as great as the stars!"

The boy, who'd been leaning toward her in anticipation, shifted away then. He rested his chin in his palm and looked out into the swirling cyclone that surrounded them, "Ah, why do humans always wish for power?" he moped.

"Well?"

Sol glanced back at the girl, his expression bland, "I can't grant that one."

"Excuse me?" her voice rose, "Can't or won't?"

"Fine. Won't," his golden eyes cut right through her, "I've granted plenty of bad wishes in my time, and trust me, that's one of the worst. It never ends well."

Asha shot up, set her hands upon her hips, and seethed, "Look, I've had a very long day. I woke up late, was chased by an angry bull, got chewed out just because I became the king's apprentice-"

"Congratulations on your promotion," Sol interrupted, still guarded.

"Thank you," Asha allowed before continuing, "And got lost in a hurricane. So, I'm a little...stressed, ok?" she started to pace in the small space between the seats. The boat bobbed under the shifting weight, "This is the last chance I have to be able to provide for my family. To make sure they're taken care of. Especially my Baba, he's really sick. I doubt he has much time left; I just want to make his last years comforta-......What are you doing?"

In the middle of her rant, Sol had reached up and grabbed hold of a waving arm. The words fell away and she studied him. Incomprehensible being that he was, it was this that perplexed her most. She obliged to his gentle pull and found her seat again. With her speech forgotten, and him with a most ponderous expression, the star placed both hands on his knees and shuffled close. So close - and even more perplexing - that their noses almost touched.

He squinted, his head nodding from side to side, but his eye contact remained unbroken. The girl, awkward under the intensity of his examination, started to fidget. The only sound between them was the odd creak emitting from the boat below.

Asha's attention darted to her lap, "Umm, do you have to stare-"

The boy hooked his finger under her chin and tilted her face back up to his, "Keep looking at me if you wouldn't mind."

"What is this...some strange celestial ritual? I feel like I'm being checked for pox."

"The eyes are the windows to the soul, and one can't be too careful with a wish as nebulous as yours."

"So, you ARE going to grant it!"

"I make no promises," he muttered, his sight shifting in millimeters, taking in not only her eyes but her face and that unceasing expression of ambition. He hissed through his teeth and went back to gazing into that vivid hazel. He kept staring, Asha wasn't sure what he was searching for, but after a few minutes a smile bloomed across his face. His hand dropped from her chin, and he nodded, sitting back, "Alright Asha, I'll grant your wish. But-"

"But?"

He wagged his finger at her, "If anything goes wrong, and I mean anything, it'll be null and void. Got it?"

The girl's chest filled with excitement, "Got it!" She closed her eyes, waiting for her desire to be bestowed upon her.

"Which means that we're going to be good friends for a little while."

"Huh?" her eyes opened; trepidation clear in her tone.

"Simple, I'm going to hang around until I know that you're not going to...break anything."

"Uh huh, and this means that-"

"I'm coming home with you, of course."

"Ah ha!" the girl's enthusiasm waned. Her mind playing out all the ways she'd have to hide this strange boy. How was she going to keep her mother and grandfather from finding out? Let alone her friends! How was this going to work? Her fingers started to tug at her braids, "You see...my house is not very big..."

"I'm not granting a wish that risky without making sure it doesn't start another war."

"Another war?"

"I told you...mistakes."

Asha hissed, "Fine, fine. You can come home with me," she pressed a finger to her lips, "But you have to stay quiet, ok?"

The boy grinned, "As a mouse."

"So..." Asha's hands circled one another, "how about that wi-"

"Where is this home of yours, anyway?"

She grumbled to herself before answering, "Rosas."

He cocked his head, "Doesn't sound familiar...is it on the continent?"

"No, it's on an island, roughly three day's travel south."

The boy scratched his head, "Still can't recall...well," he stuck his arms out on either side of him, his hands cupping air before golden oars shimmered into existence in their grasp, "How good is your reckoning?"

"But my wish-"

"Will be granted once we make landfall," the oars splashed down into the murky water below. The boat started to buck and tilt, "Besides, the eye will be passing by us soon. I'd hate to get caught in the storm," he looked toward Asha again, "So that reckoning?"

"Fair," the girl sighed. Could this boy draw things out any longer? She bent down and retrieved her shoes, pulling them back on as she readied herself for the approaching rain.

Chapter Text

Sol knew his brother would have several words for him. Probably very long words strung together with a fair amount of disappointment. But he was having too much fun whistling sea shanties to care. It felt good to be back in the physical world. The discordant rhythm of things made him feel more alive. He wanted to drink in every moment, the waves lapping against the boat, the wind that played with Asha's hair, the salt that imbued the air. He breathed in deep but was met with nothing. He smirked to himself; Look don't touch.

The girl across from him shivered, illuminated by the stray rays of moonlight poking through the clouds. They had passed out of the hurricane some time ago, but she was still soaked to the bone. His lips pressed thin, and he stalled in his rowing. Her eyebrow raised before his cloak landed heavy against her lap.

"I don't need it," Sol resumed his rowing in the loose wool shirt hidden underneath.

Asha accepted it, silent as she wrapped it around her thin frame. She hugged it to herself for a minute before shivering again and disentangling herself, "No offense," her teeth clacked together as she disrobed, "But this is like cuddling up to a gale of wind."

"Oh," the boy shrugged, "None taken."

He began whistling again as she folded the cloak over and laid it in the seat next to her. She brushed the sapphire fabric with her fingers. The boy reached the end of the tune and threw himself into another one.

"You've already done that one," the girl mumbled, still picking at the celestial garment.

His whistling petered out, "You know, you never explained why you need all that power. Can't I talk you down to something more reasonable? Like magic equal to that of dragons?"

The girl snorted, "Nice try, I'm not taking you home with me for something 'more reasonable.'"

"But why do you need that much?"

The girl looked past the boy to the water beyond, "It's complicated."

"Well, if you haven't noticed, we've got nothing but time."

"No, we don't," the girl breathed in relief. She pointed over his shoulder, "There's Rosas!"

He turned to follow her gesture, but saw nothing but gray water beyond, "Uh..."

"It's as clear as day!"

He glanced back at her, "Ok... how much sea water did you drink before we talked?"

She shook her head, "Come on now, it's dead ahead!" She moved to sit next to him on the narrow seat, her legs facing toward this salt-water induced illusion, "Just bare left. You see that cave coming up on us, right?"

He looked behind him, making out the vague shadow looming out of the oppressive dark, "Sure..."

"Aim for it but watch your head."

He stared at her, incredulous, "Are you going to answer my question?"

The corner of her lips rose in challenge, "When we make landfall."

The boy laughed at the counter, his strokes growing stronger, "Well then, I better hasten."

"You better."

Through some negotiating between the waves and the rock wall, Sol was able to maneuver the small vessel into the grotto. He looked around the low cavern, glistening with millions of water droplets. The dim space only lit by a small opening which they were fast approaching. The boat thumped against the rock floor and Asha was quick to tie off the mooring line. She finished her task with a satisfied nod before looking over at her effervescent guest. His eyes were pinned to the narrow entrance.

"Sunlight," he whispered.

"Uh...yeah," she stepped out of the boat with careful movements, her knees still remembering the sway of the sea, "We're kind of known for that, the eternal sun and all," she smoothed down her skirt, "So, are you coming or..."

The more Sol stared at those yellow rays, the more uneasy he grew. If it could, the hair on the back of his neck would have been standing straight up. There was a constant hum running through the air. It felt like it was passing through him. Shaking him to the smallest degree, but shaking him still. Feeling lightheaded, he looked over at the nonplussed girl, "There's stardust here...a lot of it."

Asha had crept over to the opening, standing on her toes she peeked through it, "And that's another thing we're known for," she stepped away, "Although, I'd imagine other kingdoms have it too. According to my Baba they don't but-"

"No, I can certainly say they don't," the boy jumped out the of boat, sending it rocking, "Who did you say your king was again?"

"I didn't, his name is King Magnifico."

"And your queen?"

"Queen Amaya, why?"

The boy rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head, "Never mind, though I think I understand your wish now. Can't say it makes me feel any better."

"Oh yeah, about that!" Asha's foot stamped against the stone floor, "We've hit land."

"Yes, we have," the boy winked before making his way over to Asha and the exit beyond. He hoisted himself up, gazing into a world awash in gold and white, "Wow, there really is a kingdom here."

He started to crawl through the gap before the girl reached up to grab a hold of his ankle, "Umm...I think you're missing something."

He shook her off before scrambling through the rest of the way. He turned back to peer down at her in that tiny cavern, "I haven't forgotten anything, it's already been granted."

"Already....hey wait!" the boy disappeared from sight. Asha groaned and grappled her way up the wall and through the crevice. All the aches and pains that she'd ignored during her midnight voyage now came back to prick and poke her as she wiggled her way into the sunlight. She stumbled to her feet, blinking the haziness from her eyes as her pupils constricted. She could see Sol at the top of the incline, looking up at the sun which burned bright in a clear blue sky. She marched over to him. Hearing her footfalls, he exclaimed, "It's so big!"

"Yeah...it's the sun," she stopped next to him, holding her lower back with both hands. She felt like an old woman.

"I've never seen him from here before. I mean, he always talks a big game but...wow!" he threw his arms up, "No wonder you humans like to stay out during the day!"

"....He?"

Sol waved away the question like it was a gnat, "Yeah, he's a bit of a blow-hard but a good guy once you get to know him."

"Huh...woah wait!" Asha shoved the new topic aside, "You said my wish was already granted...how?"

"Easy, we had a deal, we hit land...now you have your wish."

"But...I don't feel any different," she stared down at her palms, opening and closing her fingers.

"Were you supposed to?"

"I dunno, I guess I was expecting more...pizazz."

The boy finally turned his attention away from the fireball in the sky, "What? Like that colorful gunpowder they use in the east?"

"Well...yeah...I mea- why are you laughing?" She crossed her arms and glared at the now cackling Sol. He was doubled over, hitting his knee repeatedly.

"I'm sorry," he coughed between laughs, "But the thought of putting on a whole mummers show to grant one wish is ridiculous."

"Oh, come on! It's not that ridiculous!"

His guffaws turned to chuckles, "Believe me, it is. The only ones who have the 'perform' are charlatans. No better than thieves."

The comment hit her like a bucking mule. Her jaw tightened, and her tongue was readying a sharp reply -

"I wasn't talking about you, Asha."

The anger was abated as soon as it flared, she stuttered in the emotional whiplash, "I...uh...h-how did you...?"

Sol shrugged, his attention wandering to the sand at his feet. He bent down, gripping the coarse earth and letting it run through his fingers, watching it with rapt attention. Once that handful dissolved away, he grabbed another one, watching it again, "You wear your emotions like the clothes on your back. But that's good!" he straightened up, pocketing the rest of the sand, "It means you're open."

"What?"

"Trust me it's a compliment," his gaze flew around the kingdom that stretched toward the sky, settling on the castle that towered over it all, "So that's where your king lives?"

"Yes...and where my apprenticeship is tomorrow. Which, thanks to you," she patted his arm, but he didn't react, "I will excel at."

"I'd like to meet him."

Now it was Asha's turn to laugh, "Aha, very funny. There's no way that's going to happen."

"Why not?"

"Ummm," she gestured wildly to every part of him, "You GLOW."

"And what does that have to do with it?"

"Everything!"

Sol snorted and wrapped his arm, tight, around the girl's shoulders, "Ah Asha, we are going to have so much fun together!"

****

Red fingers reached across the darkening sky. And from their encroaching shadow two figures fled.

They found shelter within an abandoned cottage, but the bleeding door wouldn't shut! The boy threw his back against it, forcing it to close, dammit, CLOSE! Rusted hinges let out a fatal wail as swollen wood splintered and wedged itself against the jam. The night, never fast enough, was left to paw at the door and prowl under windows...but never within. The boy breathed heavy as he allowed his legs to give, sliding to the floor. Yes, they had outrun those infernal creatures again...thank-

A shrill cry sounded in the dim.

His head shot up to behold Amaya's blanched face. He followed where her quivering finger pointed. Missing stones created a patchwork of light against the opposite wall. The boy cursed and stumbled forth, reaching into his threadbare pockets as he did, he withdrew mounds of cloth. They were shoved into the holes, blotting out the twilight. When he ran out of cloth he went to the dirt floor. Fistfuls of soil were mixed with his spit, the makeshift clay smeared over what was left. With dirty hands he fell to his knees, his forearm wiping the sweat from his brow. Why did night have to come so fast?

"Izi."

He turned back to see the girl smiling at him over a candle's flame. He pulled himself over to where she sat, the two holding vigil at the center of the empty homestead. He rubbed his grubby hands against his even grubbier pants, "One day Cassie, we're going to stop running. I'll find a place where no star will ever find us."

She turned her tired eyes away from him, her face had grown pale in the time they'd been together, "But there is no place."

"Then I'll make one!" he reached over the flame and grabbed her thin hand, "I'll become the best magician there ever was and I'll make one."

Her smile deepened, "Oh, don't you see?" she brushed his cheek with her fingers, "They've already found us, amor."

Magnifico woke with a start. The air was thick....cloying. He couldn't breathe.

He threw away the quilt and stood from the bed. In his absence, Amaya stretched and rolled onto her stomach, her bleary eyes making out the shadow of her husband as he crossed to the window. He ripped aside the ornate curtain, letting the sun catch the silver in his hair.

"Cariño, what is it?" Amaya yawned.

"A wish has been granted."

"What?"

He looked out upon the sun-washed kingdom. Planting both hands on the sill, he crushed the stones beneath his fingers.

The queen flew to his side. Desperate nails, grasping, scratching, digging into his arm.

"No...it can't be possible...not here!"

"Maybe not here, but close. The air is full of it. Can't you feel it?"

Amaya looked out onto the world below and shivered. The atmosphere buzzed around her. Stardust coated her tongue and bit at her cheeks. She screamed in defiance, her shriek echoing through the abandoned streets. Her fist raised, coming down against her husband's shoulder, "No, not again! It can't happen here! You said it wouldn't happen here!"

"I KNOW!" he pulled himself from the open window. Staring down at the terrified woman before him, his voice softened, "I know."

"You must do something! Don't let them find me. Mi Vide...mi amor, don't let them take me from you!" she grasped his shirt tight, "Please!" she fell against his chest, shuddering.

The king's hand rose to stroke her dark hair. His lips pressed against the top of her head, "I won't let anything happen to you, mi reina." His gaze swept over his land. The sun-kissed orchards, the mountainous terrain, the glistening ocean beyond and the far away silhouette of an approaching merchant vessel, "We'll close the ports."

Amaya pushed herself away from him. Staring from beyond the window's light, her eyes flashed green, "And what if he's already here?"

The king shook his head, a sly smile creeping across his face, "As far as I know, your friends aren't able to enter without the help of a human. But if by some chance one of them has slid through my enchantment, he will be no better than a caged bird." He shrugged, "A star only has so much stardust to give before he burns out."

A scowl contorted her delicate features.

"You act like I've missed something Cassie."

"You have...I know of only two stars who can grant wishes. That rotten jailer Polaris, and his imbecile of a brother. They won't be deterred. If they even have a whiff of me they'll sniff me out. Dirty mongrels that they are," she sneered.

Her husband closed the newly-made distance, cupping her smooth face with his hands and tracing her cheek with his thumb, "Ah Cassie, we've been here for five hundred years with nary a hint of being found. Let's play our cards carefully. No use flying into a fit before we know where the enemy is."

She turned her head to kiss his hand, "You are far too confident."

He leaned close to her, his voice rumbling in her ear, "But fear doesn't flatter you, my lady."

Her breath caught, "You must kill him."

The king took a step back from her, spinning the ring on his thumb.

"Oh, don't be a child about it," she hissed, "He mustn't be able to report back. If he does, then they will take me away," her voice broke on the last word. She squeezed her eyes shut, steadying herself before continuing, "Time to stop playing games and grow up, Boy."

The room was airless as the monarch regarded the cool woman. Her eyes were flung wide, and her chin lifted. Her statuesque figure cut a harsh, angular, shadow. It slithered across the floor and washed over him. He swallowed, the ring stopping its rotation.

He embraced his wife, "The dead don't talk, do they?"

Her fingers tangled themselves in his shirt, "No, they don't."

Chapter Text

The third step up squealed. Asha cringed, "I said watch out for the third one," her words were more mouthed than spoken.

"I thought you said sixth," Sol muttered back.

The girl grumbled and batted at the boy's back to get him to keep moving. When he didn't react, she growled, "go," which got him to start climbing. She ran her hand down her face. If only she had left her window unlocked, then they wouldn't be sneaking around like thieves. Well...at least Sol wouldn't have.

By some stray bit of luck, they were able to reach Asha's room without waking anyone up. The boy started to cross the threshold before the girl grabbed his wrist and pulled him back.

"What-"

The girl's finger flew to her lips. Sol's hands rose in agitation before settling into an exaggerated, WHY?

She pointed at the thin line of white that glimmered in her doorway. It looked that same as the others that snaked along the floor downstairs. Though, those had been far easier to avoid. He turned back to her and shook his head. She sighed and grabbed his hand. She took her finger and started to trace a word against his palm. Sol pulled away, still shaking his head, but she yanked his hand back. It was the same word over and over, pressing deep into his skin. Squinting, his eyes finally adjusted to the movement.

SALT.

"Oh," he breathed in acknowledgment.

The girl harrumphed. Took you long enough, her scowl illustrated.

He rolled his eyes and grabbed her hand in return.

SO?

She took her hand back and gestured for him to stay. She walked over to her door and stepped over the line of salt. Granted, it was exaggerated for Sol's benefit, but her point got across. The star followed behind her, minding the little border before closing the door behind him.

"Odd practices you have here. Is it normal to keep your seasonings on the floor?" he whispered.

"No, that would be my mother's specialty," Asha muttered as she made her way over to the chest in front of her bed. She lifted the heavy top and peered at the cobwebs within, "She started doing all this a few years ago. She hasn't been the same since..." a lump formed in her throat at the next thought. She bit the inside of her cheek and started to pull out the random odds and ends that resided within.

Sol sat on the end of her bed, looking over the open lid, "I'm sorry for your loss."

Her head shot up. A glimpse of shock, then her lips drew tight, and her work resumed. Movements came rigid and quick in the newly soured air.

The boy sighed and leaned back. Aye, she was a prickly one wasn't sh-

BLLLEEEEAAAAATTTTTTT

Sol flew up in surprise, his head hitting the ceiling with a crack. Asha winced, but the boy floated back down, oblivious to what should have been a grievous injury and too fascinated with the lump now moving beneath the quilt to bother minding. The formless bump in question tunneled its way through patchwork and linen, traveling clear across the bed, until the displeased face of Valentino emerged.

Sol's face spread wide with a smile. Still floating above the bed, he dropped soft on the mattress, cross-legged. He leaned forward with his head cocked to the side, "Hey there little guy."

Valentino's ear flicked.

"Hey..." his hand extended toward that funny tuft of hair atop the goat's head.

Asha hauled book upon heavy book from the chest. Catching the star's advances toward her less-than-thrilled pet, she didn't break her rhythm as she warned, "Be careful, he bites."

True to her word, the goat clamped on, hard, to Sol's hand. He watched with a curious expression as the tiny animal chomped, and chomped, and...those little eyes fixed him good before chomping again.

"Huh...so he does."

"Told you," she grunted as she shoved the eclectic mix of junk under her bed. She peered over the top of the straw mattress, "Doesn't that hurt?"

The star continued to observe as Valentino tried everything within his power to inflict pain. His teeth ground against golden flesh, pinching and nipping. So intent in his task, a line of drool dripped from the star's unflinching fingers.

He looked over at Asha and shrugged, "Not really."

"Hmm," The girl stood up from the floor and stretched the aching muscles in her back. She slid onto the bed and gently detached the angry goat from Sol, "Well, your bed is ready if you want to see."

"Bed?" he wiped the residual saliva onto his trousers, "Where?"

"There," Asha's thumb hooked back at the trunk.

"Oh..." the star hopped off the mattress and investigated the dusty chest. He placed his hands on either side of the opening and hummed in thought. The light radiating from him revealed two pillows thrown onto the wooden bottom. With a shrug he hopped in. His legs barely fit, and when he reclined fully, his knees where level with his chin.

Asha crawled to the end of her bed, staring down at him, "Now, I know it's not a lot..."

"Eh, I've stayed at worse. It's better than Spartan accommodations," he rearranged his legs so he could sit upright within the trunk. He balled his fist under his chin in thought, "Now if I can just figure out the space situation-"

The door creaked open, "Habibti?"

Asha leapt from the bed, slamming the trunk closed on the star. She sat on top of it, attempting to appear casual while also detracting from the golden pinpricks of light that were leaking through the hinges.

The door opened the rest of the way and Sakina appeared, holding a candle aloft to better illuminate the dim room. The flickering light danced over Asha and her mother gasped. She hurriedly placed the candle down and swept her daughter up into her arms.

"Oh Asha, I was so worried!"

Her daughter patted her back, "Ah, Yemma. I'm fine. I was just out for a walk is all."

Sakina pulled back, her expression far from trusting, "You're awfully damp for a walk."

"It was hot."

Her mother's lips pursed.

The girl exhaled through clenched teeth, "And...I may have gone out on the boat-"

"Asha! You'll catch your death out there on the sea! I wish you would let that boat alone"

"But it was Papa's!"

Her mother flinched at the name, "It was your grandfather's first. It gave him his cough and your father his..." she swallowed, "...his...illness," she labored. With a pained expression, she patted he daughter's hand, "I want you to grow up strong, habibti. Please, do it for me at least. There's been too much sadness in this house as it is."

The girl looked down at her shoes, "Yes, Yemma."

Her mother breathed and nudged her daughters face up to look at her. A soft smile played against her lips as she swept an errant braid behind Asha's back. The candlelight flickered and splashed against the woman's cheek. Asha's heart tightened. How old her mother looked! Her skin was so worn, and her eye surrounded in a sea of lines. Had she always been so tired, so gentle and weak? The girl swallowed. It had not been long since her mother's hands had strayed from stardust, but time had cast its own spell during those few years.

"Don't be discouraged by your grandfather's words this evening. He's happy for you...in his own way. Besides, it's high time this house had another magician," she squeezed Asha's fingers, "I know my Tomás wouldn't have wanted it any other way."

The girl nodded; her own smile tight.

"Well, I won't keep you. You have a big day tomorrow, rest up!" She gave her daughter one last hug before departing the room with the quickly diminishing candle in hand.

When the door closed, Asha breathed in relief. She was just about to dismount from the trunk when the lid below her started to rise. She stifled her startled exclamation, opting to hiss, "Hey, I'm still on this thing!"

"Ah, that's why it's so heavy," two golden eyes narrowed in the inch high gap.

"I'm not that heavy!"

"You're plenty heavy," he grunted.

She hopped off the chest and yanked the lid all the way up.

"Now, wai-........woah...."

Below her was something that shouldn't be. Or rather couldn't be...but was. A bedroom. One that rivalled the size of her own; a fact she noted with a twinge of jealousy. Steps descended toward a well-made bed. Upon the walls hung weathered tapastries depicting times long gone and languages since forgotten. Built in shelves held a hectic collection of books and scrolls, but the contents too plentiful, had been left to be strewn about the floor. There was a window that inexplicably showed the outside, and along its sill, a varied collection of trinkets and scraps lined up with military precision. She blinked, swinging her head from one side to the other, "How?"

Sol stared down at the pocket room then back up at the stunned girl, grinning, "Magic," he answered, "Impressed?"

"Flabbergasted, actually," she rested her elbow against the edge of the trunk, "Well now I don't feel guilty about shoving you in this thing."

"Apology accepted."

Asha snickered at the attempted sarcasm. She pushed herself away from the enchanted bedroom and crossed to where she had abandoned her peasant dress that morning. She picked up the raggedy garment and stuck her hand in the pockets, digging until her fingers wrapped around her drawstring purse. Bringing it out, it was illuminated by the star's glow as he leaned over her shoulder.

"What's that?"

"My purse," she sighed, her fingers unraveled to show where she'd ripped it apart in her panic. She looked back at the boy, "Let's see if these new powers of mine work, huh?"

Sol answered the statement with silence, stepping back from the girl and watching her approach the small jar perched on her windowsill. He saw her reach in, and he gagged when she retracted a hand covered in stardust.

"You just keep it in a jar?!"

"Be quiet! My mother is tired not deaf!" she chastised him in a raised whisper.

His anxiety was so great, that when he raced to where Asha stood, his feet were hovering above the ground, "Do you know ho-"

"Shush!"

The boy grit his teeth and forced his voice to lower, "Do. You. Know. How. Dangerous. This. Is?"

"It's just stardust...like you use. See?" She passed the damaged bag to her luminous hand, "K-"

Sol grabbed her wrist, "This stuff can level cities and you have it stored like it's flour?"

She wrenched her arm away, "Kušur," the girl stared the star down as her hand sparkled and burned. She tried not to wince, but she couldn't keep her jaw from tightening.

The boy folded his arms over his chest, "It hurts, doesn't it?"

She didn't dignify him with an answer. With a sniff she shook the spent dust from her hands, it fell as sand against the wooden floor. She opened her reddened palm to display the repaired purse, "Well, that was a lot easier than it used to be!"

"Why do you insist on studying something that hurts you?"

She didn't meet his eyes as she started to scoop fistfuls of stardust into the bag, "Any magician worth their keep has scarred hands. My mother has them, my father did too," she tightened the drawstring, "It's just a hazard of the trade."

Sol shook his head in disbelief, "Unimaginable," he sighed in breathy tones, picking up the jar and turning it around, "It all seems so foolish."

"Not really...I mean, isn't there anything that you desire? Something that you would pursue at all costs?

"Nothing I'd kill myself over," he tilted the jar further back, trying to get a look at the bottom.

Asha's hand caught the top of the vessel before it could spill its contents, "Well, I don't know what it's like for stars, but that's how it is for us. At least...me," she shifted the container out of Sol's grasp and into her careful embrace, "I've always wanted to be just as good as my parents were, but I didn't even have half the talent they did. And my father worked so hard with me, he never let me give up. No matter how big the mistake, he would pick me up and start again," she hugged the jar closer, "Then he got sick...and we nearly lost everything. It was so hard. We used to be much better off...but then that all went away," she nodded down at the stardust, "Even this is going away little by little. The king will only supply so much, you know?"

The star's gaze was incredulous.

"What I'm trying to say is," she slid the jar back on the sill, "If there's a chance, even a slight one, to keep my family from suffering further. I'd do anything to make that happen. A little pain is nothing in comparison."

Sol scrutinized the girl as she made her case. The dubious expression melted away as the quiet seconds elapsed. With an impish grin, his finger stabbed the air, stopping inches from her nose, "See, that's why I like you guys! That right there, all that fire and zeal," he stepped forward and rested both hands on her shoulders, "It must be wonderful to experience such life."

Asha started at the boy's touch. Looking at the golden hands laid upon her, she cleared her throat, "See," she bent her knees and ducked out of the boy's hold, "I think we need to have a conversation about personal space-"

The door creaked open again and Asha's entire body turned to liquid.

"Are you talking to someone in here?" he mother's voice whispered through the narrow gap.

The girl shuddered under a cold layer of sweat. She was caught. How in the world was she going to explain the incandescent boy standing next to her-

She looked to her right and saw nothing but shadows. When she turned her head the other way, she found the same. Where was he?

"Hah! Uh...well.... I was rehearsing for tomorrow...with Valentino!" she leapt the distance between herself and the bed and scooped up the lethargic goat. She picked up a hoof and waved it at her mother. The woman's face was less than impressed.

"Get some rest. Morning will come sooner than you think."

"On it!"

The door closed and the girl fell backwards on the bed. Staring up at the ceiling, the boy materialized above her. She rose to her elbows, "Where-"

She thought better of it and mouthed, 'where did you go?'

Sol snapped his fingers and blinked out of existence. She then heard a similar snap and he burst back into being.

"Great," she muttered, breathy and tense, "Next time, tell me about the convenient invisibility spell before I faint."

"Sorry," he whispered, perching on the edge of her bed, "What do you want to do, now?"

Asha rubbed her eyes, "Sleep," she sighed, "I want to go to sleep."

"You will at least put a cap over all that stardust, right?"

"Maybe in the morning," she yawned back as she cuddled up to her pillow. The goat gave Sol a dirty look before he too dozed off, curled up against the makeshift magician.

"Good night, Sol," she sighed on the verge of sleep.

"Good night, Asha."

The boy looked over at the jar, sitting as diligently as a sentry. His ears were so accustomed to the language of the stars that he had almost disregarded the incantation. But as his mind whirled in that bright midnight, he realized that he had heard a human utter his native language.

Now who had taught her that?

Chapter Text

Asha's lips pursed as she inspected her reflection. The dress was servicable. Yes, that was a good word for it. Servicable. Much better than "plain" or "dull." Inoffensive in its faint beige color, it was clean and.... settling her hands on her hips she sighed...it would have to do. Squinting at the bland peasant girl before her, her lip curled.

Ugh.

She spun to observe the extent of her wretchedness. In her turning, the hem bunched, crinkling and shifting to allow a scandalous peek at her underthings. She winced, it may have been servicable, but a mite too short. Her mother was right, she had grown. And inconveniently so! Letting out a low groan she reached to pull at the hem. In her bending, twisting, then straightening, her muscles eagerly chronicled yesterday's misadventures. Retelling her mistakes in minute spasms.

Her pain releasing in one long hiss, she took a step back, and made her final judgement.

"Boring."

"What?"

Her eyes flicked to the left where she could see the boy on the bed behind her. Sol was playing an intense game of chicken with Valentino. He kept reaching out to pet the small animal, only to retract the same hand when the goat lunged for it.

"This dress," she bemoaned, scrunching the rough fabric between her fingers, "It's so...common..."

Not dropping his attention from the sparring match, Sol queried back, "What's wrong with that?"

"Well, it isn't exactly befitting of an appointment with the king."

"So?"

"So..." she huffed, glancing behind her, "...wouldn't it be possible for you to...well, you know!"

His eyes snapped to hers, "One wish," he rotated his shoulder to avoid the goat as he lurched forth, "...remember?"

Her head fell back, exasperated she let out a grumble to rival that of her pet, "Yeah...yeah..."

"Although..."

She paused.

"It wouldn't be anything permanent...but I might...enchant your dress...if..." she could see his sly smile reflected over her shoulder, "...you let me come along."

"No," she crossed her arms, staring him down in that silvery void, "Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

The girl turned from the mirror, "I don't think I have to explain that."

He leaned back, "I can be very discrete. You wouldn't even know that I'm there."

"I don't care how discrete you are, you do not leave this house unless I say so, got it?"

His eyes wandered to the wall, "Sure."

She had turned back to mess with her hair when a brisk knock shook the timbers beneath her. The front door whined. There were voices, new ones. Deep ones. Oh! Gasping, the girl snatched the pouch of stardust she'd carelessly tossed to the side. Her fingers fumbled with the strings as she wrapped it around her waist. "They're here," she kept repeating under her breath.

Her ramblings leeched an anxious drug. Sailing from nerve-ending to nerve-ending, it slid through the gaps between her knuckles and into the waiting bones. Poisoning down to the marrow, her fingers stalled leaving the purse to fall - somersaulting - over the old wooden floor. With a frustrated cry, Asha dropped after the fallen pouch only to find Sol's golden hand lifting it from the floor.

"Oh!"

"Stand up straight," his voice was bland.

Asha lengthened her spine with difficulty. In between her grunting and groaning, Sol's nimble fingers tied the drawstring purse around her waist.

"There," he nodded, stepping away, "Now you're ready."

She grabbed his hand and gave it a shake, "Thank you!"

"No problem, good-"

The girl was already out the door and running down the stairs.

"...luck," the star mumbled.

Asha leapt the last three steps and landed with a thud on the ground floor. Sakina startled at the noise, but Sabino kept his eyes focused on his busy hands. Before him was that same stray bit of rope he'd been messing with the night before. Though this time it was taking a fair bit of abuse, snapping out of knots then being strangled into new ones. The old man's movements were violent, but it didn't take long to realize why.

A broad-shouldered guard stood a few inches within the entry of their cottage. Though he was the image of propriety, his eyes still widened and traced the winding trails of salt that he could see. Asha fought with her embarrassment. She rearranged her face into something more placid and direct. She sucked in her breath and marched right up to the monster of a man. She had to over-extend her neck to even glance at his face.

"I assume you're here to escort me?"

The authoritative gaze fixed her to the spot, "Yes Señorita, are you prepared?"

"As much as I can be."

"Then you will follow Renard and myself. Make sure you don't stray too far," the man pivoted, sharp on his heels, and marched out the door. He had to duck to fit through it, but every motion was impeccable. If Asha hadn't known better, she would have sworn that he'd practiced. She turned back and waved to her mother. Sakina was exuberant in her well-wishes and congratulations, they continued to trail the girl well after she had stepped off the porch. But as she hurried after her two chaperons, she realized that her grandfather had never looked at her.

She was breathless as she fought to keep up with the wide strides of the guards. She ended up jogging most of the way, the distance between them growing larger and larger as their journey continued. In the midst of her gasping and panting, she turned her head toward the docks as they passed above them. The cobblestone pier was thick with royal uniforms. Among the bustle of white and blue, the shabbier attire of the traders and fisherman could be seen. This area of Rosas was always loud, but this morning it was even more so. Anger amplified the heated debates below her. Shouts rose up above the rumble but were quieted by a well-placed boot to the gut, or a sword to the throat. The girl stopped her jogging and looked on with confusion.

After a few paces, her traveling companions realized their charge was no longer following and they doubled back. They found her pale and rooted to the spot as she took in the chaos unfolding below.

"Señorita, you are expected at the castle."

She turned to the man she remembered as Renard. His words felt like they were coming to her from underwater, "What's going on?"

"Nothing to worry about," the other guard piped up, "Minor defensive measures handed down by the king. All will be restored in good time."

"Restored?"

"Yes, for the time being our ports will remain closed to all incoming and outgoing vessels."

She felt her veins ice over, "Is there a reason...a timeline? Something other than 'in good time?'"

"It is not our place to question the king," Renard sneered, authority filling his chest, "Neither is it yours. Trust that he has the best of intentions for Rosas and its people."

"Besides," his companion interjected, "Your purpose is far greater than this," the chain mail clacked as his arm swept to the scene below, "Let the laymen deal with this matter."

The girl continued to look on.

"You do understand that the king won't want to be kept waiting?"

Her eyes squeezed shut, and she wrenched her head away from the mess below. She followed after the two men, her uncertainty still playing at the back of her mind. Everything came by ship to their kingdom. They provided very little for themselves, trade was their 'bread and butter,' as her grandfather liked to crow. With that, merchants were an integral, and valued, part of their small society. But as several lay subdued under the boot of the royal crest, she supposed that was about to change.

Curious glances followed after the small procession as they made their way through the town. Anxious whispers turned to gossip as people peered over shoulders, around walls, and through windows. The girl felt every red-hot word as they floated in the air around her, 'so young,' some said, 'so inexperienced,' said others. Then there were ones who glared, they were the ones who'd been robbed of their winnings. There wasn't as many of them, but Asha couldn't miss the dirty look thrown from Luisa as the royal escort passed by the butchers. Asha met the poisonous glare and flung her head high in return. So let them look, let them talk, she wouldn't let on that she noticed. Sol had said she was 'open', she would have to fix that.

They soon reached the gates of the palace. The guards called to their fellow cohorts and the gate was lifted on their behalf. They passed under the high walls and into the courtyard beyond. The girl couldn't keep her eyes from wandering, she had never been this close to the castle before. Though her parents had been royal magicians, she had been too young to appear at court during their tenure. Now standing under the spidery arches and soaring pillars, all her previous misgivings were washed away. A few paces before the turquoise entry, her companions turned in unison and issued a salute.

"You are free to continue on your own now," Renard barked.

Asha knelt in a careful curtsy before the guards filed around the side of the castle and out of sight. Now alone in the shadow of the high walls above, the girl took cautious steps toward the impassive door. She placed a hand against the golden handles and they swung open at her touch. Glancing inside, all that awaited were shadows. She hugged her chest and attempted to buoy herself.

"Ok Papa," she gulped as she picked her foot up, "wish me luck."

All was silent as she stepped into the dim entrance, but for a second a voice drifted over the breeze. Her heart leapt; it was her father. Somewhere far away and drifting further, but it was him, she was sure. Her head turned to look at the empty courtyard behind her. She paused there, straining to hear that wonderful sound again. But it was lost to the wind and the sea. She smiled to herself, taking it as a positive sign, she turned and melted into the dark interior of the castle.

She walked straight until a cathedral-like hall opened before her. Passageways shot off like spokes from a wheel. Each offering a different direction to the uncertain girl. She turned in a slow circle, unsure which way to take, and silently cursing the guards for leaving her unprepared for the labyrinth within.

She made one more half turn, but when she came back around, there was someone waiting.

Her yelp was muffled by the hand that jumped to cover her mouth. Brown hair hung low over dulled eyes and a finger rose against a mocking smile.

"Quiet as a mouse," he muttered.

"SHHOOOL!" she garbled around his palm.

"I thought I said quiet."

"Mnno yurfh-"

"Sorry?" he lifted his hand from her lips.

Asha's finger stabbed his sternum, "What are you doing here?"

The boy stuck his hands in his pockets, "I was doing some thinking and realized that I have a few millennia on you, at least. So, taking that into account," he tapped away the girl's accusatory jab, "I'm the adult in this situation."

Her teeth ground together at the challenge, "Oh, so you're just going to gallivant wherever you please now? Do you have any idea how crazy people will get if they find out you're a-"

His hand smothered her mouth again. She stamped her foot, was he going to keep doing this?

"Ok, first off," he held up one finger, "I don't gallivant, but if I did, yes I would go wherever I want. Second," another finger rose, "keep the 'S' word on the down-low if you'd please. Despite what you may believe, celestial business is confidential first and foremost. And third," his thumb shot out, "I do very well at hiding my glow if you didn't notice."

He wasn't lying. He looked pretty normal. If she hadn't known him as his original luminous self, she would have taken him for anybody else on the street. She breathed through the gap in his fingers. Her eyes flew up to the ceiling in exasperation before she gave him a small nod of approval.

Grinning, his hand dropped.

"But this does not give you permission to tail me to my apprenticeship every day."

He batted away her concern, "Relax, I just want to meet your king."

"And meet him you shall."

The pair jumped at the rumbling voice which echoed around the cavernous hall. They both turned to see the imposing figure of Magnifico descend one of the many stairways that encircled them. Despite the beginnings of age showing on his face, he still held himself in an athletic manner. His pace was slow as he descended, not in uncertainty, but in the way the predator stalks prey. His feet made no sound as he quickly closed the distance between himself and the two teens, "Now I must say, I wasn't expecting that I would have to fetch my own apprentice."

"Terribly sorry your highness," Asha dropped into a deep curtsy, her knees almost touching the floor. Sol continued to stare at the monarch for a few seconds more, before the girl's hand yanked on his arm. He fell into a bow of his own, equally deep.

"You are full of surprises, aren't you Asha?" Magnifico chuckled, "Now you've brought a guest with you. By the name of...?"

The star snapped out of his veneration, "Ah buongiorno! My name is Alessandro," he walked right up to the king, grabbed his hand and shook it.

Asha thought she was going to pass out.

Magnifico's eyebrows rose at the breach of conduct, but he remained silent for Sol to charge forth with that horrendous accent, "I came to watch my cousin perform. But the journey is so long back to Venice, that I decided to stay a bit longer and visit with her. As well as meet your highness," he dropped to one knee. His hold still tight over the monarch's hand, his forehead rested against the knuckles, "Your majesty."

"Ah ha, well," the king slid his hand out of Sol's grasp, "Enchanted to meet you...Alexander-"

"Alessandro."

"Right...you may stand."

The star rose, slow, using the time to get a good look at the monarch's eyes. Sterile and unblinking, they regarded the boy with confusion but not suspicion. The man above him stood proud and strong. But behind that regal air of a lion, there was a small cub staring out from a makeshift mane. A creature never quite grown, but with teeth sharp enough to kill. He didn't like being near the king, but one thing was for sure. This man was mortal through and through.

Before Sol could stand fully, Asha reached forward and dragged him away from the monarch.

"Apologies for my...cousin. His is a land far away from ours. Cultural differences and all."

Magnifico nodded, "Yes...our world is full of...interesting people," he cleared his throat, "Well Antonio, if you don't mind, I will need to take Asha off your hands. The morning is already waning and there's so much to go over."

"Certamente! Take all the time you need," his hand wheeled in the air as he lowered himself into another bow. Asha had to fight to keep from snorting at his hammed-up performance.

The king turned and started toward the same stairs he had previously descended, calling over his shoulder, "Will you accompany me Señorita?"

The girl coughed away her burgeoning laugh, "Y-yes, yes of course." She followed after the king, taking care to give the star one last glare, she pointed two fingers at her eyes then turned them around to jab at his general direction.

He shook his head at the girl's back as she ascended the stairs. Little did she know that he had plenty of work to do. He watched the two figures wind their way, waiting as they traveled up...up....gone.

Wasting no time, he plunged down one of the other branching paths that made up the labyrinthine castle. He followed the narrow corridor of his choosing, keeping close to the wall and straining his ears for the sound of boots against stone.

His path took him through the innards of the building. Hallways barren of any ornament or tapestry stretched for miles, circling around the interior chambers like a snake. He ran into many a flustered servant in his exploration, well...more accurately they ran into him. Quick to disappear before the palace staff could see, a few still collided with his invisible figure, sending linens, firewood, and on one occasion beads, flying. But when the disturbed maid would gather herself to look around, Sol was already around the corner and off to another section of the castle.

He peered into unoccupied rooms, entering some but passing up most. He thumbed through a few books in the library, but they were all on human matters. No particular tome called out to him. Frustrated, he moved on. There had to be something here. Somehow this kingdom was privy to the knowledge of the stars. He had his suspicions but could come up with nothing to prove them.

Completing his initial revolution, he ended up in that same hub. He ran a hand through his hair, spinning in a circle as he took in the multiple options spread out before him. Humming to himself, his eyes flicked over to the same staircase he'd seen Asha disappear up. Squaring his jaw, he leapt upon the steps. His footfalls silent as he floated, more than ran, up. He was met by a wide hallway with a line of doors sprawling in both directions. Drawn to a claustrophobic stone archway, with a nearly impassible set of steps, he slid through and started climbing.

He ascended into the sunlight. He was standing high on the battlements, overlooking the cluster of roofs spilling out from the castle's shadow. The bustle of life danced below him, figures resembling little more than dots at this distance. But that was not where his focus was. Closer to his position, in fact directly below him, a lush garden grew in the shade of the castle walls. Weaving her way through the thick expanse of flowers and apple trees was a woman. She was lithe, with a long trail of smoky hair wound in a careful braid against her back. Even from far away, Sol could tell she was beautiful. He leaned over the side and squinted, something about her was exceedingly familiar. In his attempt to get a better look, one of the stones that made up the parapets came loose and tumbled into the greenery below. It carved a hole through a rose bush and rolled to a stop before the foot of the mysterious woman. She looked up toward the battlements above and the boy perched upon them. If Sol had a heartbeat, it would have stuttered to a stop.

"Cassiopeia," he rasped as he stared down at the face of the escaped queen.

Chapter Text

Amaya's hand raised to shield her eyes against the sun, but all she could make out was the battlement's jagged teeth. She clicked her tongue; she'd have to get one of the servants to perform repairs again. This salt air did little more than slowly rot her beloved castle. She sighed and resumed her stroll through the rich gardens.

Sol froze where he had dropped, his back rigid against the crenelated wall. He had found Cassiopeia. The scourge of the skies, who had embarrassed his brother in her escape over 500 years ago, was here. Here on this little island in the Mediterranean. Invisible to the heavens under the heat of the eternal sun. He slapped his forehead, cleverer and cleverer. How long would she have continued to go unnoticed? He took a tentative glance around the gap in the stone and was relieved to see the queen had moved along in her morning constitutional.

"Bet you're glad you let me out now, hey Polaris?" he muttered.

It was decided, he had to leave. He must tell his brother. Then they would rally the stars and...and....do what? He couldn't see the island from the sky. How in the world would he lead an invading force back to it? Asha had to guide him through the cave for him to even set foot here. And Asha.... oh no...Asha, his head beat against the solid stone behind him. He still had a loose, and frighteningly combustible, cannon on his hands. That strange girl and her obsession with power.... oh, why had he even agreed to her wish?

"Because you're too naive, too trusting, too weak," His brother's voice pounded through his head; "you always manage to mess up everything!" 

Well, he couldn't be blamed for everything, could he?! The Library of Alexandria really wasn't his fault...how could he have known the wind would change? And then there was Troy...ok, Troy was his fault. But what about.... oh, who was he kidding? He buried his head in his arms. He had made so many mistakes, too many to count. Too many people wishing for one thing and doing something else. Too many lives ruined by wishes much smaller than Asha's. Too many ways for everything to go wrong. Was he really that easily taken in? Why had he given her something so immense?

His head rose. But yet if he hadn't granted her wish, he would have never found Cassiopeia, "So there," he told the figment of his brother.

Besides, if he left, he'd never be able to return to Asha. And where would that leave him? All she would have to do is make one catastrophic decision and his brother would make sure he was sky bound for eternity. This time there would be no apology. He mussed his hair, those were the rules; one wish, one conversation. True, he was "bending" those same rules as he sat there contemplating the entire situation, but it was only to prevent further disaster.

With a determined grunt, his fist met the palm of his hand. He was not going to make another mistake. He would make sure of it. He knew there was some good in that ambitious girl. Underneath all the grit and determination, he'd seen a seed of light twinkling at her core. If he could encourage that, then he was sure he could get her to a point where she could be a benefit for this little island. Maybe as a surrogate ruler, he was sure she would like that. And wouldn't that look even better when he eventually delivered the delinquent queen to his brother?

The boy smiled and picked his way to the other end of the battlements. Checking to make sure no one was looking; he swung his legs over the side and fell to the city below.

This time, he wasn't going to mess things up.

****

Asha followed after the king. Her hands were clasped behind her back and soaking with sweat. She could feel her fingers slipping within her hold as they entered the throne room.

She sucked in her breath at the ethereal sight. Light flooded in from everywhere, making the abundance of quartz and marble glisten in return. Almost blinding, the dazzling interior was laden in thick tapestries and banners to dim the overwhelming brilliance. And the light bathing these extravagant threads called forth the brightest crimsons and deepest purples. Such intricate, interlocking, patterns raced along the fabric, vignetting unicorns, fairies, dragons, all wonders from a world far beyond Rosas's borders. Perhaps even farther than the sea itself.

Passing these illuminated wonders, Magnifico led her to the narrow space between the thrones and the wall. It was there that a mural bloomed. Smokey and black, it was a glimpse of what his subjects were unable to look upon. What he had conquered. Or at least, hidden. Fore when the king reached, he reached toward the night sky. His fingers an inch away from the scene, his eyes flicked over to the nervous girl. Unamused, his hand made a deft turn in the air.

"Oh!" Asha gasped. She made a quick pivot and stared at the back of the thrones. She heard the monarch mutter a few words under his breath, then the scraping of stone and metal sighed throughout the open room. A gale of wind rushed her from behind, her hair lifting then settling in its path.

"You may turn now."

The girl looked over her shoulder and was instantly bewitched.

There was another room beyond the freshly-cut archway. A perfect circle, it was fringed by a decorative arcade, open to the spring air and the clustered city below. Above her wound a stairwell, disappearing past where her sight could discern. Among the spiral were shelves littered with books. Each spine glittering a brilliant green. But all that was secondary to what lay at the center of it all. Falling between the many steps, was stardust. No, not falling...cascading, it was too gorgeous to simply fall. And there was pounds of it...tons of it, tumbling down to a well carved into the marble floor. Its golden hue painting everything in its wake.

The girl looked over at the king, wonder clear on her face. His features were highlighted by that magical light, satisfied with her exuberance, "Yes, it is beautiful, isn't it?"

"Beautiful is not a big enough word," her eyes drifted back to the breathtaking vision. All the kingdom's magic, all its power, was here in this room. The air sparked around her, thick with the static of stardust. Her heart galloped, "Incredible."

Magnifico sauntered forth, standing at the mouth of the cistern. He extended his hand and let the dust fall through his open fingers, "This is my pride and power. This allows my kingdom to exist," his hand closed around a fist full of the brilliant cascade, before letting it fall down into the pit beneath, "This is why you are here, and this will be your main concern when I'm gone. Under no circumstances must the well go dry, if that happens, then this kingdom," his hand swept to the sprawling city, " will cease to exist. You do understand that?"

"Yes, your majesty."

"Good," Magnifico beckoned to two chairs sitting against the wall. They skidded along the polished floor and rocked to a stop a few feet away from where he stood. He waved at the one closest to Asha, "Make yourself comfortable, we have much to talk about."

"Yes, your majesty," she slid into the small chair and yelped. It leapt. Shooting up a few inches before becoming solid wood again.

"Ah, you must excuse me for showing off," the king chuckled as he took the seat across from her, "I do hate chairs that are...ill-fit to their occupants, so these adjust to your height," his own chair jumped half a foot, "Quite convenient I must say."

The girl tapped the leg of the chair with her heel, looking over the side, "Quite."

"Now," he clapped his hands, "As you know, time comes for us all. Though I have enjoyed many years ruling my kingdom, I will not be able to do it forever. Being that my wife and I were not blessed with children, I had to procure a successor. That successor will be you, if all goes well."

Asha nearly gagged, "You mean-"

"Yes, Asha, you will rule Rosas when I am no longer able."

The answer was nonchalant, but the girl reeled in it all the same. Her...a ruler? Oh, if only her father could see her now! How thrilled he would be! Hey Papa, I can take care of everyone now! Isn't it wonderful?! The room stagnated around her.

"Now that we are on the same page," he leaned forward, his teeth far too white, "I am very excited to get to know you, Asha. After all, it takes quite the gall to attempt to fool a king."

She choked, "Excuse me?"

He laughed, it was a rough sound, "I have to admit, the ribbons were a nice touch. The perfect distraction to draw attention from your sleight of hand," he winked, "It would take a practiced eye to catch the trick."

Her thoughts were awash in panic, "Your majesty, I take some offense to your impl-"

His hand went up to stall her defense, "Ah, ah Asha. We can be truthful with each other. I won't hang you for being cunning. That would be very hypocritical, don't you think?"

The girl stayed silent.

"There was a reason why I picked you, Asha. There are simply some things that you can't teach. In all those silly magic shows they lacked one thing. One thing that you have...do you know what that is?"

She shook her head.

"Hunger, Asha. It's hunger. The same hunger that drew you, an albeit poor magician," his hand tilted from side to side to emphasize the point. The girl cringed. "-to seek favor from the king. It takes a fair amount of fearlessness and gumption to accomplish that Señorita," his grin was gilded in the golden light.

She blinked, trying to keep up with the words rushing from the monarch's mouth. She kneaded her hands in her lap, "Excuse my denseness your majesty, but you're telling me that you picked me for my...lack...of skills?"

"Not lack of skills, but your character. I can see greatness in your eyes, Asha. Your father was a good man, it was a tragedy to lose him the way we did. He was good, but he was never great. You Asha," Magnifico rose from his chair and paced in front of her, "greatness radiates from you. You can't teach that; you can't learn that; you're born with that."

"My father was the greatest magician I ever knew."

"Yes, but you will be better."

She paused in the wake of that statement. It was if her head had broken through the surface of some massive sea. Greater than her father? Never in her life had she imagined that she could come close to his skills. She spent the entirety of her childhood running to catch up with him. That gentle giant that she sat in the shadow of...could be surpassed? She stared down into her open palms, "I-I never dreamed-"

"But you did, that's why we're talking after all."

"I suppose you're right," her heart fluttered as her imagination soared. She could see herself, royal magician, then sorceress, then...ruler. Her mother would wear the finest clothes, never again having to callus her hands against the spinning wheel. And her grandfather would live out his final years in peace and prosperity, "You really think so? You really think that I'll be that great?"

"I wouldn't have picked you otherwise."

She gulped, "You flatter me, your highness."

"I am nothing but truthful Señorita, I just ask for the same from you," he paused in his exuberant gesticulating to clench the back of his chair, "Your performance was entertaining to witness, but I am curious about something. You do seem awfully familiar with your constellations."

"I do?"

"Yes, your little 'showstopper,' which gave my wife quite the fright. It was very...life-like. For one as young as yourself, it seems odd that you should know what the stars look like," his lips were still upturned, but his gaze pinned her in that chair.

"My Grandfather was a merchant sailor," the answer came readily, but why did she feel so sick about disclosing it? She pushed down the uneasy feeling, "He would tell me the stories of the night sky before bed. I grew up with them," she smiled back, "I-I consider that the utmost complement, your highness. That my magic could fool you, even for a second."

Magnifico's face fell into something more bland, "Yes...of course. That does make sense. However, he knows better. Those of us who are seafaring should not disclose the secrets of the night sky to the general populace. It's dangerous, often treasonous."

"But your maj-"

"However," his voice rose to cut Asha off, "It is nothing but bedtime stories in this case. I'll allow it. But can I trust that you will know the difference?"

She jumped up from the chair. Her fists balled on either side of her as she looked into that icy stare, "Yes, you can."

"Good," he resembled a cat, content after a meal of mice, "I have something I want to show you," he beckoned to the steps that spiraled above them. She followed the monarch, climbing up until they arrived at the first set of shelves. The king ran his slender fingers over the many emerald backs and paused to pull one out. He flipped it open with a practiced hand and showed the open page to Asha, "This will be your greatest asset as a ruler."

The girl squinted at the characters impressed upon the sheet before her. They were an unfamiliar jumble of lines. The ink changed colors in the shifting light. After several seconds of investigation, she lifted her gaze away from the page and shook her head.

"Not to worry, you will learn to become fluent in the olde language. There's far more to it than simple incantations," he ran his finger down the mysterious list, "These are the desires of the people. Their deepest wants."

"Their wishes."

"Ah, you catch on quick. I knew I liked you!" the king laughed, "Yes, these are wishes. Vital for keeping everyone in Rosas happy," he closed the volume with a snap, "Especially in difficult times. You'll have plenty under your rule, and it's important to know when and where to grant wishes," he slid the book back into place, "I keep very detailed records as you can see. I hope you will continue my work."

Asha's eyes flew up to the numerous books which spanned the surrounding walls, "I will certainly try."

"Marvelous!" the king started to descend before the girl spoke up again.

"I assume that means that you'll be granting quite a few wishes soon?"

He stopped in his tracks and spun around to look up at her, "Why would that be?"

Her brow wrinkled, "Because the ports have been closed, your majesty."

"Ah," he smirked, "Yes I suppose I will be, but truthfully, I hope we will be able to resolve that issue soon."

"I hope so, we get so much from the trade-"

His tone went flat, "I don't need to be lectured on the economics of my own kingdom, I am aware."

"Well then, if you don't mind me asking, your majesty. As a queen in training, I believe I should know why the ports are closed," Asha ended her brazen statement with a gulp, "If we're going to be truthful with each other."

Magnifico laughed to himself, tilting his head to regard the ambitious little creature standing a few steps above, "Yes, we were going to be truthful. Well then Asha, the ports are closed due to reports of plague coming from the continent. I thought it would be best to avoid the unpleasantness we experienced five years ago by cutting it off at the source. As you well know, we lost a lot of good people to the pox."

The girl turned ashen.

"I'm glad you agree with my judgment," he turned and continued his tread back down to the chamber floor, "We will get along well, you and I."

Asha was quick to keep up with him, her mind wandering to the star that was currently taking up residence in the trunk at the end of her bed. She knew the difference, which was why she could never let the king find out. Lest a noose find itself around her neck.

Chapter Text

Asha exited the vault, lost in the fog of the future. The promises whispered to her in that magical room set her mind spinning with visions of wealth and power.

The entrance closed with a muffled word from the king, and they were back in the throne room. She approached the wide balcony that overlooked the parade grounds below. Down there, she'd wrestled with the bull. She gazed upon the abandoned sand pit, shaking her head in wonder of the situation she now found herself in.

This entire sun-kissed city would be hers one day. How proud her mother would be! And her grandfather too! Of course he would have to come around to the idea, but he would soon learn the benefits of royal favor. Besides, he'd never met the king. How could he pass judgment on a monarch who has done nothing but rule with grace and duty? Could the man be all that bad if he was willing to give an inexperienced nobody a chance at the crown?

She leaned against the decorative railing and breathed in the salt-tinged air.

"Well, now that all that's done," Magnifico brushed his hands of any residual stardust, "I shall fetch a servant to show you your lodgings."

The girl turned, "You want me to stay here?"

"Why yes...that is the standard procedure of an apprenticeship. What better way to learn than to be fully immersed in the lifestyle?"

"Ah," she gripped the balustrade tight, "I am...honored and delighted in your offer, but-"

"But?" his voice took on a sharp edge.

The girl swallowed, "My grandfather is very old and very ill. I would be devastated if I missed the time that I have left," Even if he despises me, she closed her eyes at the internal addendum. Gaining her strength again, she met the ruler's gaze, "You understand how important family is, your majesty."

Magnifico paused, his eyelids fluttering. The ring on his thumb was red hot against his skin. A glance assured him that it wasn't aflame, though where it touched felt blistered and scarred, "Yes, I suppose that is important...isn't it?" He coughed, composure restored, his hands folded behind his back, "Very well, it would be cruel to deny such a request. As long as you arrive early...and I mean before dawn...everyday, then I will let you spend your evenings away from the castle."

Asha dropped into a deep bow, "Thank you so much your majesty I-"

His sturdy hand rested against her shoulder, "Rise Asha, you needn't bow before your equal."

Her back straightened; she eyed him on the way up.

"No need to be suspicious Señorita, we're all monarchs here," he gave her a wink, "now go collect that wild cousin of yours and enjoy the rest of your day. We'll start first thing tomorrow with your normal regimen."

"Yes-" Asha had to restrain herself from bowing, "I shall see you then, your majesty."

She was dismissed with a wave. She made a quick exit out of the throne room and stepped out of sight. There she fell against the wall and reveled in her excitement. Her hand covered her mouth to keep down the ecstatic giggles that shook her body. It was all too good to be true! How lucky she was to live on this beautiful island, ruled by such a virtuous and strong king! She had the wrestle every muscle in her body to keep from jumping. Once restrained, she started down the curving steps, stopping midway when she could see the entry hall...empty.

Where had that boy gone?!

Asha gathered her skirts and sprinted the rest of the way. Her head jerked around, turning to investigate the many hallways that spread around her.

"Sol," Asha hissed through gritted teeth, "Sol, where the heck are you?"

The sound of crashing pans interrupted her frantic search. Letting out a rather rude exclamation, Asha swung around to see Dahlia crouched over the mess, reconstructing the tedious pile with a shaking hand.

The girl forgot her original task and rushed over to help her friend. Crouching down she started to stack the hodgepodge assembly of cookwear in her own arms.

"Asha!" Dahlia yelped at the girl's sudden appearance.

"Why are you carrying so much?" Asha grunted as she shifted the load to her knee, "It's dangerous."

"Ah Asha!" the baker groaned as she rose with her own stack held, impressively, with one arm, "Everything's gone crazy overnight! You know that they've halted all trade, right?"

"Yes because of the plague."

"What?"

"That's what the king told me."

"Oh," Dahlia shrugged, "I suppose that makes sense. Not like we got an explanation! All we were told to do was to replenish the food stores. I mean, I spent the whole morning worrying that we were going to war!" She cracked her crutch against the floor, her brow furrowed, "And I've got this sick feeling in my stomach that won't go away. Ugh, there's so much going on!"

"I suppose you haven't been able to talk to Simon, have you?"

Dahlia's eyes fell to the floor, "Let's get these to the kitchen, it's getting heavy."

"You sure you don't want to talk about it?"

The baker turned and started to hobble down a nondescript hallway that a normal passerby would have missed. Asha sighed and followed, her eyes sweeping the immediate area for any signs of the missing star. Her head peered into open doorways and stuck out primitive windows, but to no avail. She grumbled in her frustration as she continued after her friend.

"I'm worried about him," Dahlia finally admitted as they entered yet another door. Asha swore they were getting smaller and smaller the further along they went. She stooped through a particularly low archway, her gaze sweeping the dim chamber for any sign of Sol.

"You know how his family depends on the good fishing waters we have around the island," the baker continued, shimmying her assembly of metal through a needle-thin passageway. Asha peered around her friend to see the flickering light of a fire illuminating the other side. The sound of hurried voices and clanking cookware grew louder the closer they got. The short girl with her flour speckled hair kept on prattling, but Asha had ceased to listen. Her attention pulled to every nook or inlet that they passed. Still no sight of him. She was going to throw that boy in the stockade when she found him! That sneaky...conniving.... 'I've got a few millennia on you,' she scowled at the recollection. Ugh, he was going to drive her mad!

The pair emerged atop a short set of stairs. It was only four steps, but that small ledge was high enough to allow one to marvel at the castle's fiery underbelly. And marvel Asha did. Wide-eyed she took in the sights, sounds, and, to the misfortune of her growling stomach, the smells. Multitudes of shapes rushed here and there, highlighted by the massive fire which roared in the hearth that errupted from the center of the room. The space reverberated with the sounds of food preparation. The only spoken words were commands, the only motions were hurried. Both wild and highly regimented, if she hadn't had Dahlia as a friend, Asha would have been sure the kitchen staff were entirely rendered from stardust, another tournament feat to be judged by the king.

"Asha, did you hear me?" Dahlia shouted over the cacophony.

The girl blinked, "N-no sorry," she shifted her pile of cookware, "Say it again."

The baker's face fell a small degree, before she recovered her laid back smile, "I said, would you mind checking on Simon for me?"

"I don't know Dahlia; he didn't look too great the other day. Don't you think he'd like to talk to you more?"

"I can't, there's too much work to do. Please!"

"Look-"

"DAHLIA!"

Both girls jumped at the coarse shout that exploded from across the kitchen. The pans that Asha had been holding tumbled to the floor. Her hands scrambled in the air, attempting to save whatever she could, but she only came back with a dented pot. The rest of the bronze cookware spilled down the steps, rolling in all different directions. A plate traveled for several feet before a worn shoe stopped its journey. Attached to that shoe was the stocky, but fierce, mother of Dahlia.

The woman looked both girls up and down before snarling, "Dahlia there's too much to be done! Now wish your friend good day and get moving!" After a breath, she nodded toward the magician, her voice letting up, "By the by, congratulations on the apprenticeship Asha, I know you'll do your father proud."

"T-thanks."

The mother's attention switched back to her daughter, "Now!"

The young baker turned around, mouthing please over and over again. She started descending the stairs under the hawkish stare of her mother. Her eyes never dropping their pleading look.

"Alright!" her friend relinquished her fight, following Dahlia down the stairs so she could pick up the fallen cookware. She reached down for the nearest pot, "I'll go see Simon."

The baker dropped her unwieldy load against the nearest table and jumped to give her friend a one-armed bear hug.

****

Asha exited through the kitchen's back door and into the blinding light beyond. She rubbed her eyes, fighting the stars that floated before her vision. She still hadn't found Sol. It was any guess where he was. Perhaps he had never left the castle and he was blissfully wandering through the endless passageways, begging to be caught.

She groaned. How did one keep a wayward star in check? Weigh down his ankles with stones? Lock her door and board up her window? Truss him like a chicken and toss him in the trunk for good? No...perhaps not the last one. She hissed. Was her wish still worth it if she had to wrangle him everyday? She thought for a second. Yes...it was. Or, rather, it had to be. Otherwise, how else would she stay within the king's good graces? Even he would tire of her uselessness eventually. She rubbed a sore spot at the back of her neck before beginning her trek through the gardens. She wound her way toward the main courtyard, veering toward the south gate because it was due to be opened to receive its daily visitors.

As she crossed the small drawbridge, she squirmed past the flow of humanity. Some carried sacks filled with flour, meal, and spices. Others wheeled by in carts piled high in salted meats. And yet others balanced poles upon their shoulders where jugs of wine danced and clinked. Though within the whirl of workers, there stood another part of Rosas. Weary, these bowed heads moved with the river of commerce, casting the odd glance at those around them whom were there for the same purpose. They came, by one, by two, by more, mothers pulling children, men trailing wives, a grandfather or grandmother trembling in the bridge's vibration. They were today's wishers, on their way to ask the king to grant their needs and desires. Some would be granted, others not, but such was the nature of wishes. The girl understood this well, fore some wishes could be frivilous, or downright stupid. Yes, sometimes people could ask for the most foolish, impossible, things. Asha bade them good luck nonetheless, wasting no thoughts on her own wish as she moved against the tide.

She exited to even more crowded streets. People rushed here and there, carrying food, supplies, and wares. It was a mix of panic and cool urgency as people prepared for the worst. The girl swallowed in the midst of it, her mind turning to all the things that her own family would need. She breathed out through clenched teeth, the thought of fighting her way through the bazaar on a day like this was less than appealing. In the midst of weighing her options, her sight caught on a familiar figure. Her neck craned above the rush.

There, at the mouth of an alleyway, Sol knelt in front of a young boy.

Asha's hands clenched. She was mad enough to breathe fire as she marched over to the pair. A few steps away, she saw the star cup his hand behind the boy's ear. He pretended to pull something out, then with a flourish he presented the eager child with a gold piece. The child whooped with delight and snatched the coin before tearing down the road toward whatever route led him home.

Sol smiled in his wake and stood, brushing stardust from his hands. That was until Asha reached him. She grabbed the front of his shirt and jerked. His head dropped to meet the vision of fury, "Oh, great timing! We need to talk."

"Where were you?" she hissed.

The boy looked down at where her hand fisted his shirt, "I thought you liked personal space?"

Asha let out a strained sigh and let go of him. Her hands found her hips, "You can't just go disappearing on me like that! There's a lot of stuff you can...get into."

"I can handle myself," he smirked, "Seriously though," he grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the rush of people and into the narrow alleyway beyond, "we need to talk."

The magician struggled against his grip, but his hold was too firm. Once they had gotten far enough down the crooked space, he let her go. She stumbled back, catching herself against the wall. She seethed, scowling at the boy who was going to give her an ulcer, "What, then?"

He leaned over her, she tensed at the closeness, "Did you know that your queen is a star?"

Her heart froze, "What?"

"I've been looking for someone," he continued, his eyes roving the empty space behind her, "And here she is. Hidden from the night sky by an enchanted sun. Quite clever I must admit."

The girl pushed him away, her expression incredulous, "You're joking, tell me that you're joking!"

He shook his head.

Her hands flew up to knot themselves in her hair, "I mean...how? Who is she?"

"Cassiopeia," he spat the name.

"You mean the constellation...the queen in the sky?"

"Well, not the entire constellation, just her," his finger traced the image in the air between them, "See there's usually five points but now there's only four. Those four are the guards that keep her...in place."

"Then what is she doing down here?"

"Long story short, they really like mead," he shrugged.

Asha started pacing, "So you're telling me, the queen, the wife of my employer...the KING... is a runaway star?"

Sol checked behind his shoulder, "Keep it down, but yes," his thumbs rested in the hem of his pants, "It does make sense if you think about it. All your kingdom's little idiosyncrasies. The stardust, and how you use it, she's like your personal Prometheus."

The girl stopped her nervous movements, "Pro-me-the-us?"

"Never mind, it'd take too long to explain. What I'm saying is, she brought the knowledge of the stars to you...here," he pointed at the packed dirt path below them, "Albeit against the general laws of nature, but she brought it."

She crossed her arms, looking the boy up and down, "I don't know if I believe you."

He threw up his hands, "Look, I know it sounds mad.... worse than mad, even...but isn't using stardust on the daily just as bonkers? People who weren't from here would think it was all-" He bit his tongue, dropping his head, "Just," he peered up at her from his mess of brown hair, "Just be careful...ok?"

"Alright," her tone wary, "Though, I do want to know what you intend to do with this information."

"Short of jumping her with a sack," his attention wandered past the girl and to the passing shadows of the street beyond, "I'll have to think of a better plan..."

"Well, I would appreciate it if you didn't start a coup. I have my whole career tied up in this and I don't think the king will be pleased if you made off with-"

"Is this normal commerce for your village?"

The girl followed the star's gaze and her stomach rolled at the massing crowd shuffling and shoving their way down the street. She started to respond before her head snapped back, "Wait a second, you're ignoring me!"

"Not ignoring," he levitated a few inches to get a better look, "Only noticing."

She pulled him back to earth, "Look me in the eyes and promise me that you won't start a coup," her mouth was hard.

He met her hazel stare with a smile, "I won't start a coup."

"Grand," she exhaled, "We already have enough problems on our hands with the closure of the ports," her arm swung to the amassing crush.

The boy blinked, "ALL ports?"

"Yeah, reports of plague," her face was drawn, "precautions, you know?"

"Ah," Sol's throat dried, his thoughts erratic. That devious woman. How did she know? There was no way she could be certain that he was here...right? He looked over the girl's head without really seeing what was there. Was she keeping him in or keeping reinforcements out? He ran his tongue over his teeth. Or was she merely hedging her bets?

"Come on," Asha cut through his fog, her hand grasped his, "It's only going to get more hectic and I don't want to be here when the troublemakers come around," she pulled and he followed, "I have a friend to meet, think you can handle that?"

He looked down at their joined hands, confusion punching through the anxiety. He nodded, but she wasn't looking.

Chapter Text

Shouts and curses could still be heard from the nearby dock, but they were fragmented and bitter instead of the volcanic rage from earlier in the day. After hours of abuse, people were starting to make their way home, resigned to the machinations of their king. The last fighters left were putting up a decent stand, but even their number was falling off and making the long tread home to fill their stomachs while they still could.

Climbing the hill in that sullen air, the pair came upon a cottage looming dark over the scene. Asha could see Simon sitting on a stump, a few paces from his front door. His hands were busying themselves with a net. Full of seaweed and other refuse, his fingers danced across the muck and grime to dislodge the mess. She studied his expression from afar, his mouth was set in concentration, not anger.

She pursed her lips, and looked over at Sol, "You stay right here, ok?"

The corner of his lips rose, taunting, "What do you mean, aren't I your cousin Armando?"

"Alessandro."

He nodded, "Exactly!"

"Exactly why you're staying here," she stamped her foot for emphasis, "I'll only be a few minutes anyway," she spun to face the cottage again, "It's a favor, that's all."

The boy didn't reply, but when she approached Simon, she walked alone. She could see the corpse of the hollowed-out barn rising above the stubby cottage. It looked even worse one day on, she really had to make it right with him. Her fingers wound themselves into a loose fist and knocked against her thigh with every step. She got to the front gate and unlatched the leather strap that held it in place. The old wood creaked, but the stout boy kept on with his task. Asha's boots crushed the grass underfoot as she edged her way over to the tree stump. She was not ten paces away when he spoke.

"Ah, a lady is approaching! To what do I owe this illustrious visitor who deigns to grace my humble abode!" his eyes never lifted from the net.

Asha cringed at the sardonic tone. She held her breath, looping her hands behind her back, "I just wanted to check up on you. You disappeared so quick the other day...Dahlia was really worried."

He made a face, "It's nothing. I'm over it."

"You don't look like you're over it."

Simon yanked out a nasty-looking piece of seaweed and flung it at Asha's feet. She let out a small gasp of surprise, leaping away from the slimy thing.

"What, you want me to talk about it?" he sneered, "Believe me I have enough to say about it, and about you, but it's not fit for repeating among 'polite society,'" he raised a clammy hand in salute, "So see yourself out, if you please...I'm busy."

The girl continued to watch the boy as he wrestled with the sludge filled net. She finally sighed and started to turn back toward the open gate. She took a step before shutting her eyes tight and whirling back around. She stomped her way right up to the sulking boy and gave his shoulder a shove, "Look, I know you're embarrassed. I know yesterday was the worst day ever! But for..." she gesticulated manically, the boy's eyes aflame in her shadow, "You can't sit around and feel sorry about yourself. I mean, Dahlia is sick about you! And I-"

"I couldn't care less about how you feel," his words were frigid.

"Well sorry for being a concerned friend!" she bit back.

"Concerned?!" the boy jumped from his stump, looming over Asha like a giant, "A concerned friend wouldn't have burned down my barn!"

"I told you I would make it right!"

"Oh, FORGET IT!" he yelled, turning away from the girl and grabbing the fallen net. He sat back down on the stump, his back to her. His voice dropped to something low and throaty, "What do you want me to do, congratulate you? Tell you how much of a good person you are? Fall to my knees and admire how you took a few seconds out of your day to see how 'poor old Simon' was doing?" he shot her a poisonous look over his shoulder, "Well I hate to be a downer, but I have no intention of puffing up your ego like everyone else has. You lied and cheated your way to the top. You stole that position from someone far more deserving than you. At least I lost with honor."

Flames licked at the corners of her vision, her acidic tongue rolled in her mouth, "Spare me the sanctimony, you lost because you weren't good enough!"

She could see his shoulders tense at the words. Her stomach clenched with guilt, but she shoved it down, "You should have practiced more...or maybe waited! Simon, you're still not well after-"

A dark laugh cut through her diatribe, "Maybe you're right. Maybe I should have waited. Maybe I should have trained more. But I imagine the king will have a different opinion of you once he finds out what a fraud you are."

Her chin lifted, "Ironically, he congratulated me for my 'gumption.' Said it showed that I had greatness."

Simon twisted around to gawk at her, his face pale, "You lie!"

"You wish!"

The boy shook his head, his expression turned rancid, "There will be a day when this all will catch up to you, Asha. And be assured that I will be the first one there to watch you fall," he went back to his work, his focus only on the net across his knees.

The girl began to retort when a heavy hand landed on her shoulder. She started and looked back to see Sol. His face was flat, but his eyes held enough disappointment to dress her down several times over. She grimaced and wrenched herself from his hold, marching out of the yard and away from the unpleasant situation.

The star hissed through clenched teeth as he made his own exit. Latching the gate, he paused there, his hands pressed against the brittle wood. He looked again toward the crestfallen boy and suppressed a groan.

Hopelessness poured from Simon, noxious and thick, it was enough to make him ill. And that wish! Oh, he could hear it ring on and on! It echoed...it rumbled...it crashed upon his ears. His hands clapped over them, but then it was trapped, scratching against his brain...carving its name on the inside of his skull. He swallowed; he couldn't grant that wish...but he could...

He leaned over the gate, "Hey there Simon, don't give up just yet. There'll be other tourneys!"

The boy leapt in surprise, the net spilling to the ground again. He swung around to face the stranger calling to him, "How do you know my name?"

The star ignored the question, "Trust me, you'll be able to do it someday. You will get your wish, even if it takes time."

"My...wish...who are you?"

"Ah!" Sol slapped his forehead, "Look at the time, I got to run! It was nice talking with you Simon," he winked, "Remember to keep practicing! I'd say you've got plenty of time to get started today! Ciao!" With that he turned and bolted away from the cottage, his elbows pumping double time.

Simon watched after the fleeing boy, perplexed in the residue of the odd exchange. He shook his head, bending down to retrieve the net, only to drop it in shock.

It was clean, almost brand new.

He looked up, wanting to call after the strange boy with his funny accent and nervous energy. But when the shout collected in his chest he found the road empty.

****

Asha bent over the parchment, carefully adding detail to the vague shapes she'd scrawled there two nights before. Drawing back to appraise her work, Capricornus regarded her with a snide expression. She scrunched her nose. Darn, she'd made him look too much like Valentino. She glanced over her shoulder to see the goat in question snuffling around the empty trunk.

Her eyebrows furrowed; Sol still wasn't back. She swore, once that boy got an inch he took a league. She grumbled to herself as she darkened the stars of the constellation, giving structure to the connective tissue of the sea-dwelling creature.

Leaning too close to her work, a tension headache developed. She squinted, running her knuckles over her brow. Well, perhaps it wasn't just the closeness. She'd had her fill of anger. Now, in between the ticks and scratches, she was milling over the sharp words she'd exchanged with Simon. Her head throbbed at the vivid recollection.

The quill rang against the bottom of the inkwell and her hands flew up to cover her face, "Ugh...I'm such a jerk."

"You said it, not me."

Her hands dropped, "There you are."

Sol sat on the other side of the open window; his elbows propped up on the sill. His smile wavered, "Remind me to never rely on you to defuse a situation. You're more volatile than Greek fire."

Asha's stomach clenched again, "Sol, I am tired enough. I don't want to get into another fight this evening if I can help it."

He drew back a few inches, taking in her expression, "You do know that Simon's just in a bad way, right? He didn't mean half of what he said...he just needs space...that's all."

"Yeah," Asha growled, taking up the quill again, "We all need space."

The boy's fingers drummed light against the sill, watching as she scratched out hundreds of little hash marks across the scroll. He leaned closer, his shoulders slipping through the window.

Asha could feel the heat of his body, suspended centimeters above her. The ink-laden point hit the parchment with a frustrated tick creating an ugly blot against Aquarius's foot.

Her face rose to meet Sol, nose to nose, "I can't work with you breathing down my neck!"

"Wow," was all he said in response. He looked upon the star map in wonder, the entire image now visible without the girl hovering over it.

Before Asha could further voice her displeasure, the map was swiped from the table and quickly absconded with.

She leapt from her stool and reached through the casement, but the boy dodged away from her grasping fingers. He perched atop her window with one leg slung over the side. It swung lazy, back and forth, as he took in the details that spilled from the parchment.

"The ink still needs to dry, you know! It's going to run all over the place if you keep moving it!"

Sol's head dropped in front of her, his upside-down face grinning, "This is amazing, Asha!"

"Thanks, now, can I have it back?" she reached above the window frame and felt for the stolen map. A flash of black lines interrupted her search as Sol shoved the open scroll in her face.

"You know if the whole apprenticeship-thing doesn't work out, you would make an excellent astronomer!"

She snatched the parchment from his hands, scoffing, "Astronomy, please," she weighted down the curling corners with stones and bet over the piece to blow on the dampened ink.

"What? You'd be great at it! Besides, you'd give them a run for their money. You'd be the first astronomer to personally know a star!"

She paused and glanced up at the eager face, "Do you know how much studying that would take? Besides, it makes next to no income. I mean, you have to be rich to even-"

"Cairo isn't that far away."

Asha stared at him for a second before the boy shrugged, "Just something to think about."

The girl busied herself with smoothing out the wrinkles Sol had created in his excitement, "Why don't you come inside. Somebody's going to notice you floating out there...even if you're not glowing."

"Fine...fine..." he mumbled, somersaulting over himself and flying through the window on his back.

In his bid to show off, his foot nudged the canister of stardust and it wobbled.

Asha's head snapped to the rocking clay jar.

It started to steady.

She breathed

Then it proceeded to tip, flip, and shatter next to her foot.

The girl let out a strangled cry and dropped to her knees. Her fingers clawing at the stardust as it slid through the gaps in the wood floor.

"Look what you did!" she chastised the now golden boy.

"I'm sor-"

"Help me!" she shot back, her hands frantic as they scooped the fast-receding dust and deposited it in the divot she made in her skirt.

"Asha is everything ok?" a muffled yell rose up from downstairs.

"Everything's fine Yemma! I just dropped something. I'm cleaning it up now!" the girl fought to keep her voice measured.

Sol knelt across from her. His hand splayed over the disappearing stardust, he made a motion as if pinching the air, then pulled. And with it came the golden dust that had leaked into the room below. Asha stared in wonder as it twisted in the air, landing with a soft breath in the palm of his hand.

Wait...

She blinked. That wasn't right. There were only a few grains there. A mere dusting!

She looked up in dismay, "Where's the rest?"

He tossed the dust in the air and caught it again, "This is the rest."

"What-" she looked down as the last grains slipped through the cracks. Underneath her scrambling fingers was, "Sand..." she reached into the handful she had saved in her skirt and let it run through her loose hands.

"Well, that's a relief," the star breathed, "No wonder you haven't blown yourself up yet, it's not pure."

"But it's supposed to be."

Sol stood and slid the pinch of stardust onto the open map, "Seems to me that the king would want to keep the real stuff to himself," he reached down, offering her a hand up, "Don't you think?"

She brushed the rest of the sand from her lap and watched it run through the gaps, "What could you do with that amount of stardust."

"Nothing dangerous."

Asha looked up at the star, "I suppose it's to make sure we don't get ourselves into too much trouble...huh?"

"Perhaps."

She shook her head; she was thinking too much. Of course, the regular supply of stardust would be weakened for public consumption. There was only so much to go around, if it had to be expanded with sand...so be it. Because if the well went dry, the kingdom would fall. That's what the king had said.

The girl reached up and took the boy's hand. 

Chapter Text

No one knew the stranger. Or that there even was one to begin with. Sometimes he was towheaded, other times as red as the setting sun, and yet other times his hair shone as black as a raven's feathers. However he came, he left before there was a moment to commit him to memory. A mumbled apology then an offering pressed into the hands of those who wished, was the bulk of the interaction. On rare occasions it was money, but more often it was food. Most didn't know how they came to acquire such a gift, all they saw was a shadow turning down a nearby alley before looking down at the prize they held.

No one saw the boy after he had scuttled away. They couldn't have known how tired he was getting, how weak, how worried. They wouldn't have seen him pull off that indigo cloak and laugh at the sky. Exuberant that he could find a single moment of happiness in a sea of misery.

And no one could have known how it was all slowly killing him.

Chapter Text

The sword arced silver against the fountain's light. Asha screamed and leapt to the side before the blade shattered the floor where she'd stood. Lodged deep in its newly created fissure, it stuck there at an angle.

But the empty armor was an eager foe. Wasting no time, the sword was freed from its marble prison and raised once again over the young magician's head.

Magnifico leaned against the wall of the chamber, cleaning his nails as the girl hurried past him, and the clanking pile of metal crashed along after.

"Take him out of my control Asha," he mused, "Then he'll stop bothering you."

"I know!" she panted, grabbing hold of a nearby chair and flinging it at the iron beast. It was cleaved in half by a single blow.

The girl gulped and ran faster.

"Oh...I liked that chair," the king frowned, "Do mind the antiques in this room, Asha. Most are worth more than your life."

"Got it!" she answered through clenched teeth. She made a quick turn and the blade slashed the tapestry behind her. She heard the monarch mutter something akin to 'priceless artifact,' before the sword cut the air and stopped at her throat.

"Checkmate," Magnifico sighed, disappointment hung on every syllable, "You lose."

The armor went slack. The sword falling away, her shaking fingers pressed where it had lain. She felt something wet, drawing her hand away, she saw smudges of blood. She set her jaw, he was messing with her now.

The king pushed himself off the wall and prowled around the back of the disenchanted armor. He clicked his tongue, shaking his head, "Asha, we've drilled this so many times. What is the issue?"

"No issue," she fought to keep her voice steady, "Just haven't been able to find an opening."

His smile didn't reach his eyes, "Not good enough."

Asha's mouth twitched. She could feel her fingernails break skin as her fists clenched tighter. Her stomach took this moment to also reprimand her, growling deep and fierce, she felt the organ drop low. But after two weeks she had ceased to notice its regular complaint. She had become familiar with the light headedness that the lack of food often wrought. Well practiced in her fight, she coped as she was accustomed, blinking far too often and listing a bit to the side.

If the king noticed her struggle, he didn't mention it. Resting an elbow on the shoulder of the imaginary knight, his expression was unimpressed, "Even the poorest magician can deliver under stress...again!"

The girl winced at the harsh tone. Brushing more stardust over her hands, it popped and fizzed against her skin, etching new lines upon her palms. She swallowed her cry. True stardust was painful, much more so than her practice supply. But after the burning, there was an electric buzz, a collection of static which rippled along her arms, down her back, to the ends of her hair. This rush...that was something its dulled, sand-ridden, brother could never compete with. The unadulterated feeling of power.

She bowed before her opponent, her knees bent and ready to spring.

"Ready," she rasped.

The sound of scratching metal filled the room as the empty helmet snapped up to look at her.

"Ok Papa, I could really use some advice right now!"

But she was met with silence.

She waved it aside. No worries, she could figure this out, she just had to find an opening. Her weight shifted to the balls of her feet, "Or make one".

The armor grasped the hilt with both hands as Asha hurtled toward it. And the hulking creature paused for a moment. Confused - if it could experience such an emotion - by the frenzied magician hurrying her doom. But confused or not, the blade still rose as she closed in. Pulled up over the attacker's head, it began it's descent. Though chin tucked and breath held, she slammed against the breastplate.

The killing stroke was halted.

Her palms slid, clammy, against the cool metal. Her eyes squeezed shut and her brow furrowed.

"Ama-gi!" she announced calm and clear, the words reverberating within the iron suit. She felt the plating shudder under her touch. She breathed out, she had done it! Finally, after all this time! She stepped away from her assailant, looking over toward the king and flashing a victorious smile. Now try and tell her she couldn't-

The metal gauntlet backhanded her. The air knocked from her lungs, she hit the marble floor hard, the sword following after.

"Checkmate, I win."

"Wait a second!" The girl tried to slide out from underneath the blade, but it remained, poised over her heart. Her head turned toward the king instead, "I was able to touch it! And my pronunciation was right this time!"

"And yet the spell wasn't strong enough," Magnifico chastised as he walked toward the prone apprentice. His movements were casual, but his eyes flared in the light of the well, "Anyone can say a spell," he loomed over her, the sword moved, pressing against her cheek, "It takes talent to execute it."

"I was trying," her voice horse as she felt the indentation of the blade with every word.

"Obviously not hard enough! If you actually had tried you would have easily wrested the enchantment away," the sword retracted, the armor was lifeless again as the king tutted, "If you don't want to be serious about this fine. There are plenty of candidates who are more capable than you."

Asha rolled onto her elbows, "You're going to replace me?"

The king shrugged, his glare chilling her to the core, "Why not, Asha? You haven't shown me anything exceptional and we've been at this for more than a fortnight," his cape billowed as he turned from her, "Perhaps it was a mistake to pick you."

The girl was on her feet, spent stardust littering the floor around her. Her hands shook. How dare he replace her! How dare he throw her away without a thought! Couldn't he see how she was trying? She was tired, she was hungry, she was...done! Something dark surged through her, her bottom jaw jutting out as she screamed, "NO!"

The king stopped in his tracks, sucking in air through his teeth. A line of red split his sleeve, starting thin and growing larger. The apprentice recoiled in horror.

The sword in the armor's grasp was dripping blood.

"Your majesty!" Asha threw herself before the monarch, "A thousand apologies! I never meant-"

"Stand you fool!" His words were frigid.

She was encased in ice.

"I said stand up!"

Asha stumbled on her feet, wobbling under the monarch's eyes, "I'm sor-"

"No apologies!" The wound had started to ooze down the off-white sleeve, but he held his hands behind his back like he didn't notice. He cleared his throat, his tone losing some of its edge, "Very good!"

The girl, who'd been resolving herself to expulsion, now melted in the wake of the compliment, "R-really your majesty?"

A smile wound its way onto Magnifico's face, "It's a marvelous start, and a positive end to our day today," he drenched his hands in stardust, issuing a swift clap, all the damaged items within the room knit themselves back together, "You are excused Asha, we'll make up for the lost time tomorrow. You will be riding with me then."

Her mouth fell open, but she quickly closed it for fear of being improper, "To grant wishes, your majesty?"

"Indeed, the loss of our ports has been wearing thin on people. A little happiness should quell some of the recent...unpleasantness.

The girl nodded her understanding. In lieu of the usual wish granting proceedings, the king had opted to embark on a goodwill campaign throughout the kingdom. Visiting the many struggling families and honoring their deepest desires. Asha had seen the cavalcade go by several times during these past few weeks. Flanked with trumpeters and awash in blue and flashing silver, the parade rode along on white horses. Their presence had become so regular, many people simply stepped to the side and continued with their business, the spectacle of the event gone. But Asha watched every time.

"I am certain it will be most educational, your highness," she bobbed her head, excitement running through her body like a lit fuse.

The king's smile loosened, falling into something more reflective as he picked something up from the newly repaired desk, "Oh, I hope so," he turned the object around in his hand, studying it. Asha paused there, waiting for Magnifico to dismiss her. When he turned away, she took that as her cue and started walking backwards toward the exit.

"By the way."

She went rigid.

"Here," the monarch threw the small item over his shoulder. Asha dove to catch it before it hit the floor. It landed in her grasping fingers, and as she rose to dust herself off, she realized it was a lead paperweight.

"Umm..."

"Homework," the king answered, "That should be gold by tomorrow morning."

"Yeah sure...I'll definitely make that happen", she groaned internally, but all the king got in response was, "Yes your majesty."

She was officially excused then. She clenched the paperweight tight and barreled out of the chamber. Her stomach growled again. An old reflex, her hand jumped to cradle it. But staring down at it hovering there, her fingers tightened into a fist and fell to her side. Her situation wasn't as bad as many others in the city. Most people were lucky to eat every second or third day, she and her family had the benefit of at least one daily meal. She bit the inside of her cheek, if it wasn't for the king's favor she would be begging in the streets like everyone else.

Shaking herself of the grim realization, she crossed the throne room at a light jog, eager to get home and start working on the miracle the king was asking of her. Her mind a mess, her focus was on the ground when she collided with the queen.

Asha looked up, her mouth agape before Amaya reached out and shoved her away.

"I have never had such displeasure," the words were sharp, but they were delivered with a honeyed tone.

The young magician swallowed under this towering figure, "I apologize your highness-"

"Is that how you regard your queen!" warm eyes were ringed by dimpled cheeks.

"Oh!" the girl gasped, so out of practice over these recent weeks, she dropped into a clumsy bow. A small spark of indignance rested on her tongue, but she bit it back. She may be equals with the king, but something told her that the queen would beg to differ.

Her mind flitted to that long ago conversation in the alleyway, but she flung it away. Simply because the woman was intimidating, didn't mean that she was a star.

Just be careful...ok? 

Asha swallowed, "My deepest apologies for my abhorrent behavior."

Amaya didn't grace her groveling with a reply. The girl sweat under the royal gaze, until a sharp nail stabbed the underside of her chin and pushed her head up, "You are my husband's apprentice, are you not?"

Bewildered, the girl grappled with the simple answer, "Yes... your highness."

The woman looked her up and down, her soft features appearing hawkish in their movements. Asha's arms were awash in goosebumps.

"Not much to look at, are we?" the queen purred.

The girl's throat constricted, fighting against the retort that burned there, "I suppose not, your highness."

The woman scoffed, her talons releasing the girl's chin to bat away her answer, "How dull," she started to circle. Asha could feel those sharp eyes dissect her as the queen continued her rotation, "peasant dress, untidy hair, and a horrid posture. How remarkably unremarkable," she ended her assessment with a sniff, "How in the world did a such a common thing catch my husband's eye?"

The young magician rose out of her veneration, "If you'll allow me to speak on my behalf, your highness. His majesty says he admires my character."

"I didn't say you could rise!" Amaya hissed back.

The girl dropped back into the bow, internally fuming.

"Character," the woman chuckled after a few seconds of silence, "Now that is a fantastic lie. You're nothing if not nameless, just one of the rabble caterwauling out there on the streets. No A-sha," she bent down, her breath frigid on the girl's ear, "You're keeping secrets from us...aren't you?"

The magician's breath caught. Her mind twisted through a million different answers, each one worse than the last. The only consistency was the pounding, "How does she know? How in the world does she know?" She bit the inside of her cheek, she was letting too much time pass, "No, your highness!" exploded from her chest. She cringed, ah that answer was too quick! Too suspicious. Her fists clenched.

The queen harrumphed, "No, I suppose you're too dull for even that. Oh, how my husband has unusual tastes."

The girl's shoulders loosened as the danger passed. Though her skin still crawled in the presence of this woman, the very air was electric around her. Like a room full of stardust. She shoved away Sol's insane theory again, "May I take my leave, your highness?"

"Yes," the monarch acquiesced, already moving past Asha and toward the chamber beyond. Hearing the retreating footsteps, the girl picked up her skirts and bolted from the room. Never in her life had she wanted to escape so badly.

****

Amaya had been making herself scarce ever since her husband's new pet project started showing up. Having seen the loathsome creature face to face, she was even more perturbed. So unimpressive, how could this child ever hope of filling her husband's shoes. She scowled, all that this horrid little thing succeeded at was stealing away the time she had left with her beloved.

She swept into the chamber, approaching the golden fall of stardust. She caught some in her eager hands, splashing it over her face like water from a wash basin. She felt it melt into her pores. Eyes closed; she breathed deep. The metallic taste stayed in her mouth as it filtered down through her body. She basked in the glow, enjoying the wondrous feeling. Under the influence of stardust, she remembered that she was still alive.

"Have you had your fill, mi amore?"

She opened her eyes and regarded her husband. He was lounging on a nearby chair, wrapping his arm with-

Amaya flew to him, pulling away the half-wrapped bandages to reveal the injury, "She hurt you!" she spat.

Magnifico's hand reached up to cup hers, "Now Cassie, it's very shallow."

"That wretched-"

"Ah, ah!" he interjected, pulling the bandages from her grasp. He started wrapping once again, "She's just eager and easy to motivate," he pulled the dressing tight, grimacing as it compressed the cut, "a little too easy," he looked toward his wife, "You don't mind tying this off, do you?"

Her frown deepened, taking up the loose ends, she took care to be gentle as she cinched the binding. She watched the king's expression as she completed the knot, making sure that his eyes didn't shrink, or his brow wrinkled. It had been a long time since she had experienced pain, but that ghost of a memory was enough to rescue him from it. She caressed her handiwork, "How does that feel, Cariño?"

He rolled his arm, his mouth turned down, but he nodded his approval all the same. The queen sighed, bending down, she pressed her lips against the bandages. Her kiss seared through the wrappings and cauterized his wound, Magnifico shivered. Oh, how he wanted to hold her! To release her hair from its tight braid and let it fall over them as they got lost in each other's touch. His fingers gripped his knees tight. Ah, but there was work to be done. Too much work.

As if she could read his mind, she settled herself in the adjoining seat. Studying him as her legs crossed, "Have you found anything yet?"

His head wrenched away, the amorous feelings dissipated, "Unfortunately, no."

"And you've been meeting with all of them?"

"Yes, of course! Every sailor, fisherman, and deckhand I can find. Not to mention all the magicians we have running around! But no one has any information nor would be willing to volunteer any when prompted," the ring spun, "so little respect for their ruler."

"You were always far too generous," the queen's grip was iron against the arms of the chair, "Those sailors with their freedom and magicians with their stardust. My, they all think too much of themselves! Do they forget who granted them these gifts?!"

"Indeed," Magnifico focused on the arcade that wrapped around them. The fuzzy impression of the town lay beyond. Ack, how bad his eyesight had become! He squinted but that did nothing. Focusing on those vague, far away shapes, he shuddered to think that a star ran amok through them. His hopes that their celestial problem had merely granted a wish and left had been dashed weeks ago. The air was saturated with stardust, he could taste it on his tongue whenever he rode in procession. Little bursts of energy peaked throughout the day. Hundreds of little wishes granted, none of them by him. He ground his teeth.

"You're right, I have been too generous."

"I'm glad we agree," she smoothed her skirt where it lay across her lap, "Though I'd like to hear what you're going to do about that."

The monarch took hold of his wife's hand and brought it to his lips, "Oh, don't worry Cassie, there's already a plan," he grasped her fingers tight, "Trust me."

Amaya soaked in the unwavering determination of his gaze and wished that she could.

Chapter Text

WHERE ARE YOU?

The words shown in tones of silver against the weathered parchment, but Sol could feel every scathing syllable as if his brother was standing before him. The empty bottle lay on the floor, distorting the image of his foot where it was slung over the mattress. The star glanced over and gave it a kick, it rolled to the side then circled back, hitting his ankle. His lips trilled; Polaris must be getting worried. You didn't send a message in a bottle to say hello. But what could he say? "Hey there Polaris, it's me Sol! Just hanging out on this invisible island and making sure I don't mess things up again. By the way, did you know that Cassiopeia is here? I don't know how we're going to recapture her or how you would even find this place, but she's here..."

"Thought you should know" he sighed. Then his throat seized. He lurched forward, dropping the message. His hand flew over his mouth. Leaning over the end of the bed, dry heaves shook him. A cacophony of coughing, hacking, and spitting ensued. But nothing came up. His breaths raspy and ragged, his shivering body fell back to the mattress. He stared at the underside of the trunk lid. Vision flickering, his eyes slitted. His hands were pale and taunt against the bedding, knotting themselves in the quilt. With a shuddering breath, the fit leveled out. He pressed his palms against his eyes and sat up slow. He had been away for too long. His insides felt like they were made of worms. He rested twitching fingers against his side, pain was not something he had the luxury of feeling, but this had to be close enough. Another wave of nausea rolled through him. He stifled a moan and folded over, burying his face in the mattress. It'll pass. It'll pass. It'll pass.

The waves subsided and he could breathe again. Righting himself, he glanced toward the discarded note. If his brother saw him like this, he wouldn't let him stay. It wouldn't matter all the work he'd put in, or still needed to put in, he would be whisked away without a second thought. Then something will happen, "and then I'll get in trouble," the sour thought wrapped around his mind in a vise. Banishing all residual queasiness, Sol took up the letter again. Bracing it against his knee, he quick scrawled a response before he could overthink it.

DISCOVERED A LEAD ON CASSIOPEIA. WILL FOLLOW UP WITH FURTHER DETAILS WHEN I CAN.

He shoved the parchment through the neck of the bottle when the trunk above him opened. He kicked it underneath his bed before Asha's head peered over the edge. Her hair hung over her shoulder, a waterfall of glistening beads oscillating in their prismatic light. They looked so much like the glimmering constellations of water droplets that decorated the inside of that sea cave. That ethereal gateway into the world of the eternal sun.

It took him a few seconds to realize that he had stopped breathing.

"Hey-"

"You need to help me!"

"I'm doing fine, how about you?" he muttered.

"What was that?"

The star smirked to himself and climbed the first three stairs, his head poking over the top, "I said what can I help you with?"

She looked at him for a second before retrieving an item from her pocket. She displayed it, flattening her palm. It was a small figure of a knight astride a rearing horse, the bottom half was more pedestal than figurine. His eyes flicked back up to her, "A paperweight."

"It's lead," she pushed the item toward him. He accepted it, turning it in his luminescent fingers.

"And...?"

"And it needs to be gold. I mean, I need to turn it to gold.... before tomorrow."

Sol shook his head, "I can't keep doing your homework for you, Asha."

"I wouldn't be asking if you had actually granted my wish!"

"Of course I did," he scoffed, climbing the rest of the way out of the trunk, "Just because you have near unlimited power," he closed the top with a snap, the girl had to quick pull her fingers away from the opening, "doesn't mean that you know how to use it."

"Well," she crossed her arms, her expression daring, "show me how."

"You know it's not as easy as tha-"

Asha raised an eyebrow.

Sol sighed, his arms dropping loose to his side. His vision still wavered. Blinking away the blur, he looked down at the small trinket. Gripping it tight, his mouth tensed before he thrust it back toward her, "Fine," he declared over the small knight's head, "I'll show you."

"Ok," her reply cautious as she took the paperweight back. His eyes were intense, more than she'd ever seen. It was a bit off-putting in her opinion. Maybe he was getting annoyed with her unending pleas for help. She understood, even she was frustrated with herself. She worried the corner of the figurine with her thumb. It's not like she could help it! Sure, he had granted her wish, but it would have been nice to know the caveats that it came with. If she had known that the answer would still be to practice endlessly then she never would have-

Asha banished the thought, "Thank you."

The star gave her a nod before crossing to her desk and grabbing the stool. He dragged it over to the center of the room, then stood aside.

The young magician followed his lead and sat upon it, the paperweight feeling heavy in her grasp. She set it between her knees and clenched either side of the seat beneath her. Looking back, she shot the boy a smile, "So, how are we going to do this?"

He exhaled and gently held her wrists. Detaching her grip from the stool, he brought her hands around to cup the figurine. Weaving his fingers through hers so that they both had a decent hold. She could feel the air thicken and spark around her. His chin rested against the top of her head, her hair frizzing in reaction.

"It's a current," his voice rumbled through her, "It's always there, running through you. Think of it like a spring of energy waiting to be called upon," his grip tightened and so did hers, "Close your eyes."

She did.

"Now, you know this trinket is made of lead, but the trick is that you have to convince yourself it's not."

"Trick myself into thinking it's gold...right."

"Precisely, start by changing one thing. Maybe the shape, maybe the color, maybe the size...whatever it is envision it. Make yourself believe that that one aspect is undeniably true, then the rest will follow."

Her finger pressed down on the sharp corner; her lips pursed. It wasn't pointed, it was round. The edges were beveled to the touch. No matter how deep the figurine dug into her palm, it was nothing but an undefined shape. Formless, smooth, and malleable. Her grip tightened, the item giving to the pressure of her touch. She gasped and the spell broke. The paperweight was rigid once again.

"Don't lose focus. Keep the illusion in your mind. Let's try again."

Sol's voice was tender, his hands warm over hers. She smiled; his voice was so much kinder than the king's. If he had been her teacher, she was sure she would be controlling whole armies of empty armor by now. She rolled her shoulders and settled in once again, her eyes closed. The star leaned against her, his torso pressing against her bowed back. The stardust sparked up her spine, skipping along the bones like a pebble upon the water. She swallowed. The paperweight was denser, smaller, and cool to the touch growing warmer. Her eyebrows pinched together; gold, she was holding gold. There had never been a lead paperweight and there would never be one. It had always been gold...priceless...valuable.... "Gold."

"You got it?"

She nodded.

"Alright, repeat with me-"

"Tud," their voices mingled. Their entangled hands grew bright and hot, then in a breath it was done. The girl peeped through anxious slits. The star's hold fell away, and her hands opened to reveal the glimmering gold within. Her heart fluttered, giggling as she looked over at the boy who'd now knelt down next to her, "I did it!"

"To be specific, I did it. But I'll let you say that you helped," he studied the nugget that nestled in her soft palms. He braced the back of his hand against his mouth for a second before it dropped to his side. The young magician didn't notice, her eyes alight with the wonder of the treasure that sat between her fingers.

"How wonderful, it's not very hard at all, is it?"

"Relatively speaking," the boy groaned, easing himself back to sit on the wood floor. He braced his hands behind him and let both his legs stretch out.

Grumbling could be heard from the depths beneath Asha's bed. The star squinted, peering into the thick shadows, the vague silhouette of a goat could be seen rooting around, "Hey there fella."

The shape turned then went back to his work, unimpressed with the person speaking. Sol smirked, watching the creature make his way around the little cavern between the frame and the overhanging quilt until-

"Umm...isn't the straw supposed to stay inside the bedding?"

Asha took her eyes off the small treasure in her hands and gasped, "Valentino! You naughty little thing!" She flew from the stool to dive underneath the bed. Her hands reached out for the goat, but he kept himself beyond her grasp. A beleaguered groan emitted as she felt behind her. Blind, her fingers searched until they touched the drawstring of her purse.

"Nim!"

A sheet of stardust skated across the bottom of the bed. With a mighty creak, it flew to the ceiling. But a problem soon arose. Stubborn, and voracious, the goat refused to surrender his hard-won meal. So the bed soared, and Valentino along with it. Defying gravity by the grace of one generous tear. A tear that was only getting larger.

"Oh no!" Asha rushed around beneath the hovering goat, arms outstretched, "Hold on Valentino! I got you...I think!"

"See now you're getting the hang of it!" Sol cheered from the floor.

But the girl was deaf to his encouragement, too focused on the impending disaster.

"I got you!"

With a panicked bleat, the fabric gave way and Valentino hurtled earthward. The girl dove, ready.

Ready.

Ready?

But her arms remained empty. She looked up, confused. Surely it didn't take that long to....

Feet from the floor the goat was suspended. Golden, sparkling, and very perturbed.

Shocked, her eyes met the star's.

He winked.

Letting out a breathy laugh, she wrapped her arms around her pet and dragged him down with her. She hugged the grumbling animal close as her bed settled upon the floor with a light tap, "Thank you."

The boy rubbed the back of his neck, "What'd you say about 'not very hard?'"

Asha scratched between Valentino's horns, "Alright, you win that round."

He continued to stare at her. Frowning, he tapped his throat, "Bad day?"

"Oh," the magician reached up to touch where the small cut had scabbed over, "Yeah...not one of the best."

"It's difficult, isn't it?"

"Yes, but I'm learning a lot...so."

"Is it still worth it?"

She started, meeting his stare, "Sure it is."

The star laughed to himself, "Sorry to be frank, but you look like you've been through it," his head tilted to the side, "And you're not telling me the whole truth either. Sure, you're learning a lot but not retaining much. Am I right?"

Gathering her legs beneath her, she jumped up, "Stop doing that, it's creepy!"

"But am I right?"

She glared at him, and he answered with a toothy smile. She hemmed and hawed for a minute before dropping Valentino on the bed. Her finger pinched the bridge of her nose, "I suppose you're in the realm."

"Knew it."

"What?!"

He challenged her murderous gaze, "I knew it," he proclaimed.

"Well, you're certainly a know-it-all, aren't you? All I hear from you is 'I knew it, or 'oh no, don't do that', or the ever famous, 'you'll blow yourself up.'"

"To be fair you've almost done that quite a few times."

"I corked the bottle, alright!" her hand jutted to the side, pointing out the new home of her stardust supply. Safely corked and placed underneath the desk to Sol's specifications after endless urging. Or at least the closest she could get. If she had followed his instructions to a T, she'd have to exhume the bottle from an eight-foot-deep hole on the daily.

"And I'm very happy you did that-"

She held up her hand to stop him, "If we're going to continue to exist under the same roof, you're going to have to start acting.... like...like, I dunno a real person?"

He leaned forward, balancing his chin against his fist, "A real person?"

"Something other than an immortal windbag who always acts like calamity is right around the corner!"

"Ok...fair," his tone was measured, "What would make me more 'real?'"

"Well-" she flipped through several different options and came up empty handed. She sat down heavy on the corner of her bed, "What's something you wish you could change about yourself? A weakness...normal people have those."

"You want me to open up? That's what you're asking?"

"Yeah."

The boy snickered, "I was expecting something more challenging."

"Just answer the question!"

He breathed in deep and rose from the floor. He sat atop the trunk, his back to Asha. Drumming his fingers against the leather top, he decided to be honest, "Remember when you asked me if there was anything I'd ever desired?"

"Sure."

"I want to know what... life feels like."

"What?"

"You know..." he didn't dare look back at her, he could tell from her voice that she was befuddled on the border of judgmental. He paused and reoriented his statement, "Ok, I've come down from the sky countless times to grant wishes. Albeit there was a teeny hiatus...but every time I visit, I see people...being. Eating food, getting hurt, struggling to carry massive burdens or simply finding comfort in an embrace. It's all so...vibrant and real and..." he looked down at his own golden hands, "And I can't experience any of it if I tried."

Asha was taken aback, "You mean...you can't feel anything?"

"Only see and hear," he smirked, "Everything else..." he shrugged.

The girl leaned toward him, her fingers grabbed the loose skin at the back of his neck and pinched. He didn't react. She dug her nails in. He didn't react, "Wow," she stopped her assault, "You're not lying."

"Huh?" his head turned to look back at the magician.

"Eh...ah...nothing."

The star didn't question further, he looked down to where his fingers tapped against each other, "So there you have it."

"Excuse me for asking, but can't you help yourself with that? I mean, you are a wishing star, aren't you? Just wish for it."

Sol's head dropped to his hand and his back shook. His normal guffaws muted to muffled chuckles in an attempt to keep noise down, "Look," he eventually recovered, but the laughter was still in his eyes, "I can't wish for anything."

"Really?"

"Of course not, that wouldn't make me a very good star now, would it?! What good would I be if I was trying to make my wish come true over everyone else's?"

"I suppose that makes sense."

"Yep," he hummed, "No wishes or desires, that's all a part of it. If we can't physically experience anything, we're less likely to want."

"It's difficult, isn't it?"

The star startled in the wake of his own words. Asha met the bewildered look with a grin, "Is it worth it, then? For you?"

"It's not a question of if it is or isn't. It's just the way things are," his answer was slow and pointed, "But to answer the first part of your question, no normally not. Most stars are perfectly fine with how they are...and they'll tell you as much, trust me."

"Oh," her confidence wilted. Picking at her skirt, embarrassment flooded in. How did she always manage to say the wrong thing?

"Nah, it's not like you could've known."

Her head jerked to stare at the boy's golden profile. Shaking her head, she gave her shock up to the explanation that he was an inexplicable celestial fiend.

"And the funny thing is," the star braved forward, "For a little while I was like that too. Not worrying about those kinds of things...unless they were other people's. And it was nothing to me, really. Just a job. I'd come down, grant a wish, then leave, simple as that. But one day," he breathed, his own voice sounding distant in his ears, "One day I didn't leave...not right away. I didn't want to because there was something there I'd never seen before. Something I couldn't explain....and I had to get a better look," his smile was wistful, "I didn't have a word for it then, but you would know it as a wedding. And there was so much music and laughter, I....I couldn't stop watching. Oh Asha, it was brilliant! And then..."

"What?"

"Dancing. People dancing. I'd never seen it before. It was fascinating because there was no particular purpose for it. No ulterior motive or ritual. Just fun. All for fun! And it was beautiful. I watched as long as I could," his face was painted with the colors of that far off memory, "then dawn came, and I had to go."

"Why? You walk around in the sunlight just fine here," to my detriment, her eyes rolled with the thought.

"Oh...well...I had stuff to do," he covered up the lie with a cough. It was partially nervous, but for a tense few seconds it almost became a full-on attack. He swallowed furiously while Asha regarded him with suspicion, "Anyway," he eventually triumphed, "I guess ever since then I've been chasing after that feeling...the sensation of being alive. I know I'm not supposed to, but the mind wanders, you know?"

"I know," she smiled.

"I...I sometimes wonder...like, how the wind would feel against my face, how sweet sugar actually is, how bad it would hurt to stub my toe, and..." his mind tripped over a new subject. So strange, so strong, so...wrong. He shook his head, leaning back on his palms.

"And?" the girl's head hovered over his shoulder.

He met her eyes then looked away, "And..." maybe he should start taking it easy. The lack of stardust was surely making him daft in the...

His gaze fell upon where his fingers splayed. His little finger grazed the side of Asha's hand.

...head.

He launched himself up and away from the trunk. The magician looked back wide eyed.

"Are you ok?" she ventured. Never having felt the whisper of a touch.

"Sure...fine, I'm fine. Saw a shadow and thought it was a bat...heh," he looked down at his shoes.

"Bat?" Asha cast a nervous eye around the room.

"Yeah bat! Wait...I-I mean no! No bat! I was mistaken...eh," his hands shoved deep in his pockets, "You know what!" his head popped up, "I have work to do. Plotting, planning, the whole thing with the...queen...so..." he trudged toward the chest, opened the top and jumped in.

It closed with a thud and Asha was left trying to piece together what had happened.

Chapter Text

To great relief, Sol found out that he was running a fever. Of course! That explained everything! His discordant thoughts, the frequent bouts of agitation, and that odd breathless feeling that came around with it. Never-mind that it hadn't affected him when he was sneaking around the city, nor when he was alone in the trunk...it was only ever when-

Ah nonsense! It was most certainly the fever and a healthy dose of mild hallucination, "Yesiree," he proclaimed as the bottle dropped into the harbor. He watched it for a couple minutes, making sure the current had taken hold of his message. Standing up from his crouch, he gave the bottle a salute as it drifted away from the empty dock and off to someplace where his brother would find it.

It was then when the clap of hooves shattered the quiet. Alarmed, he drew up the hood of his cloak and dropped into the shadows that clung to the underside of the elevated walk. The street ran above him, only two feet higher than he stood. He swallowed and shimmied further down, attempting to fold himself into that dark corner between the stone steps and the wall. He could hear the horses whinnying now, then light conversation as the royal party came closer. He held his breath, not daring to even entertain the idea of using stardust to extricate himself. A disguise or a small wish was one thing; granted further away would be hard to pinpoint. But a few meters? The star looked up, seeing the flawless white mounts emerge from around the storehouse. He shrank again.

Sol knew the king was looking for him. All the processions that were slowly becoming a daily occurrence, had no other purpose than to root him out. Even from their inception, he'd taken care to avoid the roving caravan when he could. This was the closest he had been to the vision of opulence that paraded above him. And it made him sicker than he already was. It was as if the ground gasped at every stamping hoof, every metallic footfall. The very air froze in their presence, like they were the four horseman unleashed. His gut keeled and rolled, but he fought off the nausea. Hand pressed against his mouth, he peered up again. Ah ha, there was the king! Sitting proud and tall, decked out in the finest garb and talking with...talking with...

"Asha," he rasped around the stifling hand.

The girl blinked, stopping mid-sentence to look around. A curious expression on her face. Oh no, had she heard him?! If she had heard him, then surely...

Magnifico said something to her, bringing her wandering eyes back to the previous topic they had been chattering on about. Once again engrossed, the pair disappeared further up the road, followed after by yet another set of guards.

Sol continued to observe his silence until the party had passed. Once the clattering steps dissipated, he slid boneless to the ground. Asha didn't tell him that she was riding with the king! Did she forget to mention it? Did she not want him to know?! Why didn't she -

Then again, he had made himself...unavailable after last night's incident. His gut rolled again at the memory, but this time it wasn't all that unpleasant. He chastised himself before creeping up the stairs. His feet touched cobblestone, and he looked down the spindly way to catch the last flash of silver. He stood in the middle of the near empty road, his mind bombarded with a slew of thoughts, most not his own. From the houses to the failing farms, all the way to the stranded ships circling miles from port; he heard every desperate plea. His head started to pound. There were so many...too many...

He looked behind him, to where the houses and desolate shops stretched. Breathing in his regret, his attention swung back to the empty passage that the cavalcade had taken.

****

Asha was exuberant. Beaming, she delighted in every detail as they passed. Oh, how the people looked upon her as they went along! Some with shock others with jealousy. Her chest swelled at the attention. She had been exchanging her excited jabberings with the king, who took her ecstatic - and often spastic - observations in stride. Truth be told, it had been a while since she'd ridden on horseback, and never as the lone rider. She could feel her thighs cramping with every jolt and sway of the stead. She rode with a slight bend, ready to drop the reins and cling to the beast's neck for dear life if he decided to bolt. Though even with these awkward arrangements, she still managed a triumphant expression when she passed by the butcher's.

She had wrapped the reins around her hand so she could scratch an itch on her nose when she saw him. Nondescript and a carbon copy of the other knights that both rode with and marched alongside them, this one in particular seemed familiar. His movements less confident, his attention wandering, his posture too pronounced...

The helmet swung around and Asha nearly fell from her horse. Under that visor, golden eyes glowed. Her mouth started to form the words before her brain could catch up, "What-"

An iron finger tapped against the bottom half of the helmet. She wanted to scream. What was he doing here? They'd agreed, hadn't they? They'd agreed that he would stay away from her while she was under her apprenticeship. She didn't care what he did during the day as long as he kept to himself. But he knew better than to bother her! She sent him a glare hot enough to smelt his suit into steel. Besides, wasn't he spooked about the queen, and by association the king? It was him who was afraid that she would recognize him, wasn't it?

She ran her still-freed hand down her face.

"Are you alright Señorita?"

Her fingers paused over her lips as she turned back to Magnifico. With a forced smile, she took up the reins in both hands, "Yes, I am! Nothing but a passing headache," the last word was aimed down to the rogue star who marched below her. If he felt the exaggerated consonants, he didn't let on. Sol's attention was restored to the front of the procession, much like the ilk he was attempting to blend with. She had to fight the urge to give his helmet a good kick.

"Glad to hear it," the king's hand raised, open above his head. Closing it into a fist he shouted, "HALT!"

"Oh!" Asha's back straightened as she wrenched back on the reins. The stallion whinnied at the sudden jerk, stumbling to a stop. Sheepish, the girl reached forward and gave his neck a pat. After assuaging the beast, her head rose to take in the scene before them. They were close to the northern port; one of the lowest points of the city. The air was thick with the briny scent of the ocean not a mile beyond. The homes here more resembled shacks, built all jumbled together, each wall leaned on the other. She could see a few curtains flicking aside to watch the splendid troupe that lined up along the ramshackle path. Even the fishmongers stopped their keeling calls to spy as the king dismounted and walked, with a portion of his detail, to the worm-eaten door.

Sol gave Asha a small nudge. She startled out of her stupor to find his hand raised to assist her. She ignored it and struggled off the animal herself. Clumsy, she flung one leg over the head of the steed, surely blinding it as her skirt got tangled over its face. Of course she had rejected the sidesaddle, she chided herself. Her inexperience had prompted her to ride astride. Which...on second thought...could have explained some of the looks she had been getting. Now she was in the process of falling off a horse. A very big, very tall, horse. She gulped and tried to work her skirts free. Tilting further to the right, she was en route to hang upside down when sturdy hands gripped her waist. With a firm tug, she was lifted free from her self-induced trap and deposited on the ground. She turned to see Sol's eyes twinkling with suppressed laughter.

Easy for you to make fun. Ever tried going around in a skirt? I think not!

She brushed out her dress with a fair amount of aggression. Leaning close to the fake knight she muttered, "We'll talk later," before scurrying after Magnifico who was already having a conversation through a crack in the door.

".... not well today," the wispy voice of a woman could be heard as Asha sidled next to the monarch. The pale blue eyes that peered out flicked over to the girl before continuing, "I'm certain he can't provide you any further-"

"Ah, but Señora, I come with a gift. And I am certain it is one your husband will be eager to accept."

The door opened a bit wider. A pale, narrow, face could be seen, "A gift?"

His smile was conspiratorial as his tone dropped to a whisper, "A wish."

The door was thrown open. The woman was clad in an ill-fitting dress, pockmarked with frays. A dirty apron cinched in her waist while a little girl clung to her leg, "Truly?"

"On my honor."

"Oh, your majesty!" the woman dropped before him, her curtsy was so pronounced she was practically kneeling, "A thousand thank you's! It's been so hard since Hugo was injured. Even before the closure-"

"Yes, yes," the king's reply was abrupt. Pausing for a second, he took time to steady his voice before continuing, "I am aware of all that, Señora. I have many errands today and I don't desire to hold up yourself or your husband any longer."

The woman's head bobbed like a chicken. Backing away from the open doorway, she rushed further into the small house. The child who'd been hiding in her skirts now stood in the entry way without cover. Her eyes wide, they swept over the many men with trepidation. Asha could see the little throat bulge as she swallowed. The child's head turned and saw the magician. Meeting her gaze, a smile full of missing teeth answered. The magician waved, but with a brisk cough from Magnifico, her hand clenched and fell to the side.

The mother bustled back, her hair falling out of its messy bun, "H-he will see you, your majesty," breathless as she genuflected. She straightened her knees and waved the group toward the open door at the end of the hallway. Magnifico moved at her urging. The magician could feel the star behind her, his armor moving with a bit more unease in comparison to the practiced rhythm of the other knights. She looked over at the king, fearful that he too might be hearing it, but his attention was toward the room that was now only three steps away.

They filed into a claustrophobic space. It would have been big enough for its original purpose of a bedroom, but with the excess of fifteen people clustered together, it was tight. Asha's breath was shallow, afraid to expand even her lungs in the crush. Sol shifted to the side, granting her a modicum of room at the cost of clashing against the soldier next to him. A rough clang resounded with a fair amount of bark and bluster. The star deepened his voice and responded in apology, but the other was not having it. It took a sharp comment from Magnifico to halt both their tongues. Once the party was assembled, the king bent over the bedridden figure.

By the light of a single candle Asha could see the man was no older than thirty. His face was roughened by many years at sea, but his eyes still shone bright with the vigor of life. Thin as many others were these days, he lifted himself to sit upright with strong arms. He didn't mind the company behind the ruler, his gaze nonchalant as he spoke, "To what do I owe this return visit, your majesty? I'm afraid I have no further information to provide-"

"No, no Señor, I come to give you my thanks. I desire to grant your wish, if you'll allow me."

"My wi-" the man finally blinked. His unyielding stare now falling to his leg which lay bandaged under layers of cloth, "Ah," he swallowed.

"I know it will do both you and your family good to have you walking again...would it not?"

"Yes...yes I suppose it would," he met the king's gaze again, steel crashing against glass. Magnifico was the first to blink, "But I have nothing to exchange for it."

The monarch snapped his fingers and one of the knights detached from the troupe, carrying a small chest, "Never mind that," his tongue clicked in unison with the popping latch. Reaching in with both hands he removed the thick book from within. It was a simple leather-bound volume. No extra embellishments marred the cover nor were the pages painted with gold or illustrations carved along the spine. Not even a title graced the front, it was a common tome, akin to something that Asha might find on her own shelf. But upon its removal from the satin folds within, Sol hissed. The girl turned in surprise, only to find the boy stone-stiff.

"Now," Magnifico hummed, slender fingers flipping deftly through the brittle pages, "I'm sure this-" he turned the book around to display the selected page, "-would be more than enough."

The man squinted, the flickering candle not giving enough light to illuminate the writing. His brow hung heavy over his eyes, doubt dragging down the corners of his mouth.

"I'm certain your wife will be overjoyed at your recovery. Your child will be able to eat well again. That would be a blessing," the king pushed the volume closer to his face, "wouldn't it?"

There was a light sound of ruffling metal, Asha looked again to the star. His hands were shaking.

"Alright!" the man announced, "I accept."

With a nod, Magnifico took the book back. He placed a stardust-coated hand over the open page and rasped a spell that was alien to Asha's ears. The quaking next to her intensified. Through clenched teeth she mumbled, "Are you ok?"

She didn't get an answer.

The candle's flame leapt high on its wick. The injured leg glowed in the shower of stardust that flood down from the tome. Tongues of gold wrapped around the limb, snaking underneath the dressing to get to the wound beneath. The man's breath boiled on his lips, his eyes turning gold in the dancing light. Then, the candle blew out and all was dark.

A call for illumination went out. Finding no window in the room, a lantern was lit instead. In the thick darkness, the man had stood up. Now with the new light licking at his feet, he took his first step. His face a vision of joy. He called out to his wife who had waited outside the room during the ceremony. She squeezed her way in, running to embrace him.

Asha smiled at the scene. How miraculous a gift it was to grant wishes. It was almost tragic how something so beautiful was regulated to so few. But she understood the logic of it all. It was best, safe, practical, that the king was the only one who possessed such power. Him and the stars of cour-

"Thief."

The voice was stark and cold. But when the girl glanced over, there was nothing but empty space.

****

The rest of the day went the same way. Visiting different households in all sorts of disarray and fulfilling miracles with the flip of a page. Sol had made himself scarce after that first stop. A brief moment of concern plagued her mind, but in the midst of the wonders passing before her, it was quickly put away. Maybe he had something better to do? Or he had gotten the message and cleared out before she had a chance to reprimand him. Whatever it was, it didn't haunt her again until she was walking up the packed earth road to her home.

Thief...what had he meant by that? The trees overhead rustled in the light breeze. Ah, but that boy was always spouting off crazy theories. What did he know? Sure, he'd stuck around for three weeks now...but he'd never known the island, or the king, before then. And it was a rotten time to get to know both. If he had known the kingdom during the good times, he would understand.

"And here she finally arrives."

The voice stopped her in her tracks, she glanced above her, "Sol?"

The star was sitting on the bough of the tree above. His eyes focused on a leaf that spun between his fingers.

"Sol...there you are. I was wondering where-"

"Where I was?" he answered back with a rasp in his voice, "I was trying to help! No wonder there's still so many wishes here. With a peacock like that in charge there'll be a million more!"

Asha sized up the trunk. Hiking up her skirts, she started climbing. She only dared to go to where the branches spread. The star was still six feet above her. She stood slowly and eased her weight onto the nearest bough, looking up at the livid boy, "I'm sorry...have I missed something?"

"Oh, nothing at all! Just that everything I do is quickly undone by your puppet king. That thief! Disgusting, wretched, weak thing he is. Only a coward lies as he does."

"Coward?" Asha guffawed, "Sol, I surely don't understand how granting wishes makes you so angry. Don't you do the same thing?"

"I resent that comparison!"

"Oookkkkaaayyy...what, do you have a special embargo on wishes?"

"Of course I do, only stars can do it! And not many of them can!"

"Well, it's just as unique for us. I'm certain that no one other than the king can do it," she tried to shimmy herself further up but then thought better of it, "I'm going to learn how to one day."

The star dropped the leaf, he looked her dead in the eyes, "Don't! Asha, trust me. You don't want to learn how to do that!"

"In what galaxy are you living in? Of course I do!" the fallen leaf landed on her head and she brushed it away, "I'm going to rule this island one day and I-"

"You don't want to rule like that!"

The girl scoffed, "Now you're telling me what I should and shouldn't want. Thanks, but I can decide that for myself!"

"ASHA!" Sol yelled. The girl was startled, she'd never heard him raise his voice before. The boy rolled off his high branch and hovered in front of her. His face a knotted struggle of anger and anxiety, "Can't you see? He's a pathetic creature who preys on those who challenge him."

"You're sounding like my Baba," her voice was laced with ice.

"Then I'm glad he has sense! Didn't you see that book of his? That cursed thing is stolen Asha. STOLEN! It's something that even I wasn't allowed to read while it was in the celestial library. I don't know how he got his hands on it. Probably something to do with that witch of a wife he has," he braced his hands on the bough that hung over her, "It's evil Asha."

The magician drew back, her feet feeling their way back down the tree, "I've heard enough of your crazy conspiracies!"

The star followed the girl down, "But Asha, they know I'm here! That's why things are this way, they're looking for me!"

"I doubt that," her feet hit dirt.

"Why do you think the ports are closed, then? Why would a monarch torch his entire kingdom in a matter of weeks?"

The answer came smooth, "Because of plague."

His face paled, "Do you really believe everything that man says?"

"Why wouldn't I? He's the king. It's by his grace that we are fed and clothed. Without him, we'd be struggling like everyone else."

"And if you fall out of favor or become useless, then his grace ends," Sol shook his head, "Asha, that's not kindness, that's servitude."

Her tongue stuck in her cheek, "With all due respect, why would I put my faith in someone I practically just met?"

"Because..." he started, but with a pained expression he turned away. She saw his hands shake like they did in the injured man's house, "Fine," the answer dribbled from his lips like poison. In a shaking of leaves he left.

Asha didn't feel victorious after the fight. She made her way home and slunk up the steps. Her grandfather's curtain pinched aside. The old man watched after his granddaughter as she climbed up and away from him. Her name was on his tongue but he swallowed it back. The curtain fell into place once again.

There would be better times to talk.

Chapter Text

"Sol, come on now. I'm sorry."

The lid didn't open.

"Sol..?"

Not even a shuffle.

"You're being childish about all this!"

Nothing.

"I just don't understand how you granted my wish and didn't expect me to take advantage of it?"

Muffled objections emerged from the depths of the chest. It was in a language she couldn't understand, and its tone was less than honorable. She jumped up, her foot swung back and connected with the wooden side. In an instant she regretted it. Holding her slippered foot she hopped with the rhythm of her throbbing pain. She had to bite down on her knuckle to keep from screaming.

"Fine...fine," she croaked. Falling to her hands and knees she dragged out the assortment of bric-a-brac she'd cleared from the chest weeks before. Hoisting each heavy book with malice, she made sure their impact was thunderous. Finished with her fortifications she brushed her hands free of dust, "Stay in there then!"

He didn't give her the satisfaction of a response. Sticking her tongue out at the empty air, she went to bed angry.

****

Asha stared down the trader while Valentino tried to eat the hem of her skirt.

"That's my price," he spat around an empty pipe.

"Two gold pieces? Are you out of your mind?"

"No, just out of money."

The girl thumped the bolt of fabric laid out on the counter. Dust exploded at her touch, "This is no better than parchment! How am I supposed to believe this is linen!"

"To be specific my lady, it was once silk. That is...until the rats got to it," spittle bubbled at the corners of his mouth.

Asha shuddered and whipped her hand on her skirt, "I can't afford that," her lips curled in disgust, "And neither would I want to."

The trader shrugged and removed the bolt from the table, placing it on the length of shelves behind him. It was the only occupant, "Quite an odd time to be developing taste."

"My mother deserves better material than rat droppings."

"Well talk to the king then," the man braced each hand on the counter, his pipe waggling between his teeth, "I hear his favor extends far."

The girl gripped her coin purse tight, "Not that far."

She exited back into the light, the goat scurrying after. She paused there, closing her eyes and breathing in the salty air, "I'm sorry, Yemma," she sighed.

Valentino, her only audience, grumbled in support. Well, she hoped it was support. It made her feel better to think about it that way. But she supposed he was hungry like everyone else. She blinked and her attention fell on a few of the many scrawls that had started to decorate the walls along the hidden alleyways and tight corners.

King of bones

Empty bellies, full pockets

The queen spreads h-

Asha preferred to stop reading the last one.

Rubbing her temples, she bolstered herself enough to march over to the butchers. At the very least she could secure a bone for broth. She approached the long window and knocked her knuckles against the blood-stained counter. Every time she had to run errands, she hoped that she wouldn't encounter Luisa. She had often been lucky, usually the woman was off chattering with her friends or doing some menial parlor tricks for this-or-that lord's family. The usual supplementary jobs that those who were not royal magicians, did. Besides, she liked dealing with her husband far better. He was a kind man, generous to a fault, but not a fool. There had been many times when the girl had been able to profit from his charity. Her mouth watered as she recalled the venison she'd secured for only two coppers six months before. But that had been when times were good. Now, her stomach dropped as Luisa rounded the corner, wiping her hands on a dirty cloth.

Her eyes cloudy, she took a second to recognize the girl standing before her, "Oh," her tone lilting, "Hello Asha."

"H-Hello."

"Beautiful day isn't it?" the woman's face had a dreamy quality about it. Her eyes looking, but then not quite looking. The girl wanted to waive her hand in front of her face but restrained herself.

"Are you feeling alright, Luisa?"

"Ah perfect, just perfect. I have a very busy schedule now. Many clients...many."

"I see..." she must have been sneaking droughts of her husband's wine again. Oh well, Asha was only here for one thing, and she would make it quick, "I...ehm, ahem," she anxiously cleared her throat, "I'm in need of two of your bones....errrr, beef!" She was quick to specify as she watched the woman move about in her fugue.

"A copper," Luisa sang as she pulled out a femur and a rib, "No meat, no meat, just bones."

Agh, she was positively pickled! The girl gave her a wary smile as she slid the coin over the counter. The woman hummed and wrapped the bones with twine before handing them over. Asha jabbered her thanks and got out of there as quickly as she could. The hair on the back of her neck was rigid, she ran her palm over it to assuage her unease. Luisa was drunk, that was all. But then why was her gut spinning like a top?

"Ok...fine. Maybe I came on too strong."

Oh, that's why.

"I really need to attach a bell to you," she talked to the brown-haired boy at her back.

"I understand your situation, there's just better ways to go about it."

"Unless you're going to offer actual solutions, I suggest you find someplace else to spend your time."

"Ah, no, no, no," he swung her around to face him. Barely three inches apart, the air was cloying, "Do you know how long it took me to get out of that trunk?" he chuckled, "Boy, when you're angry...you're angry."

"And I still am."

"Alright," his teeth ground together, "I suppose there are some things that can only be seen to be believed."

His hold was hot against the skin of her forearm. Her throat felt thick for some reason...how odd. She decided she didn't like it. Pulling her arm away, the star let go with no resistance, "I'm taking care of my family, Sol."

"Ok," he surrendered, though his acerbic tone suggested otherwise, "But you're not getting rid of me anytime soon. I like you too much to see you go to ruin," he offered his hand to the space between them, "Truce?" She could see his cheek twitch at the word.

She studied it for a second before she took his hand in hers and gave it a firm shake, "Truce."

"There...well," he gulped and dropped her hand like it had bitten him. Running his fingers through his hair, he coughed, "Market day, I see."

"Umm..." Asha glanced down at the basket that sat under her arm. The two bones rolled around by themselves, "Sorta..."

Sol's face dropped to see the meager offering. The girl wasn't sure why, he didn't eat anything anyway. Biting her lip, she was just about to say the same thing when the far-off tune of a familiar song blew in with the breeze. The two turned, in unison, to the sound.

"Music..." Sol was the first to speak.

"Yeah, it has been a while, hasn't it?" The island had been eerily quiet as the weeks of starvation had progressed. Smaller and smaller groups dared to venture out, much less assemble to play and possibly...dance.

She looked over at the star, his mouth ajar and eyes searching. Her decision made, she looped her free arm through his and pulled. He looked down, "Wh-what?"

"We're going to find where that music is coming from," she answered as if he had asked her what color the sky was. She turned around, her lips beguiling, "You did say you liked dancing...didn't you?"

They found the origin of the melody in a small inn, tucked under a copse of trees at the edge of town. The doors were flung open and people within were laughing and chattering as if trade had never ended. Flashing skirts and tapping shoes blurred together in the quick tempo. Snapping and clapping kept time while a single guitar guarded the rhythm. The small room seemed three times its size with the sheer amount of people that spun within. The pair paused at the entry, both taken aback by the pure delight that unfolded before them.

"It's so light here," Sol mused. Relishing in the silence that blanketed his mind. Here there were no worries or cares. Sure, trouble existed outside the inn, but not within. Not here, not now. Trouble was for later.

"Come on then," she pulled him toward the door.

"But I don't know this one!"

"Oh, don't worry," the girl stepped behind him and gave him a shove, "Gives me a chance to teach you something, for once."

She left her pitiful shopping basket to be guarded by Valentino before she hurried in after the boy. She met him again in the front corner, looking around with uncertainty at the exuberant crowd before him. She stood on her toes and shouted into his ear, "It's a sevillana!"

"What?" it was so loud even Sol couldn't distinguish between individual voices.

"IT'S-"

The music stopped and the dancers whooped, clapping their approval.

"-a sevillana," her voice dropped in the quiet between songs, "It's not too hard once you get the hang of it. The steps change with every part, but there's a break," she winked, "Don't worry, I won't let you fail."

The star smirked, "Sure you won't."

"I won't!" The guitarist struck up another tune, his fingers leaping over the strings. The room shuffled. The assortment of couples reset themselves to their starting places. Some with arms raised into multitudes of different contortions, others with their hands resting against their hips, and still others with them loosely dangling to the side. Asha opted to start with her skirts lifted over her knees. Watch me, she mouthed.

Sol gagged, not having a chance to tell her to forget about it before she started tapping. He stumbled after, his feet tripping this way and that in their attempt to mimic. Granted, he could see her movements better, but he couldn't stop staring at her legs. Ah, you've hiked your skirt too high!

But true to her word, the steps were easy enough to learn. Though the spinning caught him by surprise a couple of times, by the end of the song he had grown confident enough to beg Asha to drop her skirts. She rolled her eyes and obliged. Sol cast his gaze around the room, but no one seemed to have noticed the strange pair in the corner. Nor the girl's...uh...breech of etiquette.

"Isn't this fun?!"

He turned his attention back to the magician, her face shining under a sheen of perspiration. Oh, how she glowed in the light that filtered through the windows. He fought to cling to the question, "Y-yes," he eventually stuttered, "Very fun."

The music began again. Was it a bit slower this time? The girl clapped her glee, "Oh thank goodness, now we can do this properly!" Her hands flew above her head, she nodded toward Sol and he copied her pose, "You've got the steps, now just watch the hands."

Asha's fingers kept time, snapping as her arms arced and pivoted around her. Sol was sure his mirror was a pale imitation, but after a while he forgot that he was supposed to be copying her. In some distant place he understood that his arms moved and his feet stamped the floor. But that place might as well have been worlds away. Around him was static, a blur of faces and noise. The only sound that filtered in was the rhythmic snaps issuing from her graceful hands. And how she moved, so quick and soft against the blotted background. Her eyes every color and then none at all. They looked at him now, he felt like he was suffocating. They closed; she was feeling the music. Her hair flowed behind her in a curtain. Rising and falling with every step she took. Deep velvet ran through with a million little stars. Her face flushed; her cheeks were pink. Oh goodness, how pink they were! They spun around each other, their bodies moving closer. They were almost touching. Shouldn't there be more space between? No, this felt right...this felt...

The last vibrations died on the guitar strings and Sol looked down at where Asha leaned against his shoulder. Breathless she spun away, her hands moving in slow motion as she applauded the musician. He blinked. Why was everything so far, so foggy? He couldn't stop looking at her, watching her every movement. She was so sharp, so real. He blinked again; his hand pressed against his forehead....a fever...surely...

"You were marvelous!" she giggled through the slowing claps, "You're such a good dancer!"

A...fever...

She grabbed his hand, holding it captive between both of hers, "Let's do it again...come on!"

...fever....

"Sol?"

Something clicked into place as he watched her lips form his name. Something sudden and horrible.

"Oh no..." his voice was horse.

"Wha-"

But by the time she had begun to utter the question, he was gone. And not just gone, vanished. Eyes wide, Asha swung her arm in front of her, "Sol..." but it slid through the air fine. Great...and in front of all these people too! She glanced around at the crowd, hoping nobody had seen the disappearing boy. Sol, why do you keep doing this?!

But amidst her searching, a woman startled near her, "My Lady!"

"Huh?" The girl was frozen in her lunge, her arm sticking out like a sword. The woman rushed toward her, veil fluttering with every step. She clutched Asha's hand tight and dropped to her knees. Panicked whispers filtered through the room now. Almost in unison, the entire room shifted around her. People fell to the floor, their heads bowed toward the young magician. She looked down at the quivering woman who clung to her, "I'm sorry...I don't understand..."

"Please, my lady. We mean no disrespect! We desired so dearly to have some fun. Please allow us this small escape. I swear we will disperse within the hour!"

"I-I suppose that's...fine..." what in the world was going on?!

"Oh, my lady, you are so kind! Many blessings upon you!" she dropped Asha's hand, touching her forehead to the floor, "But I must beg another favor. Please, oh please, don't tell his majesty!"

The magician's blood turned cold, "I... I wasn't planning to."

"Thank you! Thank you!"

"THANK YOU!" the room cheered. They stood up and fanned around Asha, patting her shoulder or gripping her hands. Their faces the vision of relief. They whispered their appreciation and offered to have her stay. Wouldn't she like to dance some more? They knew she would. But all of a sudden it was the last thing she wanted to do.

Chapter Text

Sol watched the seahorse swim past his nose. Curious little thing, it moved so fast for being so awkwardly shaped. They really did look like horses. Little horses galloping on tiny spiraled snake tails. Was it then technically a fish or a mammal? How interesting... His hands came around to capture it, but it slipped through the space between his fingers. Bubbles billowed from his mouth as he watched it fly into the sediment from whence it came.

Alone in the blue expanse, his mind danced with Asha once again. Why did it keep doing that?! He looked toward the surface that glittered above him. With long strokes he broke through into the sunlight. Breathing in deep, he dunked his head. Submerged for a second, he broke free, sucked in air, then once again drove his head underwater. Humans did this to clear their mind, right? He'd seen people do this...well not exactly this. He's seen them splash water over their face, or even dunk their head in a wash basin. This would be considered an attempted drowning. Lucky for him, drowning was not something he could do. But he supposed it would be enough to stop him counting how many freckles Asha had.

72

"ACK!" he dove down again.

This was supposed to work...wasn't it? He resurfaced slow, only emerging up to his nose, his mouth frothed the water. He could hear the steam hissing off of his hair as he drifted there like a buoy.

Great, he couldn't even stay damp!

He rolled over and spread his limbs, looking up at the clear blue sky that hung above. Spinning slowly in the current he mentally pummeled himself.

Splendid, just fantastic! He had to go and get himself involved! To be honest, he guessed he had been somewhat involved, but now he was-

His palm hit the water, a small jet leapt up and blanketed his knees. He was an idiot. That's what he was. He could hear Polaris in his ears already, "Doesn't it always start like this Sol? You get yourself so wrapped up you can't find your way out again?"

"You're right," he murmured to the seagulls flying above, "And now I'm completely lost."

His insides seized, but not from nausea. He really was a fool. No matter the problems he tied up, the professional manner he maintained, the instruction he followed. Among all of his best-laid plans, he'd managed to....

No....no surely not!

He kicked at the water, shifting over to his stomach he swam over to a nearby boulder. Pulling himself up, he perched there, sizzling. Looking toward the island, he was far enough out to see the enchantment waver under the blinding sun. One meter more and I'd lose it. His chin poked his knee, maybe he should leave. Maybe all these wishes he was granting were for naught. Maybe he was just Sisyphus pushing that boulder up the hill, over, and over, and over.

But if I leave, what will happen to everyone? Everything would go back to normal, naturally. What else would happen? They were looking for him and once he left, they would have nothing else to look for...wouldn't they? But you can't be sure, can you? The logical side of his mind stuttered. Images of the injured man, the book, the king.

"No..." he whispered to himself, "...you can't."

Besides, what was he tying himself in knots about anyway? So, he had a passing fancy? It'd happened before. Plenty of times! Take Helen for example, she had the biggest...his hands cupped the air in front of his chest. AHEM...they dropped. Well, they did fight a war over her, didn't they? And then there was Xi Shi, oh how breathtaking she had been. And what about Phryne...well Phryne had been another matter altogether. But Asha was...she was.... what was she? His fingers knotted his hair. Never in his eons of existence had someone plagued him so!

Dancing, she was dancing in front of him.

Asha was...

She was beaming, laughing.

Was....

She called out to him.

The air shifted. Pulling away from his internal battle, he looked back toward that shimmering city.

Asha was in trouble.

****

The cart creaked underneath the two girls as they rode. The old wheels jostling and pitching them this way and that. And the driver wasn't delicate about it either. He held the reins fast, griping at the mule for every pitfall in the road. Asha wrinkled her nose at the latest flurry of curses that flew from his mouth. She didn't like him very much. Only meeting him today she knew two things about him; that he was fluent in the most wretched language, and that his nose never stopped running. Sitting side by side, facing where they'd been, she and Dahlia guarded the small pile of bread that bounced behind them.

She rubbed her eyes and yawned. She'd stayed up all night waiting for Sol to come back. That jerk! He up and vanished on her in a very public place with not even a word of explanation! Leaving her alone in that horrid inn with those pleading faces and worried words. She shuddered thinking about it. And he didn't have the dignity to pop his head in later and let her know that he was okay! Now she could barely keep her eyes open, and she was twice as worried.

Her finger twisted her braid, but why though? He had said that he could take care of himself. And he was an immortal being who'd been around for thousands of years, so who was she to be anxious? Her head nodded, yes why? She flung the loose braid over her shoulder. He could do what he wanted after all. It was none of her business what he got up to. If he wanted to waltz around town, he very well could. He hadn't gotten caught before and he surely wouldn't be caught now.

But she spat, nonetheless.

The cart creaked to a stop.

"Oh, I got this one!" Dahlia piped up, easing herself down on her good leg.

Her friend was relieved because the house they crept up to was Simon's. Dahlia hadn't had much luck reaching out to him either in the passing weeks after Asha's testy encounter. But if the magician knew anything about her friend, she'd most assuredly bribed their driver to come along this way. Grappling with the urge to hide in the cart bed, she watched the baker make her way up to the gate through the gaps in her hair. Dahlia held a loaf under one arm and her crutch under the other. Shifting the bread over, she went to knock on the door, but it flew open before her knuckles could make contact.

Simon looked down at her, his eyes wide. Looking a good twenty pounds lighter, the weight loss had been too rapid, leaving his face gaunt. Shadows stood dark under his eyes as they exchanged words. Asha could see that his toes kept tapping the back of his heel. The magician looked down at where her fingers pinched and pulled at her skirt. It was sometimes infuriating to see her two friends interact. She was certain everybody else knew what was going on, but for some reason those two were impossibly dense.

She stopped worrying the fabric and started to circle the indentation of her knee. Her tongue ran over her teeth, though what was it like to have someone regard you like that? She'd grown up seeing her parents look at each other the same way. When their eyes met, it was like nothing else existed but them. The whole world had gone silent in one glance. How did it happen that you should meet someone and realize that you were their sun and they your moon? She chewed on the thought for only a moment before she heard Dahlia thump back up the path. Looking up as she approached, Asha was flummoxed to see the bread still tucked underneath her arm.

With an agitated grunt, the baker threw the loaf back into the cart and slammed her crutch down in the bed. As she lifted herself back up, Asha whispered, "So..."

"He didn't want it," Dahlia's voice held a slight tremor.

"Didn't want it?" now the magician was more confused, "Did you tell him it was charity from the king?"

"Yeah, he wanted it even less when he heard that," she averted her eyes, looking at the cobblestones below the wheels, "Says that he doesn't need charity."

The driver, seeing that the other girl had returned, cracked his whip against the mule's back and started the creaking and the heaving once again. Heading back down the hill the mule was having an easier time. The crude words were now sparse. A relative silence falling over the two friends. Reaching the bottom of the decline, the little cart started to wind its way through one of the many spindly roads that fell away from the higher points of the city. Entering the eastern port, Asha tensed. This was the oldest part of the island. Once upon a time these were the neighborhoods that had built Rosas. But over the centuries, this area became known for its...unsavory inhabitants. Her hand clung tight to the wooden side closest to her.

"I think he's angry with me," Dahlia's small voice could barely be heard over the whining axles.

"Oh no Dahlia, if anything he's angry at-" embarrassment halted her admission, "...the situation," she recovered, "It's been hard recently. But I don't think he could ever be mad at you."

"Really?"

"Of course not!" they took a tight turn and Asha had to fight to keep from flying off, "If it were me," she breathed as the route straightened, "He would have slammed the door in my face...er...heh...I mean, truely, he probably wouldn't have opened it in the first place..."

The baker chuckled, "You think that, huh? I can't imagine him being that abrupt."

"Well," the magician grimaced, "times like these change people."

"I guess they do." The cart started to slow.

"You know, maybe you should be up front with him. I know you like him, and he probably likes you, so just..." the girl motioned, entangling her fingers, "...tell him."

Dahlia stared at her friend before laughing, "Oh, easy for you to say Asha! I'm fairly certain no gentleman would ever rebuke you...but me..." her eyes tightened as she looked down at her twisted leg, "Not many people want to be with someone who's broken."

"Dah-"

But Asha's words were cut off as movement flickered in her periphery. The cart had come to a stop in the midst of their conversation, and now the driver was dismounting. The magician turned, watching the man's feet hit the ground and round the mule. His pace rather brisk, he crossed to another narrow alleyway. Befuddled Asha was only able to croak, "Where are you-" before the man was eaten up by the shadows within. She shuddered, how strange that in a kingdom filled with sunlight, dark corners such as these still existed.

Dahlia was now catching on, her self-deprecation forgotten as she grabbed her cane and stood among the bread.

"Hey!" the baker called into the dark.

But no answer emerged.

"HEY! I gave you 5 silver pieces, you jerk!"

"I don't think he's coming back..."

But her friend didn't answer her either. Asha looked over at the stout girl, short black hair stirred in the draft. She was rigid, looking down where the driver had disappeared. The magician craned her neck, "Dahlia?"

"Set up-" was all she was able to utter before the pack was upon them. Coming from all sides, rough voices and even rougher faces filtered down through the narrow passage their cart was crammed into. Barely a three-foot clearance on either side, the men filled the gaps quickly. Too many to fit, they were pressed right up against the rig. The stink of ale was thick on the breath of those who were closest. One of the many vices still running rampant on the island and only gaining speed.

Asha's heart pounded.

"Ah lookit, royal wenches," the bald man near Dahlia hiccupped.

"How fun they look!" Asha felt the spittle spray her cheek. She forbid herself from looking.

"Good sir..." Dahlia interceded, "I protest that name, we are ladies."

"Nonsense!" a grimy hand leapt up and grabbed hold of her crutch, a sharp tug caused her to stumble, but she didn't let go, "My bum you're a lady. Nothing but a scullery maid I'll bet!"

"You vile...ulcerous-" Asha started before Dahlia's hand went up to silence her. Staring down at the young man whose hands were still attached to her crutch, she fought to keep herself from shaking.

"Hey, isn't that the king's little pet," the sneer felt like oil against Asha's skin, "Come here little pet!"

"Yes, yes, you do have the king's ear don't you! Why don't you go and tell him-"

"We are here for charity, that's all!" the baker's voice raised.

"Ay, of course. Charity," someone started stroking Asha's shoulder. Ice coated her stomach. Her fingers twitched to her waist, but with a sinking feeling she remembered that she'd neglected to bring her purse with her. After all, why would she need stardust if she was only distributing alms? Her eyes squeezed shut.

"Oh, how kind of the king!" another voice shouted and joined his companion in yanking on the crutch. Dahlia gasped and lost her grip on it. Falling against the side of the cart, she watched the crutch get absorbed into the crowd.

"Finally, he does something for his lowly subjects!" a craggy voice rose.

"Yes, now this is something I can get behind!" another hissed.

"Would have preferred work, but wenches will do," each word fell like a knife.

Clutching the wooden sides tight, the baker wisped, "We are but girls."

"You look old enough to me!" The hand that had been stroking Asha's shoulder now clamped down on her arm and pulled.

"LET GO OF ME!"

Her nails dug deep into his face. The man screamed. She wrenched her arm away; her sleeve tore in the sweaty hold. Breathing hard, she tripped over herself. Her hands floated in the space around her, looking for something to grasp. Some anchor she could cling to. The scene before her rolled while ceaseless screaming sounded in her head. Free for only a few steps, another figure captured her. Her lungs constricted; she couldn't breathe. Her arms were pinned so tight.... agonizing. Twisting in the unwanted embrace, she felt herself tipping backwards before-

"Hands to yourself!"

The magician's back met the lip of the cart. She looked up in time to see a boy punch the hideous man in the jaw.

"Sol!"

He looked back, flashing her a smile, "Hey there A-"

The meaty hand came down in retaliation. Catching him in the temple, the blow sent him careening back. Asha yelped, but she needn't have. With hand taunt against the cart and back foot planted amongst the cobbles, the star chuckled.

"Doesn't hurt, remember?" he muttered out of the side of his mouth.

"Oh-" she breathed before a horrid paw tangled in her skirt. She shrieked and kicked at it before Sol jumped in front of her and pushed the skinny man away.

"Get up in the cart!" he shouted over his shoulder.

The girl pulled herself over the lip in time to allow the star enough room to duck under another blow from the first man. Keeping low, he rushed his burly foe, hitting him square in the gut.

There was no reaction. Not even a grunt.

Sol slowly looked up. Beady eyes shined over a massive beard.

"Heh," the boy swallowed, "You drink your milk, huh?"

Thick fingers grasped the back of the star's shirt and yanked him up. Level with the huge man, Sol was sure he could see him breathing smoke. Crooked yellow teeth broke into a grin.

Well, this was unfortunate...

"SOL!" Asha screamed. A quick look back saw her retreating to the back of the cart with Dahlia, away from legions of grasping hands.

"On it!" he returned his gaze to the man, matching the grin with his own maniacal glint, "Terribly sorry about this."

A snake was upon his shoulder, slithering its way down the boys sleeve, over the assailant's wrist, and around his arm. One look at its fangs and Sol was dropped like a stone. The cobra swayed over the man's head as he flailed about.

"Get it off! GET IT OFF! DON'T LET IT BITE ME!!!"

A few from the group jumped to his aid, leaving the pathway clear for the star to assist the girls.

Up in the wooden bed he went, punching and kicking his way through. He heard every unclean desire, every sickening wish. Anger flooded him, oh what he wanted to do to these wretches. He fought with the hangers-on until he reached where the two huddled amongst the scattered loaves of bread. The friends clung to each other, wide eyed. Sol was sure he'd never seen Asha so scared. He bent down, "Hey, let's get out of here, okay?"

But then the magician's eyes didn't seem so fearful. In fact, maybe he had mistaken her expression before. Because now, when he was staring right at her, she looked kind of-

"Where the heck did you go last night?"

"Huh?"

"You heard me!" she dropped Dahlia's hand to poke him in the chest with every word, "I stayed up all night waiting for.... DUCK!"

The star dropped, pulling both girls down with him.

A left hook grazed brown hair then continued its flight, taking its owner along with it. The oaf's balance teetered, swayed, then failed. Falling fast, and falling hard, his massive body was bound toward the huddled teens.

With a suffocated curse, the star struck the wooden bed with his palm. The wheels beneath them creaked backward and hit the hind of the petrified mule. Startled, the animal stumbled forth only to be blocked by the mob. But the precious few inches were enough, as the assailant fell on wood alone. The rig jumped upon impact, but the man slid off and landed heavy on the road.

Sol lifted himself up, looking back at his handiwork, "Woah..."

"You didn't answer me!"

"You're asking me this NOW?"

Dahlia looked between them, "You two know each other?"

Asha's face flushed, "Oh yeah.... yeah we do...because...because..."

"We're-" the star grabbed a loaf of bread and smashed it in the face of another attacker, "-cousins!"

"Oh."

"Yes!" Asha picked up on Sol's strategy and took up a loaf in each hand, "And he just-" she threw one and it hit a stringy-haired ne'er-do-well,"-disappeared on me!"

"I didn't mean to!" he fired back, elbowing away another man, "It's complicated!"

Asha pulled away from her defensive position, standing chest-to-chest her eyes caught fire, "What's so complicated about it?"

The boy attempted to answer but a shrill scream interrupted them. Spinning around, horror drenched the magician. The giant man whom they'd assumed was unconscious was now gripping Dahlia under the arms and pulling her out of the cart. The baker fought, but her short stature was no match for the monster. The pair charged forward to help her before the ogre's head jerked to the side and his hold slackened. Teetering, the man collapsed, leaving Simon with murder in his eyes and a thick piece of wood in his hands.

"Atta boy Simon!" Sol cheered, "I knew you could do it!"

The ginger-haired boy blinked, looking away from his felled opponent, his eyes met Sol's, "Hey!" his finger jabbed, "You're that Italian kid!"

"Ah ha!" the star crushed a pair of lecherous fingers. Turning back, his expression was sheepish, "Buon pomeriggio!"

"Italian?" The short girl spluttered, her eyes darting around in bewilderment.

"Y-" Simon started before a blow to the stomach caused him to heave. His eyes fluttered. Dahlia called out his name as the attacker landed another punch. But the fiend had over adjusted, and the fist impacted the boy's shoulder instead of his neck. Regaining his senses, Simon cracked the wood against the skull of the combatant, causing him to fall limp at his feet.

The struggle continued, flying hands landed and missed blows with the same percentage of accuracy. It was a mess of flailing limbs and swears as the small party managed to hold off the angry mob. Then, like the sun appearing on the horizon, the sound of a horn cut through the melee.

"THE ROYAL GUARD!" some unidentified voice shouted above the mayhem.

The frenzy stopped at once. All those who could still stand - or were conscious for that matter - made a quick retreat. Scurrying like rats, they filtered into the many dark passageways. A few unconscious bodies lay around them, breathing softly, but all else was quiet with the exception of the approaching guard.

The adrenaline coursing through Asha's body left her quaking. The last hunk of bread fell from her hold. Steadying her hand against her chest, she could feel her heart running a marathon under her touch. The air crackled before she heard Sol's voice, "I have to go," his breath was hot in her ear.

"Right," she muttered back, "running away again."

"Asha-"

"Cousins?"

The pair looked up to see Dahlia and Simon staring at them as if they had horns growing from their heads. Oops. Asha wanted to kick herself, but she opted for an awkward smile, "Yeah...." she wisped, taking a step away from their intimate position, "My very.... distant...distant...distant, twice removed..." she patted the star's shoulder, "...cousin," she winced, there was no way they would buy it. There was obviously no resemblance, and she didn't know any family outside of Rosas. She winced, bracing for the question.

"I didn't know you had family in Italy," Dahlia's voice still quivered in the aftermath of the fight.

"Yes!" Sol piped up, propping his elbow on Asha's shoulder in return, "from Verona!"

"Venice!" the magician hissed.

"Exactly!" the star smiled while the girl's head dropped to her hand.

A clattering rose up, the guard was advancing toward their position. A sigh passed through the group. It was over, the ordeal was officially done. Asha tried to brush herself off the best she could, but she was a mess of crumbs and dirt. Not to mention the rips and tears that now decorated her dress. Holding whatever pride she had left, she remained standing as the company of knights filed toward the rag-tag troupe. The first gentlemen lifted his visor as he took in the destruction left in the wake of the encounter. Confused glances between himself and his compatriots ensued until he deigned to speak.

"You mean to tell me that the three of you did all of this?"

"Three-" Asha started before she observed the empty air next to her. It took all the self-control she had to keep from swearing.

Chapter Text

"Despicable, lowly, grotesque-" Magnifico left an angry slash in one of his many green ledgers before slamming it closed and sending it back to its kin. It floated up through the spiraling steps until it found its designated slot, "-horrid examples of humanity." His hands struck the top of his desk, his chair flying back as he stood, "I shall have them pay dearly for their behavior! The embarrassment this has wrought! One of my own staff!"

Asha stood, backlit by the cascade of stardust. Her hands twisted behind her. The incident a day old, she was free from most signs of the altercation, save for a few scratches that marred her face. Sol had worried over them the previous evening, but she had kept her answers short. Not one to dodge hints, the star had locked himself in the trunk for the rest of the evening-and for the morning for that matter. He normally wished her well before she left, and she had felt a tad neglected without it. She had gotten used to their daily routine; it was odd not to hear his muffled voice emanating from the trunk. On second thought, he had been more withdrawn recently. Sullen even. Was something going on? Was something wrong?

Her eyebrows furrowed; he could have been reading the room. Or at the very least listening to baser survival instincts...because boy, had she been angry! It had come on all of a sudden, like an ember catching on brush. It surprised even her in its aftermath. No wonder he didn't want to speak with her, in retrospect she wouldn't have wanted to carry on a conversation after all that. But then again that boy pulled her in a million different directions. Of course she'd eventually snap! A girl could only take so much! Sure, it had been a long time coming - and wasted on something rather small - but now the air was clear and they could start again.

But then why do I feel so horrible?

"You do agree, don't you?"

Her attention snapped back to the monarch who was now pacing in front of her. His face contorted to something fierce. She swallowed; the king had been another who'd been worn down by recent events. Asha had started to notice how his shoulders hunched, and how white had begun to creep into his hair. He fixed her with an icy stare, even his blue eyes were fading to a dull gray, "Señorita?!"

"Yes, of course!" she jumped to reply.

"Grand," he rasped, "After all, the only good criminal is a dead one."

The words raked along her spine. The memory of the raucous laughter rang through her ears. Her skin crawled remembering the desperate hands. She tensed her shoulders to keep from shuddering. She, more than anyone, wanted those disgusting creatures to be brought to heel. But something about the king's tone unsettled her in the same way. She could see his frenzied eyes rolling as he dashed out the quick decree. Under the frantic movements of a quill, the hangman's noose tightened. Finished, he stamped the parchment with a seal and whistled for the nearest guard. In a matter of seconds, the warrant was whisked away and off to implementation.

"I trust you are well?" The question was brisk and devoid of additional emotion.

Asha swallowed, "I-I suppose I am."

"Good, good, then we don't have much time to waste," the king snapped his fingers and the excess furniture started to shuffle away from the center, "With all these wishes, your training has been neglected. Ungrateful as our people may be-"

"Ungrateful?" she spoke before she'd had time to censor herself.

Magnifico turned as if she had called him the most horrid name, "Yes..." the word came out in a hiss, "Not many understand the importance of our work. It's not their fault per-se, but their incessant needs can become.... exhaustive."

A stone laid in her gut, "But surely...people who are starving want food?"

"Naturally," he sniffed, clapping his hands to light the sconces around them, "And the sailors want to work, and the tradesmen want wares, and the ruffians want...flesh," his mouth was tight.

Asha winced at the barb.

"Should we give them all their desires, Señorita? Wouldn't that lead to chaos, devastation, pain?" he sneered, "Surely you're smart enough to understand the gravity of it all."

Her nails dug into her palms, "Well, for those with selfish wishes, I certainly do understand your majesty-" she breathed, "but how you can compare the desires of a ruffian to those of a hungry family?"

"Ah," the king laughed, his teeth sharp in the light, "The naivety of youth! There is much learning for you yet!"

"But what happens when-" she stopped herself, biting down on her tongue.

"When?" Magnifico's voice was low.

"I misspoke your majesty, I didn't mean-"

"Oh, but you continue to misspeak, surely you must mean some of it," his mouth turned up into a smile, but the girl didn't like it, "So out with it."

The question leaked through quivering lips, "What happens when people start to die?"

"Feh!" he flung the question away with a wave, "People won't die."

"But how can you be certain?" Why did she keep talking? "I've seen so many...so thin and-"

"They have to bear it!"

The magician flailed, her mouth opening and closing like a fish, "What?" she eventually coughed.

Magnifico shook his head, turning from her as he pressed his knuckles to his forehead, "There are weights around all of our necks. We must carry them with pride."

"Y-you're saying," her voice shook, "people have to suffer.... they have to starve!"

The whites of his eyes were shot with red, "If that's the cost."

"B-but, there has to be another way! Sure-"

"THERE IS NO OTHER WAY!" his voice reverberated around the room.

Asha paled, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth.

Irritability rolled off the king in spades. Taking a moment to collect himself, his head tilted back to study the ceiling that flew above. With a sigh the flames were tempered, "It is the burden of a ruler, to accept the suffering of his kingdom for a better tomorrow," his hand rose to the city that surrounded them, "Who's to say how many we'd lose to illness if we opened the ports? Tens, hundreds, thousands?" he looked back at the silent girl, "Do you want people to die, Asha?"

She shook her head.

"Then we can come to an understanding," he breathed, "Everything has its price. Whether it be safety, power, or wealth," the monarch approached her, his eyes appearing to glow in their sockets, "A ruler's job is to weigh the price to determine if it's worth the cost. And sometimes," his voice dropped to a growl, "there is only one choice."

Asha looked up at the king, something in the back of her mind sparked. It meticulously untangled the king's words and decided that it was unsatisfied. Against her better judgment, she gave voice to that rebellious thought, "But what I don't understand, your majesty," her tone was soft but growing stronger, "is why those who are in Rosas, aren't allowed to gather? None of us are carrying plague, so why do we have to pretend like we are?"

Magnifico's nostrils flared, the light from the sconces reflecting devilish blots of amber in his pupils, "Why...you were a witness to that the other day, were you not?" he chuckled, "When people assemble it spreads anarchy, unrest. Had the royal guard not happened upon you, I shudder to think what may have transpired," his shoulders rolled, Asha watched the bandage turn, "A person can be trusted, but groups - mobs - cannot. Any assembly, no matter what the activity, will always lead to upheaval. And I refuse to be made a fool of by those whom I rule," his foot stamped the ground in emphasis, "Is that clear?"

"Even dancing?" the question escaped.

The king stepped back; his eyes roved over the magician's face. The girl fought to keep her manner placid, Stop being open. Bury it! Mask it! She drew her lips into a straight line and met the monarch's gaze with cool disinterest, "I asked a question," her tone as flat as her demeanor.

"I just find it odd that you would be interested in such a topic" he mused, "I suppose you're referring to the event which occurred at the Wayward Inn?"

A cold sweat laid on her brow.

"Yes..." he continued, walking around the girl as he did, "I knew about that."

I was there! I danced with Sol. Oh please, oh please...

"I have already dealt with that unpleasant incident."

"Dealt with it?" She struggled to keep her voice light.

The king stopped his pacing, "They have the same sentence as any traitor."

She was free falling, careening down into the void that had opened up beneath her feet. Her hand rose to her throat, "You don't mean?"

He tutted, "Now, now, please do stop being so ignorant about these things, Asha. You are intelligent enough to know-"

"They're to be hung?" her voice broke.

"It's nothing to bother yourself with. Besides, it's not everyone, only the facilitators," the king's face a veneer of pity, "They did bring it upon themselves after all."

"B-but," her throat constricted. Mad, he'd gone mad! That was the only way to explain this, "How were they traitorous? They weren't even-"

Magnifico drew up to his full height, "Are you trying to stand behind criminals?"

"They're not criminals!"

"I'll be the judge of that," his voice made her ill, "However, I suppose I do owe you...additional context," his tongue pushed against his bottom jaw, "So you can stop looking at me like some scared little doe."

The girl didn't think any extra information would settle the storm that was now raging within her.

"I must admit, I withheld information from you. Only because you were not ready," his tone was steady but tense, "Being that events have transpired as they have, I suppose I don't have the luxury of preparing you as well as I'd like."

Her jaw unlocking, the girl choked out, "Prepare me for what?"

The monarch regarded her with a mournful expression, "There is an intruder in our midst."

The storm froze over, coating her veins in ice. Her hands were clenched tight behind her. She was sure her knuckles were white.

The king took her silence for attention and continued, "My wife...and this kingdom, mean everything to me. They are what I am and without them I am lost," his teeth gnashed, "I have spent too many years holding this island together for it to be dashed apart by a lone marauder," he grimaced, "He wishes to rip this paradise away from us, you know. Him and his accursed kind, roving the skies for dreams to shatter, for hopes to steal."

"The stars," Asha spoke with a ghost of a voice.

"Indeed. Let it be known that there are always reasons for my laws," he wagged his finger, "Remember that nothing good ever comes from a star."

She wanted to disagree, but her tongue disobeyed.

"Never mind what the sailors say! Stars are waiting to catch you unawares. To offer you the deal of your dreams, only to come up behind you and-" he clenched his hand into a fist, "Crush you," he breathed through his nose, "No Asha, we can only depend on ourselves."

"But you've closed the ports, haven't you? Due to plague," she tried to misdirect, "Surely there hasn't been anyone coming in or out for weeks. How could a trai-"

"The ports were closed for him."

She was lightheaded. He was right, Sol had been right, "But one star-"

"Could ruin everything!" the king's voice cut like a sword.

"But how do you know he wishes to do harm? Couldn't he jus-"

"Please, Señorita stop that foolish babbling! You sound like your father!"

"....my father?"

His head turned to the side, "Forget it," he snarled, "Besides, I thought you were old enough to know the difference between fairy tales and reality. Your grandfather must have spun quite the yarn."

Asha's heart quickened.

"I have ruled here 500 years and I intend to reign 500 more," his voice slowed, "If this intruder stays, he will not only cause my demise, but the demise of the entire island. If you desire to see people die Asha, feel free to keep believing in fables," his eyes were wide, manic, "Does that enlighten you enough?"

The magician swallowed, "So, what do we do?"

The king's eyes were lidded in thought as he shrugged, "Find him," he looked out at the glimmering ocean beyond the city, "lock him away..."

"And then what?"

The monarch laughed; she could see his shoulder blades bounce. Removing himself from the exposed archway, he revealed a tight smile, "That is for me to worry about."

The room spun around her, "Then...you lied..."

"There are no lies Señorita, only strategy. Information is sacred. Who knows and doesn't know is the most important decision you'll ever make. Like a game of chess, one bad decision can lose you everything. I only divulge pertinent information to those I trust. Count yourself as lucky."

She couldn't have felt farther from it.

"Now," Magnifico's hand clapped her shoulder, she jumped out of her reverie, "We are dallying. There's too much to teach you and not enough time to do it. Are you ready?"

The girl felt like she was moving through a thick layer of fog. Some separate part of herself nodded and went along with the lesson. Not entirely sure what to do. Fearful to show any signs of skepticism or worry, she dutifully copied the hand motions and recited the spells. But there was a part that the king couldn't see. Some small speck buried deep inside that couldn't stop screaming.

Chapter Text

Sol spent the afternoon negotiating with the contents of his stomach. Hanging over the small desk, he faced an open window and a clear, clean, place to neatly evacuate his insides. And though he fought the urge bravely, his closing arguments were rather unconvincing. The deceitful organ told him as much, flipping over for the third time in as many minutes.

Gasping, his head was thrust into the open air. He breathed in deep, trying to extract some benefit from the breeze he imagined smelt of salt....but...alas....

You fool, you can't even smell anything!

With a groan, the casement was shut. Focusing on the tabletop before him, a scrap of parchment glistened in the western sun.

YOU'RE NOT STARTING ANOTHER WAR, ARE YOU?

"Not if I can help it," he grumbled before a cough assaulted him.

His back arched. One hand fisted against his mouth and the other, bloodless, in a stranglehold against the table edge. Every muscle siezed in the onslaught. Choking on air in between, broken, mucus-ridden, noises issued in the second bout. But by the third time round, his chest exhausted, his final cough terminated in a wheeze. Breathing at last, he looked down at his hand and grunted.

Speckles of blood stood stark against his golden skin.

That was new.

Somewhere else in the house, another person continued to cough. It had started in conjunction with Sol's attack, but this one was harsher, longer, deadlier. He grimaced; he wasn't the only one suffering under this roof. There was someone else, and his situation was far more dire. One that not even a wish could fix. Not that he would be able to make one. Out of everyone in this house, Sabino's desires never introduced themselves to Sol. He was inclined to believe that he had none. The only thing the boy was able to pick up on was regret. The old man eventually stopped, and silence descended. The boy sighed, he was happy Asha wasn't here, he didn't like the look in her eyes when she listened.

Asha.... his fist tightened.

He had been careless during yesterday's altercation. Expended himself too much. Sucking in air between his teeth, he flipped up the underside of his shirt and cleaned off the red spray. She couldn't know. He didn't want her to worry, especially not after the day she'd had. Rage still played at the back of his mind when he thought back to what those men had wanted to do. He stuffed the bloodied hem back into his trousers. It was getting dangerous, her precious position made her a target of ire and spite. And the king's favor wasn't going to save her from a desperate crowd. If anything, it would doom her. The room tilted, he wasn't sure if it was his fever or the stomach-dropping thought. He ground his knuckles against the table, if only she'd take a step back from it all and see what was going on.

Another wave of sick threatened to overtake him. His fingers pressed against his abdomen, Not again...

A flash of violet pulled at the corner of his vision. Looking up, he saw Asha walking along the dirt path. Swallowing bile, suddenly his nausea was the furthest thing from his mind.

He watched her pace - unsteady and pensive - her arms were crossed, and her head cast toward the ground. She stopped partway up and looked at the window. Could she see him? He didn't know. But their eyes met nonetheless. His fevered and hers full of shame.

His tongue clicked, what had happened?

He watched the girl shake herself and continue on toward the house. The door opened below him, and muffled greetings ensued. A quick response from the girl saw her taking the steps two at a time. Sol snatched his brother's letter and stuffed it in his breast pocket before the door opened.

"Sol!"

He readjusted himself to appear as if he was lounging against the desk instead of using it for support. He put on his best smile.

"Hey there."

Valentino bleated his own greeting, but Asha crossed the room as if he didn't exist. She grabbed the boy's wrist with one hand and drew the curtains closed with the other.

"Get away from the window!" her eyes were frantic as she tried to pull him away.

Keeping one hand glued to the desk, he fought against her tugging, "What's the big deal?"

"Big deal? Big deal?!" she stopped her pulling as both hands jumped up to gesticulate, "How are you not more careful?"

"I'm always careful!" his insides sloshed around in disagreement, "What is this all about?"

"Sol...I..." her movements were erratic, fingers knotted in her hair, ".... I'm sorry...you were right."

"Right about what?"

"Oh, stop this!" she tangled her fingers in his shirt and shook him. Her face was so close he could see every pore, "The king is looking for you!"

It took a second for the star to process the words, caught between shock and her kaleidoscope eyes.

The magician pushed through his silence, "I-I think he's gone mad."

He broke his trance, "I don't think it's madness."

"Well, what else could it be?"

"Power."

Her fearful eyes blinked, sense reappearing behind them. She moved away, pinching the bridge of her nose, "No I don't think-," she looked back at the boy, seeing him for what felt like the first time. Her words died. He looked pale. His light no longer constant, it flickered at odd intervals. She didn't remember him having bags under his eyes, and wasn't he a bit thinner too? Something turned in her head, "A...are you okay?"

Pity. She was looking at him with pity. And concern.

 Crap.

He pushed himself off the desk. Sticking his thumbs in the hem of his pants, his shoulders slouched and his mouth settled in a lazy smirk. Even though his vision spun, and his breathing was labored, he kept on with the illusion. Because he didn't want her to know. She couldn't know. If she knew, she would send him back, and he wasn't ready to go.

"Just dandy!"

Yes, that was it! No need to get her involved with his health, he'd figure something out...eventually.

She fixed him with a critical look, her eyes roving again over the decay of his figure. But in need of some kernel of hope, she took his explanation greedily, "Okay..."

"So, what are you going to do?"

"I-I guess.... Oh, I'm not sure!"

"Well, you're not going to continue to study under him, right?...If he's mad and all-"

Her lips tightened and she averted her gaze, "Yeah, yeah I am."

"Woah, what do you mean?" his voice gained strength, "You come in here and tell me I'm right, just to go back to the nut hopped up on stardust?!"

Asha planted her finger against her lips, but Sol batted away her warning, "Asha, that man is evil!"

"I know that, but I can't just stop when-" she bit her tongue. There was no need to burden Sol with the fate of the dancers, not when he looked so tired. No, she would fix it, she knew she would. There had to be a way to wrest them from their fate. She just had to train a little while longer, learn a bit more...

"When what?"

"When the whole city is at the mercy of a monster and there's no one standing in the way! I need to be that person Sol. The queen certainly isn't stopping him, so I have to be the one-"

"Asha, you don't have to be the hero all the time."

"But then who will be?"

"Someone who knows what they're doing!"

The words struck her. Her throat constricted; she was doing the best she could! She didn't know what else to do! Protect her family. Guard the kingdom. Depose the king. Her brain tied then untied itself like Sabino's rope. Her voice rasped, "I'm doing what I can...and what I can is influence things from my current position," embers glowed in her glare, "Unless you have another bright idea."

The star remained silent.

The girl scoffed, "Just what I thought," she breathed deep, "Look, this is what we'll do. I will help you capture the queen... whatever that entails. Then you can take her up and away to wherever, and I'll deal with the king."

"And then what?"

"Then I'll fill in with my duties as ruler a bit early. The kingdom will be freed from a tyrant, and you'll get your escapee back," she extended her hand to him, "Win-win."

He stared down at her gesture of good faith. There had been a time when he would have gladly installed her as the new queen. In fact, it had been plan A of a myriad of different re-drafts that had paraded across his mind. But now as her eyes glazed over with the future, he saw another mistake forming before him, "You've got this all figured out...haven't you?"

"Not really but," she pushed her hand closer to him, "we can fill in the gaps when they come up."

His mouth set, he took her hand and shook.

Later that night, when Asha was asleep, he burned his brother's letter.

****

Dahlia still felt horrible. As the weeks had passed, the unsteady feeling had only gotten worse. Eating away at her like some sort of parasite. It was a shadow always there, hanging over her shoulder. She shivered; it leaned over her now as she walked through the old tunnel. It moved closer every day, speaking through her thoughts, whispering in her ear.

Something is coming, something horrible.

She pushed it away, but it kept pace with her as she picked through the disused tunnel.

There used to be many subterranean thoroughfares that wound their way underneath the city. A long time ago, they had been the lifeblood of the castle. Goods careened down these packed dirt paths and servants bustled here and there, appearing like magic throughout the palace. Not to mention it had been a valuable asset against invasion. But those days were long gone. When peace had fallen over the island, the tunnels were seen as an unneeded excess. Costing much of the crown's gold to maintain, they were blocked off and forgotten about. Though the memory still lived on with a select few, and like the rest of her family, Dahlia intimately knew the brittle and broken way. Sure, many passages had since collapsed or flooded, but there were some that stood strong against erosion. It was one of these pathways that she took now. She readjusted the blanket that covered the basket as the ceiling dripped above. She felt safer here, especially after the incident from the other day, she shivered. Not to mention that leaving the castle had started to become...challenging. Never before had she been stopped at the gates, questioned, then searched. That nasty feeling rose up again and she flirted with it for a second before putting it away.

Yes, these were strange times.

Strange times...strange times indeed.

Her grip tightened on her crutch. Miraculously it had made it out of the mob in one piece. Rescued by a battered and bruised Simon. She smiled to herself as she recounted his triumphant expression. And how he had presented it to her! He had almost bowed! She giggled; how silly he was. He really did want to be a knight...didn't he? Her lips pursed as she slowed her unsteady gait. Near blind in the shadowy expanse, her crutch tapped the wall next to her...one...two... three...shuuushhh. She met leaves. Ah ha! A sliver of sunlight leaked across the path. Shimmying her way through the thin gap between the rock wall and a tree, she stumbled out into sunshine. Blinking away the shadows she left behind, she found herself atop a ridge. She looked down over the terracotta roofs and traced the path up the incline until she saw the little thatch cottage shining at the top. She fidgeted with the basket and picked her way toward the outskirts of town.

The streets were quiet, it was near midnight after all. She sighed, working through her growing fatigue. The moments were sparse when the baker could sneak away from the royal kitchens and growing rarer by the day. What with the king dismissing a fair number of staff. Not all at once, but in small batches. They had lost their errand boy first, then the dishwashers, then the laundress, and after that some of the lower cooks. It had gone on like this until only Dahlia's family and the head chief remained. There had been something muttered about security, or some other reason that the girl had no business butting in on, but it all put her in a very tedious position. Her hands were raw from scrubbing dishes and now her clothes were stained with worse things than flour. Oh, she didn't like how things were changing! The shadow laughed at her, but she continued walking.

Her route was quick. Too quick if she was to be honest. By the time her fingers pulled back the leather latch, she was still trying to shore up the courage to cross the threshold. It's just a thank you, nothing more, "Stop being so silly Dahlia."

But you want it to be something more.

She was careful to keep her footfalls light as she approached the door. Through the gleaming glass she could see the curtains were closed. Good, she wanted to drop and basket and get on with the evening. No use sticking around and wasting his time with words that meant nothing. She swallowed, well surely it meant nothing to him! She placed the basket down with nary a sound. It was an expression of gratitude, from one friend to another. If he wouldn't accept charity, then he would accept this. No need to imagine things that weren't there. She was helping him.... that was all.

She made her way back to the gate and closed it. The wood whined underneath her touch. Cursing her luck, she turned and ran the best she could away from the cottage. She soon got lost between the many white-washed dwellings. By the time Simon opened the door, the baker had long disappeared.

He glanced toward the end of the short path, then to the right and left. Strange, he could have sworn that he heard the gate open but there was no one in the yard... His eyes found the basket.

Bending down, he pushed the thin blanket aside to reveal a thick slab of bacon. His heart leapt; he pulled it back further. Bread, there was bread and preserves and.... a note was tucked carefully at the back of the basket. He took it and held it up to the light.

Thank you

-D

The boy grinned and took the bounty inside.

Chapter Text

 "It seems unnatural that we should be enjoying meat when everyone else is gnawing on bones," Sabino grumbled into the stew, poking at the chunks of beef that floated within.

Asha silently agreed. Pushing one of the rubbery chunks down her throat, she grimaced as she swallowed. Well at least it wasn't good meat. But what could they expect? It was a gift. The king had applauded her for her quick improvement over the past week. His eyes had been gleeful as he praised her, pride clear in his movements, "You and your family shall feast like royalty tonight." The overly-preserved meat got stuck on the way down and she coughed a few times before it released. Quite the elegant feast this was, her lips curled at the lumps remaining.

"Baba, you must count your blessings. Especially in times such as these," Sakina's voice was tense as she negotiated with her own piece of beef, chewing it for far longer than normal, "It'll drive you mad to think about all the things others don't have."

Mad...the word caused Asha to tense. By some sheer luck, the dancers' execution was stayed, but only by Asha's endless pleading. Or if Magnifico had anything to say about it, her whining. But after she had promised him more time and attentiveness to her apprenticeship, he had relinquished his original verdict. They were a small bother anyway, he had said, perhaps an elongated stay in the dungeon would fix them. And true to her word, the girl had thrown her full dedication into her training. Arriving well before dawn and leaving in the wee hours of the night. She now spent more time at the castle than at home. She wandered desolate streets; and had very little time to spare both her family and the star that now moped around all the time. Well...maybe not moped, but he certainly hadn't been wasting many words on her. Most of the time she supposed he was asleep; it was the rare occasion that she would see him out of the trunk. Whenever she did, their conversations were brief and repetitive. Her heart twinged, but she shoveled another spoonful of stew into her mouth before she could think on it further.

"Habibti?"

Asha looked up.

"Have you put some more thought into the king's offer?"

The stew hardened in her stomach, "You are always welcome a place here, Señorita. With the recent unpleasantness, I do hope you consider." That's what the man had said with his snake tongue and bloodshot eyes. With sense she had thanked him, with grace she had said she would take it into consideration, but with foolishness she had told her mother about it. Her mother whom hadn't given her a moment of peace since the altercation a week ago. How she had worried over her, interrogated her, and chastised her for the late nights and early days. Asha often thought that her mother only relaxed when she was surrounded by high walls and numerous guards. Though the girl held her tongue on the fact that most soldiers were patrolling the endless streets and alleyways instead of spanning the battlements.

With lead in her chest, the magician answered truthfully, "No Yemma, I prefer it here." She couldn't live there. Not where everything was cold and dark. Not where the king got lost in his ledgers while the kingdom starved. Not where the queen picked her apart with words. She dropped her spoon, and it rang against the side of the bowl. Fine china, another gift of appreciation. The blue flowers turned gray under the broth.

Sakina was silent. The only sound the scraping of her utensil against the bottom of the bowl. Asha reached again for her spoon.

"Do you think that's wise?"

Her hand froze, the danger lying underneath the question palpable. The girl tempered her words, "I want to be here for you.... for Baba. If I lived at the castle, I wouldn't see you anymore-"

"Yes, but you'd be safe!"

"Yemma, it was only one incident. They don't pass out alms like that anymore. Besides, I was only helping Dahlia. It won't happen again."

"Sakina," the craggy voice of Sabino rose up, "If she doesn't want to live at the palace, let her come home. The house would be so quiet without her."

Across the table Asha's eyes met his. A wink and a nod was enough to make her heart soar. Maybe her grandfather didn't despise her after all! Maybe he had forgiven her! He must have come around to everything, especially with how well they were being preserved by the king's accommodation.

Thank you, she mouthed.

"And let her be mauled by the riffraff roaming the streets!" the woman's voice peaked, "How dare you suggest she put her life at stake!"

"It's not dangerous, Yemma! I'm very careful, and besides the streets are empty."

"More opportunity for a scoundrel to steal you away with no witnesses!"

"But Yemma-"

"NO!"

The woman threw her spoon to the table, her stool squealed, skidding to a stop two feet away. Her eyes were frantic, "You will accept the king's generosity, Asha. If not for your sake, then for mine, for your father's," she drew in a thin breath, "I can't lose you too."

The magician's throat was thick, she reached across to where her mother's hands braced against the table, "But you won't. I'll be fine-"

"Everybody says that!" she snapped back, "My Tomás said that, and he died, Baba says it and he's getting sicker every day!" The old man's face turned gray at those words, "Everybody lies Asha. Don't you dare be another! Stay at the castle."

The girl stood slowly, meeting her mother's eyes, "No, Yemma. Please...I can't."

"Why? When we have been so well provided for? When the king has made sure we are fed and clothed? Why wouldn't you want to live in the splendor of the palace with the kindness he has shown?"

Asha shook her head, "Yemma, it's changed. It's not the same as when you and Papa were there. Please, let me stay here!"

"Homesickness is no reason to throw away your life!"

"But I'm not!"

"Sakina-" the old man started before a coughing fit exploded from his cracked lips. His whole body lurched to the sound of cracking bones and ruptured lungs.

"Baba!" Asha yelped, racing around the table to attend to him. Her hands pressed against his seizing shoulders, "Baba?"

"Water...water m-mijita..." his voice so fragile, he more mouthed the words than spoke. Her movements panicked; the girl leapt to the barrel of water. She spun around with the full ladle in hand when her mother's shrill cry caused her to drop it. The dipper rocked over the uneven wooden floor, picking up the small particles of salt Asha had dislodged with her foot.

The room stilled, even Sabino's coughing lessened to a wheeze. All three stared at the shoe-sized hole that the girl had kicked in the white line.

"What have you done?" her mother's voice was shaking.

"Yemma, I-I'm sorry...let me fix it...I'll fix it!" she dropped to her knees, anxious hands swept the tiny crystals back into place. But they stuck to her sweaty palms, to the damp floor...

"You're not doing it right!" Sakina dropped next her daughter. Asha watched as her mother gingerly shooed the salt along. Patting it down, shaping the line again. Her fingers crooked, her hands dry and callused. A million tiny scars standing bright against her dark skin. The magician watched those once noble hands work and anger grew inside her. These futile rituals, these idiotic prayers. They got them nowhere, nothing! They were only driving her mother mad.... mad like the king.

Asha's hands clawed at the repaired line, swishing around the salt. Tiny particles were thrown across the floor, glittering like stardust in the light. Sakina screamed. She screamed as she had the night Tomás died. She screamed like the world was coming to an end. The girl grit her teeth and kept swiping. She wanted it to all go away, have it disappear through the floorboards, scatter it to the wind. No more superstitions, no more apologies, no more fantasies!

Something squeezed her wrists. Her sight blurred as she was yanked around to stare into her mother's pallid face, "Asha," the woman's tone was death.

The girl breathed hard, her hands open and covered in salt. Her teeth clenched tight she growled, "This is pointless, Yemma. All of this is idiotic, superstitious, nonsense!"

"You hold your tongue young lady!"

Poison ran in her veins. Like a viper, she felt it dripping through her teeth, landing on her tongue, "Do you really think a little salt would have kept Papa from dying?"

Sakina's eyes flashed. Pain, she had caused her mother pain. As the hold on her wrists dropped, Asha's stomach dropped with it, "Oh...Yemma...I-"

"No," her mother's voice was cold as she picked herself up from the floor. Scarred hands brushed down her skirt. She stood over the magician, composed with the exception of her pursed lips, "I sacrificed so much for you Asha. When Tomás died we lost everything. I worked...no slaved for you. Made sure you had food, you had stardust, you had opportunities," her mouth turned down, the corners trembled, "And here you are, repaying my hard work and suffering with selfishness. Well...fine. If you don't care about your life.... about us then go ahead and go where you want. Do what you want to do. If you say I don't have to worry, then I won't. You can do whatever you desire because after all," the words oozed like oil, "you are the king's apprentice."

"Yem-"

But her mother was already racing up the stairs away from her daughter. If she could do anything, she would spare Asha the sight of her tears.

"What are you becoming mijita?" Sabino croaked from the chair.

The magician turned her head away. Her face screwing up against the onslaught of her own tears, she tore out the door.

****

Asha picked a direction and started walking. She didn't know where she wanted to go, she just wanted to get as far away from the house as possible. Her mind swirled with the events of the fight. Who was right? Who was wrong? Had she misspoken? No, of course not! Yemma had to stop her little rituals. They were unhealthy. They were odd. People would talk...no they were talking. What were they thinking? Nothing nice she'd bet. And if the talk got to the king! Mad as he was, he would recognize another as batty as him. Then what would happen? Disgrace? Defenestration? Or... her hand brushed her throat. No, she was doing this for her mother's own good. For her family's own good. They just didn't understand, they couldn't see-

"Asha?"

"Oh, you're talking to me now? Well don't you just have the best timing," her voice was thick with suppressed tears.

Sol's breath was tight in his chest, "You didn't have to say those things-"

The girl spun, her hair flying behind her, the vision of rage, "I don't need someone else angry with me!"

"I'm not angry," his voice was sincere, gentle.

"Then-" her hands tightened into fists, "...then...." Looking at his face she couldn't summon up a mean enough word. Her fury deflated.

"Why do you still go to him Asha?"

"You know very well why."

The star shook his head, "What's the real reason?"

"You know, I'm getting really tired of you looking inside my head-"

"I'm not-"

"Whatever!" she flung up her hands and started to stomp away. Sol jogged after and fell into step next to her. She focused her eyes on the shadow he cast, "Since you're such a know-it-all, you tell me what the real answer is."

"You're scared."

She stopped walking.

"You're terrified of what will happen to your family, never mind you, if you call it quits," the star continued, "You're scared that you were wrong and maybe you should have never started this apprenticeship in the first place. But then if you were wrong, that would mean-"

"That's enough!" her rough voice cut him off.

"Fear isn't something you make decisions with, Asha."

"Well, we can't change the paths we've chosen now, can we?" she fixed him with a look that could curdle milk, "We can only see where they lead."

The star clenched his teeth, "You're wrong," he seized her hand. With a tug he took her away from the beaten path and started cutting through trees and brush. His pace quick, he leapt and bounded over the uneven earth. Asha stumbled after, using her other hand to hike her skirt away from the brambles.

"Where are we going?!"

"Trust me!"

The pair raced through the forest, emerging to the northwest of the city. The star zipped along the decline, careening along the narrow walkway that led to the docks, then veering left. They soared past the tightly packed houses and bent roofs; Asha wasn't entirely certain if their feet were touching the ground as they went along. A woman dropped her basket of linens in their wake and a guard barked orders for them to halt. But by the time the words reached their ears, they were around the corner and racing through another needle-thin alley. With a squeeze of her hand, the two came to a halt. The girl had to let the scenery sink in before she realized where he had taken her.

"This is that sailor's place...the man with the broken-"

Sol didn't pay attention to her comment, his focus was on an approaching figure. She followed his sight line and saw the man in question. Hugo...that was his name, she remembered as she watched his jaunty walk along the bumpy road. Or it appeared jaunty, she could only see him from the waist up. The rest was hidden by a wheelbarrow laden in bricks and cobblestones. Ah, so he had taken up masonry! Or at least was the apprentice of one. It was one of the only jobs left in the city. The king did like to go on and on about the improvements he'd like...to....

Hugo's leg was bleeding.

She saw it as he passed in front of them. His pant leg was stained a deep burgundy, glistening wet in the sun as he went by. Behind him trailed little ruby droplets. Misshapen in appearance, they lined up in an uneven formation. Asha looked back at Sol. His eyes found hers, they were sad and tired...too tired, "You can see it now, can't you?"

She made a noise halfway between a hiccup and a gasp. She could feel the ground sway beneath her. The storm that had abated on the other side of her mind swept her up once more in its howling wind and pelting rain. Again, she was in that tiny boat. Again, she was hiding in the belly, clutching the seat. Again, she called out for her Papa. But no answer came...not anymore.

Somewhere during her catatonic shock, she found herself running to the injured man. Her fingers grasped his shirt sleeve and his lazy head turned to look back at her. His eyes seeing yet not seeing.... like Luisa. The girl gulped, she felt her lips form the words, "Señor, you're hurt again."

The man blinked, looking down at where Asha stared, his head rose again to meet her, "I remember you. You were with the king! I suppose you're his apprentice coming to check up on me. How kind of you," his smile was broad, "But I am well, better than well. With this old leg of mine," he slapped the bloodied limb, "up and running again, I can work!"

The magician backed up, horror wrapping her in its cold embrace.

"It's all thanks to the king. What a blessing! Yes, a blessing!"

"But-"

"Hmmm?"

She couldn't stop looking at the wound, "H-how did you get that...that...injury?"

The sailor blinked, staring inwardly, the wheels of his mind turned. After a few seconds he sighed and shook his head, "Strangest thing...can't remember. Funny that. Oh well, I suppose it doesn't matter now that it's healed!"

"It's not-" Asha closed her eyes and steadied her pounding heart. Once again finding Hugo's faded stare, she pleaded, "Don't walk around on it too much...the...the king wanted me to let you know it take it easy...give time for the wish to...take."

The man absorbed her lie with a nod, "I'll keep that in mind. Anyhow," he took the wheelbarrow up again, "These bricks won't move themselves. A good evening to you and your..." his gaze fell upon the brown-haired boy a few paces away, "...friend," he finished, positively beaming as he continued down the way.

The girl watched the man leave, and minded the trail he left behind. The stew was starting to make its way back up. With unsteady feet she backed away. Her retreat halted when she bumped into Sol.

"Now do you see what I mean?"

She turned then, staring into his heavy eyes, looking for some reason or modicum of hope, "But...but something must have gone wrong. The wish not finished...or something. The king must be told so he can-"

"The mad king?"

She grimaced and dropped eye contact.

"Asha..." the star placed soft hands against her shoulders, craning his head he found her downcast stare, "...these are the wishes the king grants. They are nothing more but smoke and mirrors. Magic tricks with terrible prices."

"But surely not all the wishes! They would have noticed other unhealed injuries! Or other wishes gone bad. Somebody will notice him bleeding. Somebody will tell that man to be careful! They'll put him back in bed...and..." her voice died with Sol's shaking head.

"They won't."

"But why?"

"They can't."

"But he's going to bleed to death if he keeps-"

"I know."

"But you have to be able to do something. To actually heal him. Please Sol, he's going to die otherwise!"

He reacted as if she had struck him, "I can only grant wishes Asha. If that man believes his wish was already granted then..." he took in a shuddering breath, "...there's nothing I can do."

The girl's hand reached up and gripped the star's hands as if they were a lifeline, "So all of the wishes...over the past 500 years...they've been..."

"False," he whispered, "Curses more like."

"But why can't they see?"

"Because they believe in it," but the girl's questioning eyes spurred him further, "You know that magic is given its power through belief. You see it with every spell you cast, convincing yourself what is untrue to be true...remember?"

The girl recalled the room, the paperweight, his embrace. She nodded.

"Well, the more people who buy into an enchantment, the more powerful it becomes. But the second you doubt, it falls apart. You can see straight through to the trick, like you are now," he brought her hands down to hang low in the space between them. His thumb traced the lines of her palm, "The stronger the spell is, the harder it is to disentangle yourself from the illusion. But the weaker," he nodded back to Hugo's diminishing form, " You can see with ease."

She slid out of his loose hold and rubbed the goosebumps that flared on her arms, "But there has to have been others who've doubted. The kingdom is 500 years old! I find it hard to believe-"

"Don't you think those would have been the first people to receive the king's 'gift?'"

Acid rose in her throat.

"You're right, he's ruled for 500 years, but he's gotten lots of experience, hasn't he? I bet he's also got lots of rules, lots of laws. And I bet breaking any of them would be intolerable," he spat, "I bet he can't even spare the smallest infraction for fear of his carefully laid kingdom falling."

The dancers....

"So...as long as the king remains powerful in the eyes of the people..."

"There will be no end to his reign."

She felt like she was suffocating, "Except death."

Sol's face leached color. He didn't volunteer an answer, but his tightened jaw marked his agreement.

"Please then," her voice was heavy, "tell me everything."

Chapter Text

Asha hugged her legs and tried to digest the enormity of it all. A book, that was all it took. A simple, unimpressive, book of impossible power. Something so old, that even the stars had little knowledge of where it came from. Pressed between yellowed pages was wisdom older than the sun itself. An incredible wealth of spells spoken across the galaxies. The possession of such an item would render the user a relative god to his people. It would be the obsession of anyone who had truly mastered stardust. But for such a tremendous tool, it had bought many to their knees. Fore the cost of such immense power far outmatched the benefit.

"It holds a dangerous kind of knowledge," Sol sighed under the spectral light of the grotto. The only secret place Asha could think of, they had made their way there as if the entire royal army was on their heels. Sequestered in the indigo cavern, dark tales hung heavy in the air. "Again, I was never able to read it myself," he continued, "nobody was. It was treated like...well.... like gunpowder near an open flame. But I was never interested in it anyway."

"Why?" the girl spoke over her knees, "Seems like something anybody would want to get their hands on."

"Anybody who couldn't grant wishes," he smirked, "Kinda didn't need any help with that."

"Oh...yeah..."

"It was supposed to stay under lock and key in the celestial library. How that witch got past Draco is beyond me.... but..." he leaned his head back against the slick wall, "...without it you wouldn't have your kingdom here so...take that as you will."

"So, all of our spells are from that book?"

"No, not all...only the impossible ones."

"Impossible ones?"

"Yeah, like your eternal sun," he made a vague gesture above them, "it clogs the air with so much stardust I'm surprised you don't feel it. It's like moving through mud."

"Woah, woah...you knew the whole time?!"

"Nah, not exactly. I had my suspicions but when I saw him..." resentment fell over his face, "...when I saw him...." A suffocated grunt finished the sentence, "I realized it was worse than I thought," his lips pulled back in a sneer, "You have to wonder, after 500 years, how much of his humanity is left."

Cold fingers ran down the girl's back. She squeezed her legs tighter, "It never could grant wishes, could it?"

"Oh, it can grant wishes. Whether he's using it for that or not doesn't really matter. But the forbidden magic is the closest thing to wish granting you can get. Of course...what it takes to achieve your desire would surely bring you to ruin...but it can. Like any magic, it can't make something from nothing. Only wishes can do that.... the real ones, I mean," his eyes narrowed, "It needs tribute of a sort, and not the nice kind."

"What kind would that be?"

"An eye for an eye, a bone for a bone, a soul for a soul," he tapped his finger against the rock, "Equivalent to what you're asking for."

Her nails bit into her skin, "Then what did the king have to give up for his enchantment?"

"I don't know," there was bite in his voice, "but I'd hate to find out."

Asha agreed, her head nodding in thought. All of it, the castle, the magic, the wishes...everything that she had dreamed about.... struggled to achieve...called down the very sky for.... was only an illusion. It was no better than her tying ribbons to her wrists and gunpowder to her ankle. "The only ones who have to 'perform' are charlatans. No better than thieves." She breathed in at the memory. Closing her eyes, she let her forehead hit her knees.

....thieves....thief...

Her head rose slowly, "You called him a thief," she looked over at him, "What did he take?"

"Memories," he cleared his throat. Wincing for a second, his discomfort was gone in the next breath, "Exactly which ones, or how many, I'm not sure," he pushed his hair back, "But I don't know how anyone could forget the injury that crippled them," his nostrils flared, "Convenient thing too, wouldn't want his recollections of other shores to muddy his faith in the monarchy."

"Then Luisa..."

"Luisa?"

The girl shook her head, "Some woman I know. She's awfully stuck up and proud for being a butcher's wife, but she has a knack for stardust," he lips pursed, "one that I don't have...naturally I mean," her voice sheepish, "But anymore she has the same look as Hugo did.... you know...." she passed a hand in front of her eyes and stared at some unfixed point, "...unfocused."

"It's because they're seeing into a different world. One where their wishes have been granted," he swallowed, "If the illusion ever breaks it will be a difficult day for them."

"How would it break?"

"Their names would have to be torn from the book and destroyed. No matter if everyone in the kingdom wakes up tomorrow and tries to shake the enchanted from their delusions...the book will still hold them captive...even if it kills them," his tongue clicked, "In fact...sometimes I think that's its goal."

Asha felt sick, "We have to stop him then. Him and the queen," she stood, feeling fire burning at her heels, "We have to do something!"

Hooded eyes regarded her with an amused smile, "I'm happy that we're finally on the same page, but what do you suggest?"

"Well...I..." her eyebrows knit together.

Sol stretched, his face speckled in the refracted light of a million water droplets, "We'll figure-"

The magician leapt in front of him, he startled in the crosshairs of her pointing finger.

"Baba!"

"Huh?"

"My Baba! He's traveled all seven seas and talked in ten different languages. Not to mention sat in the presence of kings...well one king...but at least one king!"

"Your point?"

"He'll know what to do!"

"He's only a man Asha...I'm not sure-"

She grabbed his hand, "I know he will."

His insides jumped as one. He didn't realize his mouth was moving until the words reached his ears, "You know, you have 108 freckles, not 72. I missed the ones by your ears."

"What?"

"Oh agh.... AHEM," he took his hand back and cleared his throat in the most atrocious manner, "...let's go see your grandfather then..." he muttered around his fist.

"Uh...ah...yes!" the girl agreed, shooing the boy along first. As he jumped up to squeeze his way through the narrow exit, Asha tugged on her ear. Something rushed through her. It was hot, boiling. She could feel her face prickle with it. She touched her cheeks. They were warm. Blushing...she was blushing?! Agh, she was warm, and her chest felt tight. Oof, it must be getting stuffy in here! Too stuffy, that's why her face was flushed. She started to fan herself with her hands, calling after Sol to hurry up. She needed fresh air.

****

According to the sun's position, it was well past midnight when Asha and Sol returned to the cottage. With a deep breath, the girl opened the door a crack and peered inside. By the sliver of light that leaked through, she saw that her mother was nowhere in sight. Guilt wrapped its lead weight around her heart. She winced at the memory of the argument, but seeing the candlelight flicker underneath her grandfather's curtain, she disentangled the weight and set it aside. There would be plenty of time to talk to her mother, to smooth things out. But right now, there were people slowly dying, trapped in the shadow of their dearest wishes. She swallowed back her misgivings and pushed the door open, whisper quiet in the oppressive silence of the house.

She beckoned to Sol and they both passed over the threshold with the stealth of cats. The disguise evaporated; his dull glow worked as their lantern while they picked their way around the silhouettes of furniture. When they reached the old curtain, Asha nudged the star out of sight. No need to bombard the old man with too much information up front. She smoothed down her skirt and was just about to announce her presence when she heard her grandfather shift behind the fabric.

"Mijita?"

"Oh!" she stuck her face through, making sure to block out any indication of the luminescent figure behind her, "Baba, hi..."

The small alcove was just big enough to fit a narrow bed and a shelf packed tight with books and scrolls. He had pulled one of the stools in and set a small lamp on the seat. She could tell the oil was running low because the flame was starting the peter, throwing harsh shadows against the low walls. He was sitting up in bed, one of the threadbare pillows against his lower back. There were down pillows and fine linen available to him, but Sabino had been too stubborn to accept. He had said he wouldn't take a gift from a swindler. How right he'd been, Asha's fingers bit into the moth-eaten curtains.

The old man laid the book he'd been reading against his stomach. His glassy eyes blinked wet in the feeble light, "There you are Asha."

"Oh Baba!" the girl slid through the beige fabric and dropped to her knees by her grandfather's bedside, "Baba!" she took his bony hand in hers, "I've made a mess of things! I- I don't know what to do!"

He looked down at his granddaughter, the wrinkles in his face deepened, "Mijita," his other hand patted her head, "You certainly have," he exhaled, "But I suppose you are your father's daughter. He always had the knack for pushing things too far. However, you must know that this apology is wasted on me! It's your mother that needs to hear this. Why don't you go to her?"

She squeezed that weak hand, "Because Baba...I need your help," she stood up slowly, backing toward the curtain, "N-now don't freak out...ok?"

"Freak...out?"

The magician's hand tangled in the curtain; she winced before whipping it aside.

Sol was a beacon in the dim room. His expression quizzical as he took in the small alcove and the elderly man in his spindly bed. After a suspended second, he waved, "Hi."

The lamp burned out, but the room was still illuminated as the star took a careful step forward.

"Ah," the old man spoke at last, taking in the celestial stranger, "You have a star on your hands."

"Not just any star Baba," the girl grabbed Sol's arm, pulling him to stand beside her, "A wishing star."

"Hmm..." he re-adjusted himself, taking time to swing his frail legs over the side of the bed. Tucking his feet into slippers, his raspy voice rose again, "...an even bigger problem. Come..." he pushed himself off the mattress with some struggle. Asha jumped to assist but he waved her away, gaining balance on his own, "...let us talk about this properly."

They followed his wobbly steps over to the small table. Sitting down, he spoke in hushed tones, his eyes wandering up the steps and in the general direction of Sakina's room, "I suggest you keep your mother out of this. You've caused her enough strife already. It would break her heart to know that her daughter," he fixed his weary gaze on Asha, "used other...dishonorable means to gain favor with the king."

The girl looked down at her hands, shame sitting on her shoulders.

"Now stop with that somber look, mijita. What is done is done, now we have...eh..." Sabino gestured to the star, "...what is your name, joven?"

"Sol," he stuck his hand out over the small table, "And you, señor?"

Tickled by the gesture, the old man chuckled as his rough hand shook the star's, "It's Sabino, but señor is fine," he let go and settled back on the stool, his fingers laced together against his abdomen, "I do enjoy such an honorable manner coming from one so unearthly."

The boy shrugged, "Well señor, I've had a lot of practice."

"Indeed," Sabino rumbled, looking between his granddaughter and the odd boy, "Now, how do we find ourselves in such a strange situation?"

Asha started talking first, then Sol jumped in to add context, but the girl had to intercede to clarify the loose ends he left behind. On and on the winding explanation went. Going into this or that, or some other thing. The old man's eyes widened and narrowed as new layers were added on and taken away. It was a miracle that he even followed the basic structure. He harrumphed and hummed his understanding at some parts, then peppered them with questions at others. By the time they had completed their story, the girl's tongue was spent. She went to the dipper to clear the cotton that had settled in her throat. While she gulped down water, the star ended their sordid tale.

"So, you see," the star bounced his leg to dispense his anxiety, "We dearly need your help."

Sabino tapped the table, his tongue stuck between his teeth, "Ay, how this island has fallen. I knew that heathen up there on the hill was rotten...but how...and..." his breath came out reedy, "How Tomás stood beside that man for so many years...I'll never know."

The girl's gentle hand brushed the old man's shoulder, "Baba," her voice strained, "Did Papa know?"

The old man's face turned bitter, "He knew enough...that was what helped him make his decision at the end of the day."

"His decision?"

"Sit down Asha, I want to see your face when I speak to you."

The girl tensed; her steps sharp as she rounded the table to find her seat again. Sol looked between her and Sabino, the grim atmosphere enough to turn his already queasy constitution, "Your father," he turned to the anxious girl, "and the king?" he implored the stoic grandfather.

"Ay," the old man croaked, "My son was a talented young man. Brilliant and fiercely passionate, but aimless," his eyes shone with the light of the past, "I tried to entice him into my career. He would have been a great sailor," his finger tapped his temple, "he had the instinct for it. Could be as cunning as the devil if he wanted to be...but..." he scratched at the worn wood, "...he fell in love. And what could I do but wish him well? As a man who had fallen just as deeply, I gave him my blessing," his teeth worried his dry lips, "he couldn't have been more than twenty when he left for Rosas. He married a beautiful woman and was introduced to her trade."

"That's when he learned how to use stardust?" the girl gasped, "But that's so late!"

"Yes, and he was a natural!" Sabino sniffed, pride playing across his face, "He far surpassed many a magician here on this island. Even his own wife admitted to her husband's talent. But I must say, she doesn't give herself enough credit. The two of them together were something to see," his smile was uneasy, but genuine, "I never trusted his new career, but when I saw the two of them perform..." he breathed, "...oh, how the world stopped spinning to admire the majesty of their union! I thought, my ill-ease must be unfounded. How could something so beautiful be malicious?" His teeth clacked together, "But that was before the king noticed his talents."

"He became a royal magician..."

"There used to be more of their number before your father took up the coat of arms. But the king started to close himself off more and more. Dismissing many as he saw fit, until only your mother and father were left. He trusted them...at least that's what Tomás told me," His eyes darkened, "Though I am inclined to believe him. From his letters I could tell he was prized by Magnifico. He was valued like a friend...maybe even as a son...but I came to Rosas long after your father started to have his doubts," his lids drooped, "I'm sure he would have been afforded the same opportunity as you, Asha, had things not gone on as they did," his breath shuddered, "He never told me much, but he was sure his friend had changed. Said he'd gone mad, took a turn. I told him his 'friend' had always been that way. Tomás didn't like that and..." his cheek pulsed, his eyes flicking back and forth, "....and he...." he breathed in, "...well I suppose you know the rest."

"What was his decision then, Baba?" the magician's voice was soft.

The old man shored up his emotions, swallowing back the thickness in his voice, his chest swelled, "He would have walked away from it all, Asha. Taken you and your mother far away from this island. He would have come back to the continent. But he wanted to give that man one more chance..."

"And then he got sick?"

The old man's eyes were hard as they met the star's question, "Yes, and then he got sick."

Sol could feel the guilt oozing from Sabino. It hung over him like a cloud. As thick as a swamp and just as desolate. It was hard for him to breathe.

"Baba," Asha reached across the table and took up his hand once again, "Surely, we can do more than just run away? There are people who are suffering!"

His smile was regretful as he patted her hand, "Mijita, sadly that is something I cannot help with. But..." his sight wandered to the ceiling, seeing past the enchantment and to the night sky above, "I am sure your answer can be found with the stars."

"Oh Baba," Asha's head dropped to the crook of her arm, "That's always your answer!"

"And I'm never wrong, am I?" he nodded toward Sol, "After all, you followed my advice to get your friend here, didn't you?" he paused, studying the boy's face, "In fact, I would think you would have already asked your brother about this, Sol."

The magician picked her head up, "Brother?"

The star's face was pale, the corner of his mouth twitched, "How did you know?"

The old man rubbed his chin, "Unmistakable resemblance. Though he is a bit taller. I'm sure Polaris would be eager to know where his fugitive queen went, aye?"

The girl was aghast. She gave the star a shove but ended up having to snap in his ear to get his attention, "You have a brother?!"

"Yes," Sabino answered before Sol could compile his thoughts, "The north star as you know him. Runs a tight ship up there, doesn't he?" he winked, but the boy stared back with a mournful expression.

"Why didn't you tell me you had a brother Sol?"

I'm not ready.

"I've been having a hard time getting in contact with him," the lie was awkward.

The old man's brow twisted but Asha took it in stride, "Well then maybe we should go to him? I can show him how to get back to the island.

I'm not ready.

"I suppose."

I'm not ready to go!

"Then let's go tonight! The stars will be out for hours more. Let's-"

"No!"

Both the girl and the old man looked from Sol, then to the upper right-hand corner where Sakina slept. After no stirring aroused from that spot, a breath passed through the room before the old man dared to speak, "Well, you'll have to see him sometime...won't you?"

The boy met the critical stare and held it, dread unfolding within him. Bowing his head he surrendered, "Fine. But tomorrow night. I just want one more day," he looked up at Asha through his wind-swept blond hair, "Please?"

She felt time slow as his golden eyes found hers. Her breath caught. She felt warm again. Her heart was beating too fast, fluttering. Was this normal? All around her was silent, unreal, unusual...until she exhaled, and world moved again. She gulped, trying to focus on anything but him, "Tomorrow then."

Sabino's hands clenched the table edge.

"Ah!" Asha looked over at her grandfather as if she had forgotten he was there. Maybe she had, "Baba, I have something for you," she jumped up from her stool, laying her hand against his back, "Stay here," she bid before sneaking up the steps. Sol watched her leave, his gaze following her until she rounded the corner.

"You've fallen in love with her, haven't you?"

The boy startled at the question. Eyes wide, his attention snapped back to the old man, "L-love? I-I don't know if it's as serious as tha-"

"I like that answer even less," Sabino growled, "Care to try again?"

The boy gulped, "I care very much for her señor."

"Better," he harrumphed, but his hold only tightened against the table edge, "Though still wrong."

"But I mean no disrespect-"

"No, no, you mistake me. I am not talking about your feelings. I'm talking about my granddaughter," the old man's jaw was firm, "Do you think it wise to hang around so long in our world? Look at you! You're more dust than star!"

"I was only trying to make sure she didn't hurt herself. Her wish was awfully powerful and-"

"And it was noble of you to make sure she was alright, but joven," the old man leaned over the worn tabletop, his voice dangerous and low, "There is no need for you to still be here. You have enough information, you could have gone to your brother weeks ago, and yet here we are talking. Both you and I know why you're still here, so let's not insult each other's intelligence. No," he restrained himself from yelling, but Sol could still see the vein throbbing in his forehead, "You are not to pursue her, understood?"

"Señor?"

"It would only end in tragedy. You'll die down here, and she can't follow you up there. So, you will see your brother, pickup your runaway, teach the king a lesson, and get some much-needed rest. No more, no less."

"But-"

"Understood?"

He picked at the sleeve of his shirt, not daring to look the old man in the eye, "Yes."

"Good," Sabino sat back down in his stool, "She's cried enough tears to last a lifetime. She doesn't need any more."

Sol opened his mouth to reply, but Asha's bustling interrupted his line of thought. In her arms were two scrolls, wrapped tight with red ribbon. Her face plastered with a pleased smile; she handed over the two cylinders like they were made of gold. Sabino took each one with raised eyebrows. His crooked fingers careful as they untied the delicate knot looped around each one. The parchment crinkled and whispered as they rolled open. Wonder spread over the old man's face as he beheld the beauty within.

"Oh...mijita..."

The girl hugged her grandfather from behind, "I'm sorry they're not finished...but I thought now was as good a time as any to give them to you," her smile softened, "I wanted to let you see the night sky again, Baba."

"And it is beautiful, mijita..."

Asha looked up to meet Sol's distant stare from across the table. She beamed, her face the color of summer, her eyes the promise of spring, her hair the bounty of fall, and her voice the brilliant snow of winter. She was so alive, so enchanting. He wanted to hold her and feel her heartbeat. He wanted to run with her through open fields. He wanted to explore the rest of the island...no...the world with her. He didn't want to leave her, he didn't want to forget, he didn't want the eons of time to separate them.

"You've fallen in love with her, haven't you?"

He matched the girl's smile, laughing with her, jabbering inane and inconsequential things. Maybe he had. But Sabino was right, he couldn't hurt her. So, he drank in every detail of the happy room. He studied every plane and curve of her face. He basked in the memory of their adventure. Because he wanted something to take with him when he left.

Chapter Text

Asha's knuckles rapped against the top of the chest, "Sol?"

It opened with a low creak. The boy peered over the lifted lid, resting his elbow against the seam, "You can't sleep, can you?"

She shook her head.

"Me neither," he sighed, emerging fully. He levitated for a second before his feet settled against the floor. He hadn't been flying much lately. True, he was doing a good job at playing down a lot of his more.... apparent features. But he could always be comfortable when it was only the two of them. At least, that's what the girl had thought. Her finger wound one of her braids around and around.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

"Absolutely," the star leaned against the wall.

"Oh..okay...good," brushing away her concern with some effort, she shifted her legs over and patted the empty spot left behind, "Want to talk?"

The boy's eyes grew wide as he stared at the space offered to him. So inviting....so close...but the old man's words cleaved his wandering thoughts like an axe through a log.

He gulped, "I-I much prefer it over here," his words were clumsy.

Her lips dipped for a second before jumping up again, a once lazy smile now fixed and strained. He had to look away. I'm sorry.

"Well then," something clicked at the back of her throat, "You'll be going home, huh?"

"Yeah."

"You must be excited. It's been...what...a bit over a month now?"

Sol shrugged.

"Fine..." she mumbled, "...I'll take that as a no." She leaned forward, grasping the baseboard, "You know, you're usually the talkative one in these situations...you gotta give me something to work with here!"

"I don't like it much up there."

Her head drifted to the side, "Weird, I'd think that would be more your...natural habitat."

He gave a light snort, "You talk about me like I'm a bird or something."

Asha's eyebrow raised, "Your point?"

The boy thought about it for a second. Coming up with nothing he snickered, "Touché."

"So," she settled back on her haunches, "what's so bad about your home?"

"It's not...bad. Just..." he sighed, "different. Not nearly as fun and very..." he screwed up his face into some approximation of snobbery, "...proper."

Asha snorted at the absurd expression. The star broke equally as fast. Their laughter mingled in chorus until they realized the hour and mutually started hushing each other. Amidst their dissipating cackles, curiosity got the better of the girl, "So I suppose that's what your brother's like?"

The light faded from his eyes, "He's a very serious man. But I suppose it's important for him to be. He's like a sheriff, you know," he drew circles in the air, "the entire night sky spins around him. He keeps things in check...like me and..."

"Constellations...like Cassiopeia?"

"Definitely. He uh..." the boy squirmed, "he really didn't take her running away well. I kinda thought that was the real reason I was sky-bound for so long."

"Sky...bound?"

"Yeah, kept from coming down to earth. When I ran into you that was actually my first night out in..." he worked out the math on his fingers, "thirteen hundred years, give or take a century."

"Thirteen...wait, that means-" numbers swirled around her head, "-that means the king is over..."

"No, no, no," Sol waved his hands, dispelling her conclusion, "I would say he's no older than six hundred years. I was...eh...grounded before all that business."

"Grounded...for what?"

"Well...heh..lemme see..." his eyes drifted up to the ceiling before he started counting off, "There was the Punic Wars...then the Library of Alexandria...then this fellow named Caligula..."

"Uh huh..."

His eyes narrowed, "You have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

"Uh uh."

"Well," he sighed, "to be brief, the last straw was Pompeii..." he choked on the name a bit, "My brother was less than pleased. Said he was tired of cleaning up my messes, and that he didn't want to catch me even looking down at the earth for at least eight hundred years."

"Wow...it must have been real bad..."

"Yeah...that's an understatement," his lips stretched to a thin line, "...but he was going easy on me, all things considered. I knew it, and decided I was going to be the best star I could be. I kept on top of my languages, worked on myself, pestered Orion.... the usual stuff. I really wanted to do well by my brother. My whole life I've been..." he sucked in his breath, "...I think I've been...a disappointment. Every time something went wrong, and I had to go crawling back to the sky for forgiveness, he would just look at me with this-ugh!" his head fell into his hands, "It was like I was some simpleton. Like he was expecting me to mess up, and it...I hated it..."

Asha pushed her nail into the wood between her fingers, "You're not a disappointment to me."

Something bloomed within him, but he smothered it. Recovering from his self-pity, he braced both hands behind his head, "Thanks...maybe I'll have you speak on my behalf at the trial."

The girl blinked, "Woah, wait...really?"

He snorted, "No, I'm just kidding," he stared at some point within himself, "Though, at this point, I may not be that far off."

"So...how did eight hundred turn into thirteen?"

"Well, when my time was almost up...Cassiopeia made her escape, and..." he grit his teeth, "...Polaris didn't want to worry about another 'liability.' So, I was stuck. But those extra five hundred years went by slow. And so...sooo boring!" he cringed at the recollection, "I mean...throwing dice day in and day out with the same result!" He paused before considering his audience, "You ever played?"

Asha shook her head.

"Well, never play it with a Greek. Perseus robbed me blind...that jerk..."

"Where is this going?"

Sol exhaled, his head dropping with it, "There was only so much I could occupy myself with, you know? I was starting to lose my mind! Finally, I went to my brother, and after a bunch of arguing, I was able to make a deal," he smiled, "I help him find the queen at the cost of my freedom. I mess up...that's it."

"But if you succeed?"

"I can go anywhere I like."

She folded her hands in her lap, "Then success is the only option."

"I'm glad you agree."

Asha's expression settled into something wistful as she looked at the boy lounging against the wall. Taking in the figure that had haunted her for weeks, she couldn't imagine her room without the celestial guest. She was getting accustomed to the sound of his voice, his easy laughter, and his not unattractive features. Well... maybe she was downplaying them a bit. She leaned forward, resting her elbows against the straw mattress, while her legs stirred the air behind her head. He was quite fetching. Funny how she hadn't taken too much notice of it before. She supposed that his daily annoyances had done wonders to dull his looks. But now as she thought back to all the intrusions, the lectures, the endless questions...her heart sank. Could it be...that she liked the company? Or had grown to like it...in a weird survival sort of way? Amazing what strenuous situations a person could get used to.

Her thoughts became words, "I think I'll miss you."

"You think?"

She felt her cheeks prickle. There she was blushing again! She averted her eyes, "W-well how can I be sure until you've gone, huh?"

His lips trilled, "That's a fine farewell. A regular poet, you are!"

"Please," she huffed, flipping herself over to lay on her back, "Like you won't be visiting every other day. Most likely I won't have the chance to miss you."

The silence was stifling.

The girl craned her neck, "Sol?"

"I won't."

"Won't what?"

"I won't be visiting...I can't."

She sat all the way up, "Why?"

He looked straight at her, he didn't even blink, "Once I go back, I can't ever talk to you again. Or anyone else that I've granted wishes for. Cause you only get-"

"-one," the girl's voice was husky, "And I guess I've used it, haven't I..."

He nodded.

"I see..."

"It's just the way of things. I don't like it...but..." he looked down at where his boot tapped the floor, "...that's the burden of being a star."

"You can't even send a letter?"

He glanced up to see the girl's incredulous expression, her mouth was mocking with its lopsided grin.

He exhaled, his own smile inching its way onto his face, "Maybe a letter. Just as long as you stay near water. Messages in bottles have an uncanny way of finding just about anybody."

"It's a deal then."

"Yeah," as long as you're not dead and buried by the time the letter finds you, his jubilant demeanor belied his inner thoughts, "It's a deal," he lifted his head, challenging her with his waggling eyebrows, "I'll make sure you're so sick of me that you couldn't possibly miss me!"

"Eh?"

"I'll flood the ports with them!" his arm swept over an imaginary scene, "It'll be an entire fleet floating toward your shores. An armada, if you will! It will be every idle thought and aimless word I can think of. I'll bombard you enough that you'll wish you never knew me!" he chuckled, but it was a melancholic sound, "How about that?"

"What did I get myself into!" she groaned, but a part of her was thrilled.

"Trouble, Asha. We got ourselves into so much trouble."

****

The next morning brought cold air from the sea. The king reclined in a large arched window, silhouetted in the light. In his hand he held a crumpled letter. The ink was still a bit wet, staining his palm as his fist clenched tighter.

So, the girl had taken ill, it wasn't a bother to him. There would be plenty of time to make up for the lesson lost. She had been improving steadily, impressively to be sure. Gone was the pathetic thing who'd almost been gored by a bull. Now she stood proud, determined, in her skill. She took to her lessons like a natural. It was extraordinary, stunning...almost supernatural. His tongue clicked; he would have never supposed that a girl who was so pitiful with stardust was only that way due to pure laziness. He wouldn't have pegged her for that...no, she was too hungry, too driven. His head settled against the carefully etched marble. Perhaps Tomás had more influence over his daughter than he thought.

The back of his neck itched. Casting his eyes to the hallway, there was nothing. Why was it that he still felt that man's gaze on him?

A frigid gale blew up the side of the palace and cut him through. He watched his body shudder and regarded it with disgust. The cold was affecting him more often these days. When he was young it had been invigorating...energizing. He loved it then. After all, things died in the cold on the mainland, but not here. Not under his sun. They didn't suffer from snow or rain. The crops may be growing smaller. The fields may be becoming dry and infertile. The cattle may be lowing for grass, for water...but they were warm. Nobody died from the cold. Nobody huddled scared in a hand-dug trench. Nobody was forced to choose between food or fire...nobody...

The king blinked. The ghost of a memory flitting away as quickly as it had occurred to him. With a grunt he rubbed his eyes and stood from his seat. Where had that come from?

His thoughts were scattered by a sudden yell. Something shattered. A scream.

Cassie...where was Cassie?!

The crumpled parchment fell from his hands as he lurched forward. Where was all that noise coming from? And all of a sudden too? He strode - no ran - down the narrow hallway. His boots beat the stone floor. His ragged breaths made him deaf to all other sounds. He cut the corner fast and pelted down the widening walkway. His heart thudded, beating in his chest, his throat, his head. He threw open a door and took the stairs two at a time. His limbs screamed. Blast his aging body, his weakening heart, his tired lungs! His steps slowed. His breath rasped. His hand planted itself against the rough wall and pulled him up...and up...and up...

Cassie...he had...to...get...to Cassie!

He threw his weight against the small door and stumbled out onto the gallery that ringed the main hall. Catching himself on the balustrade, his heaving breaths caught the attention of the small cluster of guards who were busy setting up defenses.

"Your Majesty!" they chorused, their hands not stopping from their work.

"Where is my wife?" he managed through a shuddering chest.

One voice rose to answer, "She's safe your Majesty! She waits for you in the throne room!"

Relief fell upon him. Thank goodness, she was alright. But he gulped down ice with his next question, "What is happening here?"

The sound of splintering wood echoed around the high ceiling, followed by a cry of pain, then silence.

"It's the townsfolk, your Majesty!" A rough tone answered.

"They're angry, your Majesty. They're calling for you...for the Queen!" someone else yelped. It was a young voice, trembling with terror.

Magnifico sneered, what good was a knight if he was scared of a little riot? "Fear is not desirable in a royal guard!" his voice was sharp in between his wheezing, "Stand strong men and defend this castle with honor! I shall speak to these imbeciles who wish to sow dissent."

His steps were powerful, proud, as he made his way to the throne room. He would be an incorrigible force for all those watching. Something strong and immovable, despite the fact that all he wanted to do was take Cassie in his arms and run.

He swept into the room. It was dim, with the curtains hastily tied off in front of all the windows. The queen rushed him from the gloom. Her slender arms wrapping around him once he entered.

"Mi amore!" her voice was in his ear, running down his spine, "It started as just a few beggar women, but then a whole crowd came! And oh, they started throwing rocks and...and...they broke my favorite vase!"

Wind billowed through the heavy curtains, lifting them enough to send strips of sunlight across the proud room before snuffing it out in their fall. His expression hardened. How dare these infernal creatures come to his castle? How dare they assault him? Harass him?! Had he not provided for them? Had he not allowed them to live luxurious in their deepest desires? Had he not brought this kingdom wealth? Insipid things his subjects were! He hadn't forced any of them to come. This isle was a retreat for him and his wife alone! So, what if they had been fleeing plague? Fleeing war? It wasn't his problem! Now these people - whom he had taken on out of the kindness of his own heart and sheltered from the harsh world beyond - wanted to attack him for a lapse in trade? Well, he had plenty of words for that!

He held the queen by the shoulders, looking down into those enchanting eyes of hers. This was his treasure. She was all that mattered in this little sanctuary of theirs. She was his light, his life. There was nothing before her and there would be nothing after. He pressed his lips against her forehead. The touch sparked through his body, raising the hair on his arms, on his neck. He loved her...and no one would take her away...ever.

His head dropped, nose to nose his breath finally steadied, "I will not let some insignificant rubes tell me what I ought to do."

Amaya smiled, her graceful fingers caressing his face, "Then let's tell them together."

Hand in hand the pair went to the balcony. The king grasped the thick cord and drew the curtains away in a violent slash. The violet fabric flew back and out the royal couple went. High up in their glittering balcony, they looked down upon the thronging townspeople. Little rat-like things they were. Gnashing their teeth and crying for food, for work, for relief. Magnifico grimaced, disgusting things with their rotting clothes and thin faces. It wasn't like they didn't eat at all, just a little less. Couldn't they bear it? Just for a while longer? Just until they found the star? Then everything would go back to normal, and they could gorge themselves on meat and wine again. They could become as fat as pigs if they so desired! Disgust raised his lip. Selfish...they were all so selfish!

He gave the queen's hand a squeeze before dropping it. She didn't realize he had until she saw him spread his arms to the mob below.

"People of Rosas, what has come over you?"

An indiscriminate mess of words and wails rose up from the crowd. He could see the sparkle of armor ringing the edges. His men were asserting control, but only barely. Anger brewed deep within him, but he fought to keep his calm facade.

"Of all the things I have done for you, this is how you answer it? With threats? With violence?"

The mob howled. It screamed.

"I am disappointed in you! I thought we were creating something beautiful here on this island, together! You can't become animals at the smallest inconvenience! We all must thrive despite the challenges. We all-"

A tomato arced above the balcony and burst against the king's chest. The foul smell of rot enveloped him. He fought the urge to gag. Then something else missed his head. Hitting the column beyond, it burst apart in a mess of maggots and overripe fruit. Another mass met the marble floor. What it had been, he didn't know, it had soured and swelled long before it had become a projectile.

All inhibitions broke at that moment, that is if the group had any to begin with. A barrage of ruined fruit and vegetables assaulted the balcony. Painting the white marble in purple, black and green. Amaya screamed as a wormy apple blew apart at her feet.

Rage painted the world red. How dare they threaten her! They could pummel him, claw at him, spit at him. But not her. She must be immaculate. She must be protected!

"ENOUGH!"

Stardust fell like rain over the mess below. The earth bucked and heaved underfoot. There were shrieks, cries. Women clung to their children and screamed for mercy, while men cursed the monarch above. Eyes manic, the king's hand closed into a fist. All was still.

"I let you stay out of kindness! Out of mercy!" his voice rang through the stony silence, "But I see that it is not enough for you!"

"Cariño," he heard his wife warn, but he was too enraged to heed it.

"You want food? You shall have it! You want money? You shall have it! But there is someone who is keeping it from you. It is him who lets you go hungry. Him that took away your work. Him that ceased the trade! There is an enemy in our paradise, and he must be apprehended!" His hands strangled the railing, the veins popping up purple beneath his skin, "Find the star who does this to us! Whomever provides me the intruder shall get whatever wish he desires!"

The mob below inhaled as one. Little conversations erupted. Hopeful chants and exclamations smothered the angrier protestations. Magnifico rocked back on his heels, a pleased smile pinched his lips. They were so predictable. So easily swayed by their desires. How could they have ever dreamt that they could intimidate him? There had to have been an instigator, a ringleader. He would root them out. This would never happen again.

"How will we know it's him?" a lone voice rang out.

The king scowled, looking down at the growing cacophony below.

"Who says that?"

"I, your majesty!"

The monarch's sight found the origin of the voice. It was a pudgy boy with ginger hair. Squinting at the fuzzy face from a distance, he had the impression that he'd seen this boy before. He cleared his throat, "Trust me," his voice rumbled down to the desperate figure, "you will be able to tell it's him."

The group shifted and the boy was lost in the cluster. With a sniff the king raised his hand in farewell and disappeared back into the shadowy throne room. Amaya followed after, yanking on the cord and shutting out the world with the thud of those heavy curtains.

Magnifico went to his throne, throwing himself down, his head dropped to his open hand, "Oh Cassie..."

"What have you done?!" her voice was piercing, frightful.

"What I could. I did what I could!"

"What you could?" her eyes flared as she approached him, "You have just alerted the intruder. If he hasn't fled yet, he surely will now! You fool-"

"WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO?" he roared.

She stood, impregnable, against the attack. She breathed deep before hissing, "I expect you to be a king, Boy. I expect tact, wisdom, restraint."

"Times such as these do not need restraint, they need action. Unless you wish me to take you out where the night sky burns," his voice got low, "You're going to have to let me protect you."

His words stilled her traitorous tongue. Bringing her fist to her mouth, she bit down on her knuckle. But all was numb. How horrid. She hated how weak he looked. He was so defeated and exhausted. Her love, her meaning, she was seeing him disappear before her while she stayed as she was.

"I'm sorry."

Stunned by her sincerity, his words stumbled, "Oh...mi reina..." he stood, using the chair's arms for support, "...there is no need for apology..." he enfolded her in his embrace and squeezed.

At least, she believed he did. She hoped he did. Fore she desperately wanted to feel it. To feel him. Not this vague weight that fell upon her shoulders. She desired the roughness of his beard, the smell of his cologne, the heat of his whispered words, and the taste of his kiss. She wanted him. All of him. But for that...

She pulled away. The thought of aching joints, of craggy voices, of decaying looks, poisoned her fantasy. She stood apart from him by only a foot, but it felt like a chasm. All he had done for her, what he had given, that would be her romance. And she wouldn't let anyone spoil it.

"You're tired, Cariño. I can tell," her lips pursed, "Perhaps it is time to put your own health in front of those who only wish to take."

"Your meaning?"

Her foxlike grin dimpled her cheeks. Rosy and soft, her cherubic features whispered temptations, "They do only live by your grace, don't they? Without your charity most of the town would have starved themselves already. It really doesn't take that long to die from hunger. Even quicker from thirst."

"Cassie?"

"Sometimes, people need to remember who shows them this kindness...and..." she leaned close, her face only an inch away, "...who can take it all away."

Magnifico stepped back, the curtain flared again, and the sharp light cut across his expression of dread, "Cass..."

"You do know," her step followed his. She pressed close, "We could stay in here and they out there. Selfish things that they are, let them figure it out. If they are so knowledgeable as to challenge their ruler," her lips brushed against his, "they can rot."

The man stiffened under her touch, but his eyes focused on hers. He was listening.

She smoothed down his collar, "This island was ours and ours alone before they deigned to come."

He spun his ring. Round and round it went. Smooth and thin from years of worrying and fussing. Years of an internal struggle that he was tired of fighting. How right his wife was! He was exhausted. He didn't want to wonder; he didn't want to argue or debate with himself anymore. He was sick of that insignificant slug that played at the back of his mind. Some person from the past who he couldn't remember. A shadow he couldn't live up to, or ever hope to be. Whoever that was, he didn't want him hanging around anymore. Now was a time for action.

With a set jaw he removed the ring and flung it into the dim expanse of the room. It clanged somewhere distant, and he was freed.

"Then let us make it ours again."

After the crowd was dispersed, and procedures under way, Amaya stared into her mirror. Running her hand over her smooth skin, she reaffirmed her decision.

Chapter Text

The night had been full of tossing and turning. Unable to settle, Asha decided that the wee hours before dawn were late enough. Leaving her room, her feet tread against the old floor with care. She didn't want to disturb anyone if she could help it. She liked the lavender time that was not quite night and not quite dawn. It was a moment where she could be by herself and collect her thoughts. Something she had been sorely missing these recent weeks. Holding her breath, she started down the stairs, only to be frozen by a busy shadow puttering around the main room. Startled at first, she quickly identified the movements as her mother. Guilt weaseled its way into her mind. Holding the railing tight, she sat down on the top step and watched.

The woman was busy cleaning. The worn broom swished across the floor, rhythmic in its sound. By the small lines of sunlight that leaked through the curtain, the girl could see that Sakina was cleaning up the mess from earlier. Throat thick, her nails dug into the banister. She could feel it splinter into her fingers, but she didn't mind. To some extent it was penance for her behavior the previous evening. She wanted to apologize. The words were on the tip of her tongue. But her jaw was clenched tight with regret or cowardice, she didn't know. She just kept watching.

Satisfied with the carefully swept mound, her mother stopped her work and leaned on the handle. The woman's eyes looked around the room before her. No...more like down at the floor around her. With a decisive sniff, the woman grasped the broom tight and stabbed the salt guarding the front door.

Asha gasped.

Sakina froze.

"No Yemma, please," the girl's voice was thin, but it sounded like a roar in the stillness, "I'm sorry."

There was no reply. The shadow below resumed her task. The white border scattered underneath thick bristles.

The magician watched as the entire room was wiped clean of her mother's superstition. Frozen to the spot, she only ran back to her room when the woman turned to enact the same action on the salt that protected the steps.

****

"Ok, well..." Asha's head popped over the lip of the boat, "She's seen better days, but I think she has one round trip left in her."

The star grunted in agreement, avoiding eye contact.

Pouting, she hid her face with her hair. She wasn't looking forward to this either, but he didn't have to have such a bad attitude about it.

She resumed her work, tapping each nail that held the creaking vessel together. As she crawled along the belly, it felt about as sturdy as parchment. Though, it may have been more her nerves than actual judgment. Stardust was pushed into the waterlogged cracks as she whispered words of strength and stability. But as she did so, they shook.....oh what was she so nervous about? Everything had been put right for the moment. She had successfully evaded the king...if only for a day. He'd accepted her letter with little challenge....so it couldn't be that. Perhaps it was because Yemma wasn't speaking to her? But it was nothing but a mild misunderstanding! They'd fought before...certainly not so cruelly....but she'd make it right! And she had given Sol one more day to fool around town. Everything was dealt with and done...so why was she still anxious?

The townspeople, she decided as her fingers worked out the splinters on the bow. People had been more alert today. Staring at her face... at Sol's face...as they had gone along. Like they were looking for something. She chewed on the inside of her cheek. Something had happened that morning. She'd heard the shouts in the distance, though she didn't know what. Needless to say, the pair had taken care to avoid the more populated areas of town. Yes, that had to be why her stomach was filled with lead. She gave the vessel a satisfactory thump before tying off the drawstring purse.

"Alright," she pushed herself up to standing, the boat swaying underfoot. "We're still without oars, but I think I have enough stardust to get back. Now if you'll do the honors on the way out-"

"We could fly."

The statement was delivered with such nonchalance, it took a second for the absurdity to sink in, "What?"

"Fly."

What are you doing?

Yes, Sol chided himself, what was he doing? His tongue outran his senses! Closing his teeth around it, he kicked himself for his wanting. He looked toward the confused girl, even in her befuddlement her beauty pulled at something deep within him. He swallowed. It was only one night. No doubt his brother would rush him back to the sky the second he saw him. Between the trouble he'd cultivated on the island and his worsening condition, there would be no negotiating. Not this time. He would never see Asha again.

He felt hollow at the thought...dead...

Ah, but it was one little flight! Something to stretch his muscles. Something to clear his mind. He hadn't flown in so long.....

"You are not to pursue her..."

He knew that. But this was nothing but a little fun. A bit of levity before the eventual goodbye. Could the old man really deny him that?

The imaginary Sabino was silent.

"You know..." the boy answered Asha's dumbstruck look with a chuckle. Stepping up, he walked on air, stopping inches from where she bobbed. Offering her his hand, he shoved away his better judgment, "...like birds do."

"Uh," she slid away, her heels hitting the back of the boat, "I don't know about that."

"Why not?"

"How am I going to get back without the boat?"

He shrugged, "We'll think of something. I'd never leave you stranded."

Her eyebrow raised.

"Well, I wouldn't!"

It jumped higher.

"Besides, Polaris will probably end up coming back with you anyway. You're covered."

A sigh hissed between her teeth. Tying the pouch to her waist she glanced up through thick lashes, "I suppose 'no' isn't an acceptable answer."

"Last chance, joven."

Sol waved away the spectral grandfather. Showing Asha a sly smile, he snickered, "You know me so well."

The corner of her mouth twitched as her hand grasped his, "Now take it easy. I've never-"

"Hold on!" he whooped. Pulling her to him, he shot across the murky water. Salt and brine sprayed as they dipped low to avoid the shallow exit to the ocean. The star nearly submerged the girl to clear it. Damp and angry, Asha's voice was rough with curses as she railed against his hold. He squeezed her tighter, a hurried apology rushing over her before they raced toward the sky.

The wind screamed in the magician's ears. She tensed against the star, her fighting became grappling and grabbing as she clawed for purchase. Her arms found his shoulders and wound tight around them. Eyes forced shut, her chest ached from her suppressed screams.

Then silence.

She felt Sol spin her around, keeping her wrists in a soft hold. She felt light. Like she was suspended, weightless, in the air.

"Take a look," she felt his breath against her cheek. Her skin alive with the static prickles of his stardust.

With a slow exhale, her eyes opened.

"Whoa."

Below the city of Rosas sat like a lantern upon the water. Buildings glistened under a glassy dome, shimmering against the pink twilight that painted the sky above. Sunlight swelled and spilled onto the surrounding sea. Indigo water was bleached turquoise and glittered with millions of tiny diamonds. A tapestry of wonder cast upon a sapphire canvas.

"It must be beautiful," the boy mused, resting his chin against Asha's shoulder.

"Yes...yes, it is." She could feel him against her. Every rustle, every breath, every word. It burned.

"You know, we still have some time before the stars come out," his eyes were mischievous, "want to have some fun?"

Her face turned to his. Almost touching, the air sparked between them, "Just don't let go."

"Ye of little faith."

Off they went, smooth at first, gliding through the open air. He took her higher where they skated over clouds. They found footholds in the water vapor, jumping off one to land on another. The girl's hem was soaked but she didn't care. Her giggles twinkled in the gathering dark. It was the finest music, a symphony of joy. The boy was grinning, laughing along with her as they traveled. Then down from the atmosphere they came. Much gentler on their approach, they hovered above the sea. Running over it, their shadows chased them over the waves. The magician dropped her hand to catch the violet-tinged water. It jumped at her touch, spraying the colors of the sunset in their wake. Spinning, the star lifted up again. Floating hundreds of feet above the ocean, they waltzed through empty space. Her legs finding solid ground where there was none. Below them, other islands passed, sparkling dunes and mysterious coves. How far they had gone was a mystery. But as the world drifted by underneath her, she realized she didn't want this moment to end. She loved this suspended place, where there were no mad kings, no runaway queens, no disappointed mothers, and no curses.

"So, this is flying," she mused.

"You like it?"

"I'll admit...it was a bit rough at first but..." her head fell back against his sternum, "...it's wonderful."

"Well, it's the only thing that makes being a star bearab-" the boy's eyelids fluttered. His vision fractured. Tilted and blurry, he fought to see.

"Sol?"

The star's head lolled, and they plummeted earthward.

Falling end over end, the wind buffeted and beat the pair on their way down. The sea was reaching toward them, filling Asha's vision with black. She screamed. Holding onto the limp boy, her fingers were in his shirt, shaking him. She called his name. She begged. She cried.

"SOL, WE'RE FALLING!"

Feet from doom, the boy's head snapped up. There was a yelp and a swear, then their rapid descent froze. Quivering over their pale reflections, the star edged his way over to the nearest land he could find.

Upon the sandbar they fell, a gracious respite. The girl was placed with care before the boy's legs crumbled beneath him.

"Sol?" the girl took a step toward him before he seized and fell forward. His faint halted by his elbows; he started coughing. Deep and loud, she could see how his spine stuck out with each desperate retch. He strained, he heaved, he shook. Like the last leaf of autumn, he hunkered down and fought the inevitable. His fingers dug in the sand, grasping and releasing, then grasping again. It was awful, it was devastating...it was like....Baba.

She choked. Kneeling by him, her fearful hands were hovering over his frail form, "Sol..."

He spat. In the dying light it was red.

Pulling himself back up, he wiped his mouth with the back of his faded hand. He couldn't look at her. Embarrassment clear in his darting eyes he rasped, "Sorry."

She wanted to slap him, throttle him, whatever it took to knock some sense into him! Why hadn't he told her? How long had he been hiding this? Since she noticed the weight loss, the fading glow...maybe longer? What did he think he was doing?

But instead she only asked, "Are you alright?"

He opened his mouth to reply before starlight iced his hair. The boy shifted, hiding the russet sand as the temperature dropped.

"Bonne soirée. Boa noite. Masaa' el Kher. Kaló apógevma. Buona notte. Good Evening. Which one is it, Solaris?"

The boy cringed at the coarse tones of the olde language that ended the question. His shoulders rolled back, but he didn't face his brother.

Asha's head turned slowly, only recognizing one of the phrases that was uttered behind her. She met the entity that hovered above the ground. Her grandfather had been right, the resemblance was unmistakable. Though the man that floated there was far more severe. Clad in silver and white, Polaris looked at the two huddled figures with agitation. He repeated the last phrase again, but the girl still couldn't understand. Pushing down her fear, she stood to meet the new arrival. With her hands fisted at her sides, a shaky, "H-hello," issued from her.

Bland eyes took her in. Narrowing as they cataloged every detail, "Castilian."

"Yes."

The north star nodded, his gaze drifting back to his brother who had still not turned around, "And who are you, girl?"

Her mouth soured with the emphasis placed on the final word, "Asha," she rose to her toes, trying to compete with the man's height, "and I would much prefer if you used it."

She could hear Sol smother a guffaw behind her as his older brother's attention swung back. For a moment she thought she saw that scowl lift. Maybe a twitch of the cheek or a lightness behind the stare. But before she could pin it down the moment had passed, "I see," a cold voice answered. His head tilted toward the golden boy, still knelt in the sand, his hands busy with something at his feet, "we've had Esther, Cleopatra, Boudica.... and now A-sha. You do have a type."

The boy continued his task.

"Though she's better looking than Cleopatra, I'll give you that."

He was deaf to his brother's needling, whilst Asha flustered with the comment, not sure whether to feel flattered or mortified.

"Solaris!"

Nothing.

The north star landed. Brushing past the magician, he stalked toward his brother. His movements were pointed, his arms more jerking than swinging in his wide gait, "You disappear into thin air for weeks. No word besides a vague lead and this is how you conduct yoursel-"

Sol swung around, meeting his brother face to face. The stained sand dispersed, his foot hid the last traces of red, "How goes it?"

Polaris lost what little color he had. He took a step back, his jaw quivering, "Oh Andromeda..."

"That bad, huh?" he flickered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"What have you done?" The question was asked in the olde language. The younger star answered back in kind.

"I'm only helping."

"Helping...helping?! Who are you helping in this..." the silver hands gestured, panicked, ".... this condition?!"

"A kingdom, Polaris. Rosas," he leaned around his brother, meeting Asha's curious gaze, "Tell him Asha," he asked in her tongue, "Tell him about Rosas, about the queen-"

"I don't want to hear any of it!" the older brother looked between the pair, the castilian lashed like a whip, "the girl-"

"Asha!" the magician shouted.

The man's teeth clacked together at the retort. Oh, how his brother could pick them, "Asha..." he acquiesced, "...has gotten her wish, am I right? There is no need for you to stay here. Come!" His silver hand grasped Sol's arm and tugged, they both lifted off the ground, "We're leaving."

"Wait-"

"STOP!" the girl leapt forward, her arms trapping Sol's leg.

"What?" she could hear Polaris's brisk voice overhead, but her focus was dedicated to keeping her feet on the ground. A task that was fast becoming impossible as she started to drift upwards with them, her toes dragging through the sand, "Foolish girl, you can't follow us!"

"I know!" she growled back, "But I'm not about to get stranded out here in the middle of the ocean!"

She heard an oath before the older brother spoke again, "That can be arranged. I will return to see you back to your island. Now if you'll please let go, my brother is very ill..."

He kept talking, but the girl's mind was whirling with one answer.

No.

She knew Sol was sick, she knew that the best place for him was the night sky, but still she fought. She pulled and tugged, battling for every inch of earth she touched. There was something in her, it was deep, powerful, and irrational. And it hung on for dear life as she wove a plan. He couldn't leave, he just couldn't. He said it himself that he didn't like it up there. So why did he have to go? There had to be a way he could stick around. The queen was a star, and she was healthy. She had been so for five hundred years, at least! There had....to be...a.... way...

He had to stay.

"I'm getting tired of asking," the north star snapped.

She looked up, meeting those gray eyes.

"Let go!"

She thought of the stardust dangling from her hip. Sol had been so concerned about how she kept it. Always worried that one little word would cause it to react. That knowledge now playing in the back of her head, she smiled, "Uru na."

There was the sound of tearing before the boulder dragged them all back to the sand.

Landing spread-eagle and dazed. Asha's clumsy fingers fumbled with the belt around her waist. Once holding her drawstring purse, it now bound her to the massive rock that sat between herself and the alarmed north star. The weight had tightened the leather to unbearable levels, crushing her waist in the quick fall. Her nails tore at the thing, but it was no use. That was until Sol cut her free. The small knife crumbled away after its job was done. More stardust, gone.

The girl breathed again and scrambled back. Her hand found his, and she held it tight. They stood there, several paces away from the older brother, looking on as he slowly picked himself up. There was shock and confusion swaying behind his stoic expression. She could see it in how he moved, in how he looked at them. He studied the two, like he was trying to crack a puzzle.

"I-I need him to stay. We have so much to do-"

He saw their joined hands, his brow pinched.

"You use stardust," it was an accusation.

"I do."

"She does."

Their answers overlapped; the north star's expression darkened.

"I told you I had a lead...and..." the boy lifted Asha's arm in the air, "...here she is. A human who can use stardust. And she's not the only one. Who do you suppose taught them that?"

"A star," the man's mouth barely moved.

"You got it!" Sol kept the bravado in the midst of his brother's gathering anger. His arm fell, though he kept holding onto the girl, "And not just any star," he paused for effect, Polaris's grimace kept getting tighter. The boy cleared his throat, "Cassiopeia."

Silence laid thick as the news settled in the air. The older brother's reaction was nonexistent.

Swallowing in the awkward standoff, the girl stepped forward, "If I may-"

"You may not," the words slapped her.

"Polaris!" the boy answered with his own venom.

"Silence!" gray eyes glinted, "So I see you've gotten involved again little brother. It's a hazardous affair whenever you're let free...and this time..." his gaze once again pinpointed how they held to each other "...this time you've really done it."

"But we have your queen!" the girl braved.

"I don't like the look in your eyes, girl," the north star snarled, "you're a combustible little thing. I don't want my brother anywhere near you."

"But-"

Her retort was cut short as Sol dropped her hand. Taking a generous step away, he allowed space in between himself and the magician. His stare challenging as both arms raised in peace, "This is not about whether I'm involved or not," his tone was slow, careful, "I have found Casseopeia. She has set herself up as a queen under an enchanted sun. She rules with a man who has lived too long and hurt too many," he breathed, "Please brother, help us save her people. They are innocent in their compliance, yet they are starving for it."

A stoney face met his plea.

"Please."

Polaris looked away.

"They're dying."

"And so are you," the olde language slid thin from the man's lips, "For what, so you could enjoy a little fling? You fooled me, Solaris. I trusted you!"

"I didn't mean for any of this!" The boy continued in castilian, "You trusted me then, and you can trust me now," he met his brother's stare, "Once peace comes to Rosas, I will go back."

"A fairytale-"

"The truth!"

The older brother breathed; his sibling's eyes were clear of deceit. He spat, "You say she's on an island?"

"Yes."

"And you're certain it's her?"

"Yes."

The north star looked to the sky, "I don't know."

"Right," Sol ventured forth, his native tongue imploring, "I messed up...and I know what that means. But please," he winced, "let me clean up my own mess this time. Give me the chance to do better...just this once. The second we apprehend Cassiopeia," he rose to his full height, "I will return...forever."

"You mean..."

"No more messing up, no more getting involved, no more wishes," the boy glanced at Asha. She was lost in the strange language of the exchange, but her face was firm. He breathed deep. If he could get one more day, even one more minute, he would do it. Whatever the cost, he would bear it to look upon her for only a bit longer.

The action was not missed by his brother, "I see. You're growing up Sol...well done."

"Is that acceptable, then?" the boy asked in the girl's language. His tone clipped and proper.

The north star sighed, the common speech bitter on his tongue, "It is."

Able to follow the conversation again, the magician exclaimed, "So what's the plan?"

"Plan?" both brothers asked.

"Eh..."

"Wait!" Polaris balked, turning to his sibling, "You don't even have a plan?"

"Well...you see...I was working on one...and..."

"Typical."

"Hey!" the girl countered, stamping her foot, "We're asking for help, alright? This whole thing is bigger than the two of us, and my Baba always said to look to the stars. So..." her arms waved at the two celestial beings, "...here we are!"

The man stuck his tongue in his cheek, "Very well..." he sent his younger brother a glare, "...help you shall have." He reached to the air next to him. Snapping his fingers, a pearlescent arrow appeared in his grasp. Spinning it over his knuckles, he smirked. In that small action, Asha was struck by how much he resembled his younger brother. But the fun ended as the arrow stopped, laying horizontal in his outstretched fist.

"Where'd you get that?!" The boy balked.

"Dice game," came Polaris's lazy reply.

"Against who?"

"None of your business!" the older sibling retorted, "never expected you to be picky about these things."

"Wow..." Asha exhaled, transfixed by the glittering projectile. She reached toward it, stopping short to ask, "May I?"

The north star shrugged, "Go ahead."

Her fingers hadn't even grazed it before Sol leaned over and yanked it from his brother's hand.

"Hey!" she griped.

"Uh yeah, I'm holding onto this," he held the shaft up to his eye, looking from the quiver straight down to the arrowhead, "I can't believe you got your hands on this Polaris..."

"But why-"

"Because a single prick would make any human drop dead," his brother answered for him, "it's one of Apollo's arrows after all."

"Apollo..."

"Somebody who thinks very highly of himself," the boy grumbled.

"And someone whose arrows could bring down the sun, if only for a second," the man continued, "but that is all we'll need."

"What...are we supposed to shoot it at the sky?" The girl's tone was deprecating. Polaris decided he definitely wasn't fond of her. What his brother saw in this girl, he didn't know. All he could see was a snake, coiled and ready to strike. Her clear affection toward the boy was the only thing that gave him pause.

"As a matter of fact...yes. Though you will have to do it A-sha. If this sun is powerful enough to have hidden your kingdom from the night sky for this long, I doubt any star would be able to show the way. Only humans can navigate daylight.... reliably. We just need an opening, enough to ferry in reinforcements to capture the queen. Though, it's important to wait until she's in front of you before you take the shot," he straightened his tunic, "Once the starlight touches her we'll be able to track her down."

"So...not exactly easy, but doable. I suppose there's a bow as well?"

"You can manipulate stardust," the man snorted, "make one."

"Ah ha..."

"I will await your signal. The entire galaxy will be on standby until then," he dug around in his pockets while the boy slid the arrow up his sleeve.

"Solaris."

"Huh?"

An apple flew through the air, the boy caught it before it could hit his nose. It was golden, sparkling in the moonlight overhead.

"Eat something once in a while, alright?"

A smile broke out on the younger brother's face. Rubbing it against his shirt, he gave it a bite. Like most things, it tasted of nothing, but the stardust within made him feel more awake than he'd been for weeks.

"Thanks," he lisped around another bite.

"And Solaris," The boy jumped when he looked up, his brother was inches from him. How quick he moved! The man grabbed his free hand, giving it a firm shake "Make sure you come home," with a jerk, he pulled the young star to him, hissing in his ear, "And be mindful of that girl Sol. Keep her at arm's length. Ambitious humans like that only reap destruction."

The younger brother's grip tightened on the half-eaten apple, "I'll be fine, Polaris."

"Swear it!"

The sibling breathed into the silence, "On the sky."

"Good," relief fell over his brother before he reached back and cuffed Sol on the back of the head. The boy was suddenly staring down at his feet, bewildered, "That's for lying to me. Wish it hurt, but what are you going to do?"

"Heh..." The sibling mussed his hair as he looked back up at the north star, "See you around then."

"See you soon," Polaris stepped up into the air. His head turned and he saw Asha inching back toward Sol. Looking between the two, his frown deepened, "Be careful," he warned before becoming one with the mess of stars above.

Sol watched after. Finishing the apple, he threw the core to the black waves that surrounded them.

The girl reached him, stretching to look at his upturned face she whispered, "Feeling better?"

"Oh Asha!" he laughed, "I'm feeling wonderful, I'm-" he turned, and his hands were on her waist. Her feet left the ground as he spun her. She shrieked and giggled, the world around them blurring, "I'm here, I stayed, Asha. I..."

The whirling slowed. They were close. More than close, embracing. His breath on her, her eyes on him. The crashing waves ceased, and the stars above went out. In this small world, floating on the edge of oblivion, the two of them stared. Both terribly aware of the other. Each knowing what they wanted, each breathing faster, each reaching further, each wanting more. The air crackled and hissed. Lips brushed, almost touching...

Then Asha's feet hit the ground.

"We should be getting back," the star coughed. His hands fell away, shoved behind his back. His pace was brisk as he picked a direction and marched, "If we take it easy, I should be able to get you back no problem.

"Oh..." the girl breathed. The back of her hand pressed against her mouth. Her fingers clenched, "Then let's go."

Chapter Text

The trip back was fraught with peril. Well...mild peril. True, Asha had been dropped a bit, but Sol had rescued her...

....kinda.

He managed to catch her each time, but every plummet brought her closer to those ever-reaching waves. All the while, the sea bided its time, awaiting her fated fall like some primordial shark, all gaping maw and white-foamed teeth.

And fate came swift, the star's strength failing him once more, she plunged into that horrid, cold, bleak, water. Her screams were bubbles as the abyss dragged her down....down.....down. Struggling against the undertow, she sobbed when Sol's arm cut through the shadows. Holding fast to that wonderfully bright, wonderfully warm, arm; she was freed. Grasping him tight amidst his endless apologies, she didn't mind how sodden she was, nor how the wind chilled. His embrace was the sun, melting away the clammy hold of the ocean. She curled closer. Oh, how nice it was to have someone save her from the storm.

An awkward cough from Sol had them resume their journey. Making a much needed adjustment, they shortened their progress to leaps and bounds. Jumping from reef, to rock, to peninsula; they pieced their way back to the island. But less than a hundred feet from shore, gravity had the final word, and pulled the exhausted star from the sky. Left to bob within reach of Rosas the girl dutifully returned the favor. Golden hand in hers, she drew the boy toward the city he couldn't see. They swam as one, past the enchantment and into the gentle embrace of the rising tide.

Weak, cotton-mouthed, and covered in seaweed, Asha struggled ashore. Treasuring how the sand sifted through her fingers, she crawled the last few feet before she spied her shadow.

Sky above! It was already four o'clock in the morning! She thought they had more time! The roosters would be crowing soon enough. And that...meant....

With much effort she pushed herself to her knees, eyes sweeping the beach until she found Sol. He lay where the ocean had dropped him. Halfway in and halfway out, he sank into wet sand while the sea's weakened tendrils washed over his thighs. She watched his chest move, abrupt and shallow, there was a moment where she believed his breathing had stopped altogether. But his lungs soon swelled and her heart beat again.

Making her way over to the terribly worn-out, worn-down, worn-through, boy, she was struck by his face. A greyish pallor stained his once luminous features. Mouth agape, his eyes had glazed; the clouds above mirrored in golden corneas which had long lost their luster.

Asha worried a dampened braid. If it wasn't for the breathing, she would be certain he was....

Fear prickled at the back of her neck.

Shoving down those horrid thoughts, she reached over to shake him, thought better, then waved her hand over his eyes. Blinking, his head shifted to look up at her.

"We made it," his smile was thin.

"Yeah," she swallowed, "Are you sure you feel well enough to do all this? I mean your brother-"

"-Is exaggerating!" he shot upright, "Yeah, I'm a bit under the weather, but I've been worse."

"But..." The blood. Why was he coughing up blood?

"But?"

She shook herself of the memory. She peered at him, squinting...studying. Leaning close, their noses almost touched. Like the night they'd met, "You're sure?"

"Certain."

Dropping her gaze, she nodded.

"Great!" the boy chirped, easing himself to standing, he hooked his thumb over his shoulder, "I suppose we should be heading back."

She rose, attempting to brush her saturated clothes free of sand, and failing, "We should, but..." she grabbed his wrist. Raising it between them, she gave it a shake, "...aren't you forgetting something?"

"Ah. Oh...yeah..." he still glowed. Fainter to be sure, but still obvious.

Closing his eyes, he focused. In his mind's eye he was brunette. His light was fading, nonexistent. He was merely another human boy. One of the rabble that filled the kingdom. Practically invisible. He held onto that image and stepped into the disguise.

Or...he tried. His hand was still illuminated where Asha shook it in front of his face. The longer he tried, the more furious the shaking became.

"Hey!" he jerked away from her, "That's not helping!"

"Sorry, but we don't have much time! What's taking so long?"

"I...uh...no, I can do this!" he closed his eyes. He was a peasant boy. Didn't matter the hair color, or the appearance. He could look like he'd been kicked in the teeth by a mule, he couldn't care less. He simply needed to look human. Human...he was human...he was...his glow flickered but remained.

He shouted his frustration, kicking up a sheet of sand. Come on! He needed to do this, he could...he could. He crouched down, his head tucked under his arms. He'd done this millions of times before. It was so easy, just dampen the light.

Turn off your glow, you useless-

"Sol..."

He looked up, defeat written on his face.

"Here," the girl dropped to her knees and scooped up the sand between them. Rubbing it well in her dampened hands, she worked it through his hair. Once she had lathered the first fistfull, she reached down for another, then another. Each one did little more than highlight the brilliant strands of gold. After many attempts, she had finally gotten it to a place of a somewhat-faded blonde. Though his skin still gave off enough light to illuminate a small room.

Staring at his lantern-glow face, her lips skewed in deep thought. There was a moment of silence where the star shifted and coughed. Finally, after deeming it long enough for a verdict, he started to speak before Asha's sandy hands came around and slapped his cheeks. The boy's eyebrows raised at the sound.

"What are you doing now?"

"Making a disguise, but not a good one," she huffed, rocking back to sit on her heels, "maybe just..." she mimed pulling up his hood.

"Oh yeah!" he grinned, reaching back he drew up his cloak. Face partially obscured, he opened his arms, "How do I look?"

His silhouette was still lined with light, but she supposed that was the best they could do, "Better."

Haphazard camouflage in place, the two made the long trek back to the house, taking care in every footfall and whispered word. They ducked underneath open casements and snaked around corners as early-risers went about their morning tasks. Many a bleary-eyed person cast an errant glance their way, but fatigue did wonderful things to the vision. By the time the person rubbed their eyes, the two teens were safely out of sight.

Making a quick decision at one of the few crossroads, Asha pulled the star left and up the hill. Cresting the incline, in her speed, Asha crashed into someone. Sent sprawling back, the boy caught her before she fell.

Oh, she had done it now! Why hadn't she been paying attention? There was no way his disguise was good enou-

"Dahlia?!"

The baker was knocked on her bum. A basket was spilled next to her. Rolling to its side, an assortment of goods tumbled across the cobblestones. Rubbing the sore spot on her chin, she gaped, "Asha...and..." her eyes widened. Scrambling to her feet, she jabbed a finger at the cloaked figure, "You're the...you're the-"

The magician tackled her friend. Her hand smothering her, "Don't. Please don't say anything," she whimpered, "Promise?"

"Don't say what?"

Within the mess of limbs and rumpled skirts, both heads turned to see Simon leaning against his gate. A smirk plastered to his face as he observed the comical scene. Asha's veins iced over while the baker blushed. How much worse could their luck get?

The boy's eyes shifted, catching sight of the star, his expression changed, "Y-you-"

"That's it! Everyone in the root cellar, NOW!" the magician nearly vaulted over the gate, giving Simon a shove toward the small basement entrance.

"Woah, wait hold on a second! It's my house, I don't want-"

"Too bad!" the girl yanked open the trapdoor.

"But the basket-" the baker cried.

"Will be there later!" she reached behind her, grabbing Dahlia's arm and jerking her toward the hole.

"Woah, you brought another basket?"

"Yeah-"

The magician's hand pushed down on the choppy black hair, sending her friend into the depths below.

The wooden door closed like a cork over them. The small space would have been plunged into darkness, had it not been for Sol's luminescence. Trying to still her heart in the stale air, Asha's mind danced around all sorts of stories she could tell. Though she doubted any of them would be convincing enough...especially when the star was starting to take off his hood-

"Don't you dare touch that!" she shrieked.

The glowing boy froze. Eyes wide, his fingers released, and the fabric fell back into place.

"Asha, what do you think you're doing?!" the baker spoke up, "You're palling around with the intruder!"

"It's not what it.... wait...intruder?"

"You didn't hear? The king made an announcement this morning! He says that this one," she stuck her finger at him like it was a knife, "is the reason for everything. He's got a price on his head!"

The color drained from the magician's face. The two criminals looked at each other and gulped.

"Yeah," Simon spoke up, his stare never falling from the star, "King's granting the wish of whoever turns the enemy over."

"Oh..."

"Asha, don't you know how dangerous this is?! You need to get rid of him!" the baker squawked.

"Um," Sol's hand went up, "I'd like to remind everyone that I do exist and am not, in fact, a piece of furniture you all have to talk around."

"That you do. So, why did you bring us all this trouble, traitor?" the ginger boy sneered.

"To set the record straight, none of this was my fault..." he paused for a second, "...ok some of it, but none of the bad stuff."

"Sol, you're not helping," Asha muttered into her hand.

"Well, I should be able to speak for mysel-"

"Wait...Sol..." Dahlia's mouth dropped, "The...the distant cousin...it was you!"

"Buongiorno," the star mumbled.

"The whole time..."

"The Italian kid..." Simon gagged.

"You did this!" both friends jabbed accusatory fingers toward the girl and the star.

"Okay! Okay!" Asha jumped in the middle of the altercation, her arms waving, erratic, as they quieted the rumors "Can I get a word in?"

The baker watched her with wary eyes. Her companion started to open his mouth, but she thumped the back of her hand against his chest, quieting him.

"Thank you," the exhausted girl breathed. Running her fingers over her braids, she wasn't entirely sure where to start. Deciding the best way was to take the leap, she began, "First thing's first, the king doesn't actually grant wishes..."

The tale unspooled in that tiny ditch of a room. Sitting cross-legged and close, the girl told the story for the second time in as many days. Though, with a lighter touch on the more grotesque elements. By the star's incandescence, both of her friends were rapt. Their eyes clouded with skepticism but listening all the same. Hearing it all back in that quiet space, Asha was startled to realize that her rambling story sounded more like the musings of a lunatic rather than hard fact. She glanced over at Sol in midst of her talking. Her eyes widened, trying to communicate in the weird way he did. He ought to pick up a portion of this story. It sounded much less crazy when they were passing it between each other. But he simply gave her a thumbs up.

Great, and here I thought you would be perceptive. Where's all that freaky mind-reading stuff now?!

"....and...well...."

I'm going to overthrow the king.

She redacted that bit, her hands falling limp in her lap, "....I think that's everything."

"So, you did cheat...the whole time, I mean."

She cringed at Simon's accusation, "Yes..." she swallowed back her pride with difficulty, "...I guess in some far-removed way...you can say I...kinda...did..."

He nodded, "You cheated."

The magician leapt up, "Now lo-OW!" her head smacked against the low ceiling.

"Are you alright!" Sol's hand was against Asha's back as she cradled her head. She could feel it there, slowly burning through the fabric of her dress. Had his touch always been that warm? Because recently...

Her mind flashed to the compromised moment on the sandbar, and she blushed.

"Are you hurt?!"

Oh...she hadn't answered...how silly of her, "I-I'm fine," she managed. Settling back down on the packed earthen floor, she was met by two alarmed pairs of eyes, "Really...I'm fine..."

The alarm didn't fade.

"Anyway, I was trying to say it wasn't cheating all the way. I have learned a lot and actually had to practice and work hard-"

The ginger boy snorted. But before she could rebuff him, Dahlia cut in.

"I think what Simon is trying to say, is that you stacked the cards in your favor. You had an unfair advantage," her glasses flashed as she gestured toward the celestial guest, "that includes him."

Asha picked at the loose dirt beneath her, "I suppose."

The short girl glanced back, nodding toward the accusatory boy "Does that cover it?"

He sat there with his arms crossed before his head dropped into a firm nod.

"Good," Dahlia sighed. Fussing with her apron, her voice became sheepish, "So señor-"

"Sol's fine," the star shrugged.

"Sol then...well you're a star that grants wishes, huh?"

"Yes, I am," he leaned back against the wall, his arms behind his head, "And you want to make one, don't you?"

The baker blustered. Her hand flapping all over and laughing at the absurd idea. Though her cheeks were alarmingly red. The glowing boy waited for her defensive statements to fade before continuing, "Don't worry, it's a valid request."

"Sol..." Asha's voice floated by in warning. But the boy winked and pulled his attention back to Dahlia.

Blood...blood in the sand. She pressed her fist against her mouth and turned away.

The star cleared his throat, "So you're sweet on someone, huh?"

The girl gapped, "W-wha..h-h-how did you..."

The celestial being shrugged, "It's as apparent as the glasses on your face. Some wishes are like that."

Her brow furrowed, looking over to Asha for answers, the shocked baker only got a nervous smile.

"You get used it."

"Right then..." the baker swallowed, "...so what if that's my wish?" a brisk hand thrust her uneven bangs out of her face, "What would it take to grant it?"

Sol cringed, "See...in your case, that's where things start to get...complicated."

"Complicated," Simon smirked from the shadows.

"Yes," the star met his eyes, glinting in the gloom, "there's always rules."

"Like what?" Dahlia piped up.

Indeed...what? Asha thought. For all the time they'd spent together, she'd never bothered to ask.

"Well..." the boy kept eyeing the large figure watching from the corner, "...first thing is, you can't wish for more wishes. That would be cheating. You get one and that's it."

"Fair," the short girl nodded, "And?"

"And I can't raise the dead. Not that I'd want to..." he shuddered, "...but some things are final and that's one of them."

"That makes sense...but...not exactly what I was wishing for-"

"I was getting to that," his tongue ran over his teeth, "I also can't impose my will on others...you know 'influence' people. Make them angry, happy, and yes...fall in love."

"Oh..."

"But..." he placed a hand on her shoulder, "...even if I could, it would be a waste. Because why would I grant a wish that has already been fulfilled?"

The baker's eyes got big. Her head turned the smallest degree before she wrenched it back, her face even redder than before.

The star leaned forward, "Have confidence Dahlia. You have plenty, just find it."

"Well, I think it's a load of bull-"

"SIMON!" she stood in a swirl of flour and dirt, her diminutive height keeping her from clipping her head, "That's not very nice!"

"What am I supposed to say to that? He speaks like any fortune teller or troubadour, telling you what you want to hear! It's hogwash, all of it!"

Sol's head drifted to the side, "Hogwash?"

"You heard me!" the boy's hands crushed his knees, "The king said it himself, you're the reason for all the trouble!"

"The king who is enchanting people to keep them placated?" Asha leapt into the fray.

"Again, complete and utter bunk. Look..." his gaze was dangerous as it reflected back the star's light, "...you may have convinced Asha, it's not a challenge, she's incredibly gullible-"

"Hey!"

"-and," Simon plowed through the retort, "you may have swayed Dahlia. But there's no way you're going to talk me into anything. You're the intruder. The ports are closed because of you. People are starving because of you. My family is suffering because of you. These girls have fancy palace jobs, so they don't worry. I have nothing."

Anger seethed from the boy. Black and billowing, the star could see it poisoning the floor around him. Keeping his tone even, he started to get up, "Now Simon-"

"Don't you dare try to-"

"You want to be a knight, don't you?"

The deceitful tongue stilled.

"Yes," the glowing figure ducked under the beams, creeping toward the doubtful boy. His steps were unsteady, "that's your true wish, isn't it? You'd make a good one too. I can see it. You just...you..." standing over Simon, his legs buckled. Falling to the floor, coughs once again shook him. The stout boy looked on, a mixture of trepidation and impatience.

The magician ran to the sickly creature. Hovering over him, she asked in multitudes of different ways if he was alright. He tried to nudge her away, but she wouldn't leave. Swallowing back the mixture of bile and blood, the star righted himself. A shaking hand pressed against his forehead as he breathed long and slow.

"Is he unwell?" the baker's voice veered toward anxiety.

"No, right as rain," Sol's chuckled in a gravelly voice.

Asha looked at her friend and shook her head.

"It's not catching, is it?" Simon piped up, studying the shuddering immortal before him.

"No," the star growled, "I don't think you have to worry about that."

"He needs rest," the magician declared, helping him up, "I have to take him home."

"But everyone's up by now, you'll be seen!" Dahlia gulped.

"It's a risk we'll have to take."

"He can stay-"

"No!" the baker's pronouncement overshadowed Simon's, "I know a way."

****

Asha swore both friends to secrecy, though Sol wasn't entirely secure in their honesty. Not so much in Dahlia's case, she was earnest to a fault. It was that boy, Simon, that he couldn't shake. The look he had in that dim space was enough to freeze blood. Those eyes that loomed wet in the gloom, they had been searching for eighteen years. Eighteen years of wanting, pleading, wishing. Eighteen very long years that had turned desire to desperation. The star swallowed; Polaris had called Asha combustible...well....

He rubbed his eyes. Sitting up on his deteriorating mattress, he stared at the lid above. After they had been ferried through one of Dahlia's secret passages, the magician had all but dragged him through the remaining stretch of forest. Not having enough energy to fly up to the window, Sol had to scramble his way up the ivy and along the thatch roof. All the while, the girl was inside, hurriedly explaining away the cacophony as a bunch of squirrels, or possums, or something else...the star was too busy finding footholds to listen.

He then fell through the window in the most ungentlemanly fashion. His chin the first to make contact with the floor, it was one of the few times he was thankful that he couldn't feel. But, alas, he had no time to savor this revelation, fore his nausea was quick to follow. Unleasing a long, strangled, groan, he rolled to his back in time to watch the door fly open. In the hushed crinkle of skirts, Asha's boots approached. He grinned at their muddied soles, "Success."

"What are you doing?"

"Recovering."

"Um, not there!" she grabbed both of his wrists and pulled. Blinking, the boy watched as the room moved backwards. His stomach didn't follow.

"Asha...please...I think I'm going to be sick."

"Well," she gave one last heave before dropping his arms. There was the snapping of clasps, then the chest creaked, "Be sick in here!"

"A..sha..."

"I said you needed rest and you're gonna get it!" if she wasn't so concerned about keeping her voice down, Sol was sure she'd be yelling. His head drifted back and met her intense expression.

"Boy, don't you sound like Polaris?" he chuckled.

She reached down, grasping the back of his cloak with both hands, she struggled with his weight, "Get...in!"

She managed to lift him by a few inches before the boy surrendered and climbed in himself. Once his feet touched the bottom, the lid slammed shut. Testing it a few times throughout the day, he had found that Asha was sitting on it, waiting. Diligent in her task, his handful of escape attempts were swiftly thwarted by a sharp word and a firm shove.

So, there he sat in his little world, forced to behold his continued decline. It's unwelcome evidence hanging upon every wall and lingering in each corner. His window had been the first to disappear. Thinking back, that ought to have been his warning. Now he was forced to view his quarters by flickering candlelight, and his own, inconsistent, glow. And that pitiful illumination revealed crumbling walls, deteriorating maps, and new seams carved into the stucco that pulled the illusion taunt. A second lick of flame showed bits of torn paper and moldy parchment. There lay the residue of his library, now only appreciated by mushrooms and moss. Another leap caught upon shattered glass and bits of sawdust, it was all that persisted from his miniature wonders. Tangible items from past exploits, now left to rot like everything else did. Like he would.....was. Picking at a hole in the dry-rotted mattress, he whistled an idle tune amidst his pathetic surroundings. He really was bad off, wasn't he?

His insides did a jig.

He thrust his fist against his mouth, willing his thoughts to wander and deliver him from the returning queasiness.

And it worked.... somewhat. With wandering thoughts came the desires of others. The silent begging that rode each whisper of breeze, bolted through narrow alleys, imbued the very stones the city was built upon. There was so much pain. Too much. And he couldn't do anything about it. Not as he was now. Not anymore.

He punched the bed, and dust motes jumped.

He needed space. He needed out. He felt caged, closed in. Who cared if Asha was still sitting on the trunk? He would push her off! His fingers brushed the worn underside. Breathing in, he lifted the top.

It came away without trouble.

Smothering his victorious laugh, he pulled himself up. But when he slid over the top, he was met by a curious sight.

Asha was asleep. Stretched across her bed, she lay upon her stomach, with one arm carelessly slung over the side and the other resting half-open against the rumpled quilt. The curtains had been left open, allowing sunlight to splash across her slumbering form. He was surprised she could sleep in such a state, though he guessed she was exhausted. Their journey had been long, and he, clumsy. Rubbing his chin, his fingers ran over his lips...clumsy in more ways than one.

She sighed and turned over; her face now highlighted in the yellow rays. The star's breath caught. He watched her chest rise and fall. Her expression, so pinched and worried during the day, was now serene. Her jaw moved. Ah, so she ground her teeth in her sleep, huh? Finding himself moving closer, he knelt at her bedside, and laid his head upon the mattress. Watching, he was hypnotized by the minute twitches of unseen dreams. Lips that pursed then softened, eyelashes that flinched then fluttered, eyebrows that wrinkled then fell. Inches from her, he was whole.

"Oh Asha..." he breathed, envying the sun that kissed her, "...I wish..."

Valentino stirred at his words. The little goat letting out a grumble before re-adjusting himself to curl up closer to the sleeping magician.

Pulling himself from his fantasy, the star rose to the sound of a creak. His head turning to the window...a shadow passed there.

An alarmed grunt and he dropped to the floor. He was calculating whether he could squeeze himself between the mess underneath the girl's bed, when a round face pressed against the glass.

The visitor didn't have to search for long before his eyes locked on Sol's glowing form. Pushing himself up, the boy crossed the room in three bounds. He popped the latch with care, the casement opening without so much as a whine. Sticking his head out, his voice was a hurried whisper.

"Simon?"

"I need to speak with you," he answered, fierce and abrupt.

The star winced at the volume, "Alright, alright..." stepping up on the small desk, he slid into the sunlight beyond, "...but please to try to be quiet, Asha's asleep."

A smirk, "Sure."

Sol's lips thinned as the pane closed with a light tick. The two followed the curve of the wall for a few steps, before they were out of earshot of the window. Settling in the thatch, the star invited Simon to speak with a nod.

"It's about what you were saying earlier...about me being a knight. Did you mean it?"

"Sure I did."

The ginger boy swallowed, blinking fast, "Truly? No tricks? No lies?"

"None," the star shook his head. Was this really what this fisherman's son had come all this way for? Moral support? "I mean, with a fair amount of hard work and purser-"

"So, you'll grant my wish then!"

Oh, of course that was it. That always was it, wasn't it? His insides tightened, his hand fisted over his stomach, "...Simon..."

"If there's a price, I'm good for it. I may not have it up front, but if you make me a knight...a good one...I'll be able to pay you back in no time!"

His head fell back against the stucco, "Simon..."

"That is, if you're the real thing...you are, aren't you?"

Sol's eyebrows drew together, "Earlier, everything I said was hogwash."

"Er...well, I..." air whistled through his nose, "...I've been thinking is all. And...being that my wish didn't go against any of your rules...I thought maybe I may have a chance..."

The star pinched his brow, "I see."

"So, you can do it?"

The bags shown thick underneath Sol's eyes as his glow guttered like a dying candle, "No."

"Excuse me?"

"I said no, Simon," the answer was firm.

An awkward laugh filled the empty air, "So, what was that whole mess about you saying how great a knight I'd be?"

"You didn't let me finish. With practice and perseverance, you'll get there. You have it in you Simon."

The boy scowled, "Oh really? Then where?" he threw his thick arms wide, "Show me where I have it? Because I couldn't tell you!"

"It's in here," Sol stuck his thumb at the bottom of his chest, "Your drive, your desire. If you can harness them, then you could really-"

"Ah, I see. You only grant wishes for girls you fancy."

Blustering, the star tried to grab the reigns of the conversation back, "I don't-"

"Spare me," Simon hissed, "I may look simple, but even I can tell how you follow her around like a puppy."

Biting his tongue to keep from digging the hole further, that star growled, "I help people Simon, that's what I do. I grant the wishes I can and encourage people to find it within themselves when I can't. I can't do anything if a wish has already been granted!"

"Since when has my wish been granted? Do you see armor on me?"

"You're not listening!"

"You're mistaken, I'm hearing fine."

"Even if I could, I can only take you halfway there. To really be great you'd-"

"Excuses, excuses... always excuses," the ginger boy mused, "You and Asha really are perfect for each other."

"Simon...please..."

"No," the boy stood, glaring down at the star, "I've only ever wanted one thing my whole life, and here you are. Spitting in my face."

"Spitting in your..." Sol's nostrils flared. He reached down, snatching up a fistful of thatch, he held it high over his head. It shimmered in his grasp. Flashing brilliant in the sun, a blade emerged from his shaking fingers, "Then...then this..." his breathing ragged, "...this would...make you.... happy..." throwing the sword down at the other boy's feet, the star leaned over the awning and started retching.

Go ahead and take everything then.

Simon stared down at the shining weapon, his face screwing up, he kicked it where it tumbled over the edge. The silver blade spun for a few seconds, before hitting the ground and exploding into stardust, "Too little, too late."

The star glared at the boy, still breathing heavy against sickness.

"You know, I want the king's favor too," he continued, "I want to be able to provide for my family. Feed them, clothe them, care for them, as Asha does hers. It would sure be nice if we could afford full bellies and sturdy walls but..." his eyes glittered wet, "...I suppose even that is a fantasy," the boy stood up then, moving to dust off his clothes before his hand fell short. He edged his way to the end of the roof before Sol grasped his ankle.

"Wait-"

"Don't worry," the other boy snarled, wrenching himself away, "I'll keep your little secret."

"Sim-"

But the boy was gone. Shimmying down the side of the house, ginger hair quickly faded into the woods beyond. Soon, Simon's anguish was eclipsed by the desperate pleas of the surrounding city. Endless howling that never ceased. It was Sol's constant companion, taunting, tormenting. The star righted himself with much effort. Tracing his way back to Asha's window, he felt so very sick, so very tired, and so very, very worried.

Chapter Text

"There are entry ways, here," the stick pointed to a pebble, "here," it pointed to a broken spindle, "and here," a bit of ribbon. Asha circled the model of the castle, which was two books propped against each other to make a triangle, "So if we go this way," the twig scraped along the floorboards to the right, "that would bring us by the guardhouse," her eyes flicked to the boy across from her, "which would obviously be too dangerous."

"Obviously."

"So," the spindle was picked up and tossed behind her, "we could go this way," the stick continued its circle around the makeshift palace, "and that would put us under the castle. We'd have to find a way to get through the dungeon without being seen. Being that it's usually crawling with guards," the girl flicked the ribbon away, "I'm giving that one a hard 'no.'"

Sol leaned over the scene. Propping his head in his hand, he squinted at the conglomeration before him.

"With that said, that leaves only one option," she gulped, tapping the pebble which marked the main entrance.

"Well, that's bold...and a bit stupid. Carry on."

"I am the king's apprentice after all, I should be able to request an audience with him."

"Didn't he discontinue your training until further notice?"

Asha looked away. Crossing her arms, the unguarded stick hung low over her elbow. Valentino looked over, suddenly very interested.

How quickly things had changed. The edict issued by the frustrated king, spread faster than the plague. Raiding parties infected the narrow streets of the once peaceful city. Their search was so ferocious, the girl was sure they'd turned over every stone. But still she heard the sound of broken glass and cursing into the next day. It went on at all hours. Whenever one party rested, another took up the mantle. When they couldn't find the intruder, they pilfered the broken places they created. Some of the nastier kinds burned what they couldn't take, others were decent enough to simply leave behind a mess. Those who weren't agents to the madness, cleaned up what was left behind. Though there weren't many of them. Starvation had driven most to drastic measures. Her door was yet to be disturbed, but she knew it was only a matter of time.

"Do you have a better idea?"

"No," he smothered a cough, "but I have one that will work."

The girl harrumphed.

The star held out his hand, "I'll show you."

She pursed her lips, handing over the twig before the little goat could chop down. His eyes followed where it landed in the boy's palm. He resumed his mission.

"You Asha," he pointed at her, "will take me to the king," the stick bumped the pebble, scooting it between the leaning books, "as a show of utmost dedication and loyalty. Then when the moment is right, you'll find a window and," using the pointer as an arrow he mimed drawing it back, whistling to indicate flight, "Bam! The sun goes dark."

Face drawn, she retrieved the pebble and set it back in its original position, "I don't like that plan."

"Well, it's the most realistic."

"What about Dahlia's tunnels?"

"We don't know how many of them are intact. Unless you want to include her in our little plot," his voice was challenging, but he knew what the girl's answer was going to be.

"No..." Asha tugged on the braid slung over her shoulder.

"Ah ha! So my plan is the best!" he threw down the stick in victory. The goat raced for it.

"Wait! What if we..." the magician grabbed it. Valentino tried to stop, but only succeeded in plowing straight through the eclectic model. The castle collapsed, and the rustic town around it was scattered across the floor.

"Valentino!" she fought to keep her whisper.

The goat bleated, scampering off with a page stuck to his hoof. She flung the stick after him. Missing, it hit the wall and snapped in two. Her head fell into her hands, "I didn't realize it was going to be this hard."

"Oh, these regime changes normally are," the star mused, "Kind of funny how you told me not to start a coup and now you..."

The look the girl gave him was enough to melt flesh from bone.

"...never mind."

"We'll have to figure something else out," she mumbled.

"What do you have against the idea?"

"It would be like serving you up on a silver platter!"

The star shrugged, "I've played bait before, I'm pretty good at it."

"That's not the point! You..." she gestured to him. He'd lost even more weight, how waifish he was! She could see his cheekbones hollowing, his eyes sinking back. And his flickering was only getting worse! She fought to keep the quivering from her voice, "...you're sick."

"Thanks for telling me, I didn't know," his voice took on an edge.

"Have some sense! You can't just put yourself in situations-"

"I may be sick, but I can still take care of myself!" he snapped.

"You can't even fly anymore!"

"So what?"

"I don't want you to get hurt, alright?" the confession was snarled.

The star went pale. No, this wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to worry about her. She was the fragile one, the human with less than a century to live. He'd been around plenty. He had endured, and could endure, worse. She could be done in by a bad flu, "That's not something for you to worry about."

The girl jumped to her feet, "How dare you!" her fists trembled, "How dare you tell me not to worry! Not after all your hen pecking! Everything went upside down the moment you showed up! You shoved yourself into my life! So, if I happen to care about you, that's my right!"

"Excuse me, I distinctly remember you asking me to come," he stood, his height competing with hers, "Unless you make a habit out of getting stuck in hurricanes."

"Oh no, no, no!" she jabbed her finger at him, "you decided to come home with me. We could have parted ways right then and there! Isn't that 'just how things are?'"

"And leave you to level this entire city, I don't think so!"

"Excuses, excuses!" the girl laughed back.

The star's jaw tightened.

"Like it or not, we're stuck together, amigo. We're ending this...together," she got close, uncomfortably so. Daring, she rose to her toes. Staring him in the eye, they were barely an inch apart, "And that does not mean using you as bait! Comprende?"

"Then what would you suggest?" his voice was hoarse.

"The original plan. I ask for an audience with the king and you lay low until the other stars show up."

"And leave you at the mercy of the king and his crazy wife?"

"They don't want me, they want you! Besides, I've been to the palace dozens of times. They trust me."

Breathing fast, the star took a step back. Making space so he could think. He ran his hand through his hair, holding back his reservations he huffed, "Fine then. What happens after you miraculously fool the royal family and take down the sun?"

The heels of her boots clapped against the floor. Her hands kneaded together, "Uh...well, the queen gets taken away. The king is dealt with in whichever way the stars see fit. I fulfill the role as ruler and..." her voice became meek, "...and I was thinking you might be my adviser."

He balked, "W-what-"

"You know!" she spoke over his objection, "Like 'Royal Wish Maker," or something," she paused to glare at him, "And don't make fun of the name, I haven't put that much thought into it yet!"

Sol stood there with his mouth open. No, please...

"The people of Rosas are used to their wishes. It'd be a nice change to have real ones. Maybe we can even make the bad ones right. We'll have the book after all!"

Please don't give me a reason to stay!

"Now, I know you're sick. But surely, it's not impossible to get better. The queen has thrived here for centuries. I mean, if the issue is stardust then-"

"-And live like a fugitive?" He interrupted.

Her hands were on her hips, "I'm sure we'll be able to negotiate something. You'll be making things right with your brother after all! What's the crime in staying behind when you'll be allowed to go wherever you want? I thought you didn't like it up there?"

"...I don't..."

"It's settled, then," the girl chirped, "You'll be the resident star and I-"

"No."

I can't break another promise.

"Why?"

"It's just not how things are done!"

"Oh, I see. It's just the way of things," her tone was low.

"Yes."

"It's always, 'just the way of things!'"

"Hey, it's not something I like either!"

"Well hang it all, then! Break the rules! You've done a fair amount of bending already, according to your brother!"

"Asha, I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"Can't!"

"You're lying!"

"I wouldn't lie to you!"

"Oh, so I'm special, am I?"

His answer dissolved on his tongue. Foolish coward he was! A lovesick idiot who couldn't bear to look away. Horrible, disgusting, excuse for a star! Here he was starting little fires everywhere. The town, the king, Asha... Everything happening was his fault. He had one job and he had failed. How dare he fall in love! And how dare he let that love infest someone else! He was supposed to be able to lift out of her life without any trouble. He was supposed to be the only one with regret. His eyes squeezed tight. This time was supposed to be different.

But alas, here you are, with another mess.

"No," the lie dripped from his lips, "I guess you're not special."

Asha's confidence wavered, her tone drifting toward sarcastic, "What, I'm just some other girl to you? Like Cleopatra...like Boudica?"

Don't be selfish, let her go.

"I suppose you are."

"But..." her hand reached toward her lips, eyes darting.

The star's hands clenched, "What, you think you're special because I almost kissed you?"

I'm sorry.

"I-"

"Be real, Asha," he stuck his thumbs in his pockets, a wide smile forced upon his lips, "don't you think a star as handsome as me has had thousands of kisses before yours?" he bared his teeth against his silent rebuttals, "Even better ones?"

"You!" the girl's hand raised, ready to slap him. He was prepared for it. Wanting it, wishing it would cause pain. A miserable thing like himself deserved that. But her strike withered and fell at her side. Turning her head away, he could see her eyes rimmed with red before her hair hid her face.

"Fine then," a slow voice muttered before she ran and slammed the door behind her.

He wanted to die.

His false bravado dissipating, he dropped to the ground. Sitting there his fist rose to beat against the floor, but he pulled his punch with a suffocated roar. He had to be quiet. Even if he wanted to scream, to swear, to smash everything in sight; he still had to be secretive. His avenging fingers found his hair. Pulling and tearing it was nothing but a distant tug, but it was something.

First Simon and now Asha. Oh, how wonderful he was in conflict. Of course he hadn't told her about Simon yet. He hadn't wanted to burden her, distress her, "That went well," he hissed to himself. The boy could be talking to the king right now! Whispering the name of the apprentice that betrayed him. Scores of knights would descend upon that little house in the woods. And what would happen to the poor magician who got caught up in something much bigger than a simple wish?

"You fool. You horrid, irredeemable-"

Valentino's snout slipped between his grasping hands and bumped against his nose. The star looked up, face to face with his tiny nemesis. Though this time he wasn't trying to gnaw off a limb. The little goat sat back, a quick bleat cutting through the boy's self-loathing.

"Look Valentino, I'm not in the mood for one of your temper tantrums right now. I-"

The goat stood and pushed his head against Sol's chest. He stayed there, unmoving. A golden hand rose and stroked his small back. The star supposed the goat liked it because the little animal proceeded to lay next to him, grumbling as the luminescent fingers brushed his fur over and over. Watching the goat drift off the sleep, the boy's internal battle ceased.

It was for the best. He had to leave at the end of this and it would be cruel to have Asha miss him. Best to keep things friendly but platonic. He would smooth everything out. He would apologize for his rudeness, but reaffirm the lie in a gentler fashion. He would disclose his conversation with Simon and stress that they expedite the plan. All would be neat and tidy, but it would be done tomorrow. They both needed air until then.

Unbeknownst to him, Asha leaned against the other side of the door. Her head buried in her arms, she tried to find a reason to stop feeling the way she did.

****

"This here is the intruder, your majesty!" the bearded man cackled, giving the "star" a harsh shove. The celestial being stumbled forward, shooting its captor a deadly glare.

The king looked on with distaste, "If you mean to fool me with a man coated in glue and metal shavings, at least pick a better actor," he flicked his hand and the guards started to move in, "not your wife in a wig."

"I am a real star! I am!" the woman forgot to deepen her voice at first. The monarch rolled his eyes. The couple fought and argued as the knights yanked them from the room. The ratty wig tumbled off the fake star's head, revealing a cascade of raven hair. The woman spat and gnashed her teeth, but with a firm metal boot, her face was shoved beyond the threshold and the door closed.

Magnifico massaged his temples to the light chuckles of his wife, resplendent on her own throne.

"Well, at least they were entertaining!"

"Two days and this is what we have to show for it?"

"Well cariño, you don't have the most educated lot filling the ranks of your little 'search parties.'"

The king grumbled into his hand, looking away from her sardonic grin. Surely something would have turned up by now? The wishes had ceased as of late. The air had been oddly clear and fresh. His skin rankled, something didn't feel right about it all. It couldn't be that the intruder had left, could it? He dared to hope for a second, before doubt drowned out the idle thought.

"Yes, but he's weak," his eyes narrowed as they drifted over to the drawn curtains. Beyond that thick fabric, the city was being pulled apart, "and I doubt he'd be able to evade us much longer."

"Ah, there's the positive attitude that I've been missing, mi amore," she purred, her fingers stroking his arm, "Soon it will be just us again. No more fear."

His attention drifted back to his queen. How lovely she was with her soft features and rosy lips. He couldn't recall his time before her. Sometimes shadows jumped in at corners of his mind, or a formless nightmare would attack him in the night. But for all he knew, his life started with her, and he was perfectly happy with that. Afterall, he'd banished the last memento of a time before stardust, left it to rust away in the shadows, and it had all felt so right. With a smile, his lips met hers and they gave into their wants.

Breaking apart for but a moment to breathe, he whispered, "No more fear."

She touched his cheek, "My champion."

Things were simpler with only the two of them. The queen had been pleased when her husband had suspended that apprentice of his. Terrible little girl, she was too inquisitive for her liking. And she had an eager tongue. If Amaya had any say in the matter, she'd have had that dissident organ cut out.

Besides the eradication of the temperamental child, the castle had been consolidated. By royal decree, there was to be less of everything. Less staff, less rooms, less guards, less loose ends. Thanks to her husband's earlier actions, most of the lower workers had been dismissed weeks ago. Their army of maids had been purged, save for a trusted three, while their armory supplied enough soldiers to reliably defend them in case of attack, but not enough to stage a rebellion. Unneeded wings were blocked off, safe from enemy attack. Soon their very throne room would be dealt with in much the same way. There were too many windows...too many opportunities for retaliatory actions from an angry populace. Once they found their star, there would be nothing else to distract them from their ire. When that happened, their fortress would be impregnable.

The couple leaned in again, when someone cleared their throat. Both turned, looking down with irritation at the guard who'd dared disturb them. The man's eyes flicked between the two, temporarily mute.

"Get on with it!" Magnifico snapped. The knight jumped at the harsh tone.

"Your Majesties!" he bowed, proclaiming the rest to the floor "There is a boy who claims to have information on the intruder."

"Another?" the queen's lips twitched, "My, they crawl out of every crack!"

The king settled back in his chair, nodding his acceptance. The heavy door squealed as it was pulled. He winced, he did need to get with the palace blacksmith on that. Once open, there was nothing but an empty hallway.

Magnifico cleared his throat.

A shadow wobbled out of sight.

"Speak now, or leave! You waste our time, otherwise."

A sudden stumble, and the shadow came into view.

"Well, I suppose they don't always fit through cracks do they?" his wife's snide comment brushed his ear. He kept his lips tensed against the laugh. Yes, the boy certainly wouldn't fit through any crack. Quite tall and large, had his size been more attributed to muscle, he would be a serviceable knight. He leaned against the arm of his chair, stroking his beard.

The boy waddled forward, his hands swinging every which way, unsure where to land. A tongue wet nervous lips as he stopped right in front of the elevated thrones. Dropping into a deep bow, his ginger hair was on full display. The king's memory lit across that detail.

"So you were able to find the star after all," his eyes narrowed, "or so you say."

"I was," the boy's voice squeaked.

"Hmmm," the monarch sneered, "yet you bring no one with you? Am I to go off of your word alone?"

"N-no, your majesty!" the peasant's voice became stronger, "If I may," a trembling hand reached into his pocket. Drawing out a mysterious substance, he held it up to the doubtful king, "evidence."

The royals watched as the golden dust leaked through his thick fingers. Neither reaching to accept it. The boy started to sweat. He had come all this way, he couldn't fail now. Not when he could taste his wish. If he could just get the king to realize what he had, then he'd be able to wager. He'd be a knight. It was what he'd trained for as a child, and what he'd been denied by his illness. He'd be spectacular, maybe even famous. He knew that if he wore the royal seal, all would be right. His family would be fed, the barn would be rebuilt, and he would be worthy of Dahlia. Fore who would deign to fall in love with a bloated and scarred thing like him without it? The dream giving him strength, he stood, shoving his hand right underneath the king's nose.

"Stardust, your majesty!"

The guards by the door started to creep toward the boy, but Magnifico paused their approach. Looking down at the offering, he snorted, "Unless you're unaware, we have plenty of that here, already."

"Aw, did you steal that from a magician, niño?" the queen tittered, her eyes dancing with amusement.

Simon's teeth clenched, "It's from the star. He summoned a sword from thin air, your majesty. This is what's left!"

"I'm afraid you'll have to do better than that. We can't go chasing after every little story, you know," the king clapped, the guards advanced again. The boy looked behind him, fear lacing his veins with poison. Wait, he was telling the truth! They didn't understand. They needed to understand! He needed this! His arm was moving before he realized. Watching it wind back before his eyes, he turned to the king, screaming, "Listen to me!"

The dust flew from his hand, falling over the royal couple in a glittering cloud. The knights rushed forward then. Jumping on the boy, they tackled him to the floor. His arms were wrenched behind his back and there was a sword at his throat. But his head craned to see the monarch, flocked in gold.

The man's hands shook, turning them over and back to watch how the stardust shined. The queen let out a startled gasp, her hands flew to her mouth. She knew as he did. Sizzling against his skin, he threw it from himself. He shook it from his clothes, his hair, spat out the particles from his mouth. It was pure, clear of the sand used to weigh down the supply allotted to the populace. There were only two places that this groveling creature could have gotten his hands on it. With a desperate hunger, the monarch leapt from his throne.

"RELEASE HIM!"

The guards glanced at each other, but when the order was barked again, they retreated with haste. Simon picked himself up, holding his breath as the king leered at him from the dais.

"Where is he?" the king breathed fire.

"My wish first!"

"You test my patience! Where. Is. He?"

The boy struck a firm pose, "My. Wish. First."

Magnifico's face contorted into something horrid. Veins pulsated in his neck as he strangled his rage. Amaya watched like a cat from the dim, the nearby sconce making her eyes glow.

"Very well," the king spat, "Come with me."

He took the greedy thing to the small alcove behind the thrones. Making the boy turn around, the monarch dissolved the mural with his usual incantations. Once allowed to enter, Simon's mouth was agape. His eyes eager as they roved the spectacular room. The brilliance of stardust staining everything it touched. He was so enthralled, that he didn't see the king summon the ledger, nor did he notice the small trunk that slid from the gathering shadows.

"Now-"

The boy startled, the king appeared before him like an apparition. Nimble fingers flicked through the green register, pages going by in a blur before stopping near the end. The man's tongue clicked as he found what he'd been looking for.

"I thought so," he chuckled, tapping the entry, "you looked the right age. It says here when you turned eighteen you wished to be a knight," icy eyes looked straight through Simon, "are my records up to date?"

"Y-Yes."

"Good," the ledger was tucked under his arm. With a snap the trunk popped open. A book flew out. Plain and without a title, it floated over to the boy. Unfolding, parchment whispered as text whipped by. The boy tried to peek at the disappearing characters, but they went by too fast. In a puff of dust and cobwebs, the mysterious tome stopped on some nondescript page.

"I think that's a fair trade."

The boy's eyes narrowed, "But...your maj-"

"You do want to be a knight, don't you?"

Swallowing, the ginger head nodded. He felt sweat trickle down his neck, skating between the raised hairs it encountered. Why now, did he feel so uneasy?

"Wonderful, but-" Magnifico's hand reached out, pulling the book away, "-tell me where the star is first."

His mouth was dry, "Wait-"

"This is your only chance, boy. There will be no others! Tell me, or be a pathetic wastrel for the rest of your life!"

With a shuddering breath, the name was muttered.

The king laughed.

Chapter Text

"Habibti!"

Asha rolled over. Candlelight was in her face. Eyes lidded, her hand went up to block the flame. What time was it? Her head felt heavy as she looked to the window. According to the rays that slid underneath the curtains, she guessed it was sometime past midnight. Her mouth filled with cotton, she rasped, "Yemma, what's going on?"

She couldn't make out her mother's expression, fore she was a silhouette beyond the candle's glow. But she could see the woman's quick movements, her constantly shifting weight. Why, she looked distressed!

Baba!

The girl threw off her quilt before Sakina's excited voice stopped her, "Oh Asha!" she could hear the smile in her words, "Something wonderful has happened. Come see, come see!" she felt her mother's warm hand wrap around hers, yanking her from bed.

Her stomach twisted.

Then she was pulled toward the door. All the way the familiar voice exclaiming about how ecstatic she was about...something. Halfway across her room, the girl twisted from her mother's hold. The figure stopped. Turning, the candle flickered, catching the side of her face. A face that was happy, exuberant even. Yes, it was her mother. But why had her hands felt so...

The girl's fingers brushed together, trying to recapture the odd feeling.

"Habibti?"

"Oh!" she was shocked from her reverie, "I-I'm right behind you Yemma. I just have to get something."

The woman's face didn't change, "Very well, but hurry!" Sakina swept from the room, taking the light with her.

As Asha's eyes adjusted, they drifted to the trunk. Her heart constricted. Shaking her head, she called herself silly. What was it but some girlish crush? There would be plenty of boys, more human and far more rational...respectable...and...

The vise tightened.

Letting out a frustrated sigh she started toward the door before her knotted stomach made her stop again.

Staring at the sliver of hallway visible to her, her breath quickened. Something was wrong. But why? All was silent within the house. The only sound came from the unending altercations in the city below. Her mother was in a wonderful mood, and her grandfather had not taken a turn like she'd initially feared. So why did her feet refuse to move?

Her fingers rubbed together once more.

Breathing out, she dropped to her knees. Reaching beneath her bed, she retrieved book after weighty book. Struggling back to her feet, she arranged them along the top of the chest. Her movements spidery and quick, some sat upright while others toppled over or leaned against the other. The haphazard collection was passable in the dim room.

It would have to be.

She whispered her apology before pivoting to the desk. Her fingers wrapped around the bottle of stardust. Holding it up to the thin light, the smattering that clinked against the bottom was pitiful, but she hoped it was enough. That was all she needed. Enough.

She may have been over-reacting, but as she poured the remaining dust down her sleeves, her heart slowed a bit. There was a solidity to the gentle fizzing, a warmth that bolstered her bravery. Even if she'd imagined it - the new firmness of the ground, the control of her muscles, the smoothing of her breaths - surely it was better to be prepared....right?

With a gulp, she left the room.

The hallway beyond was quiet as always. The same wood planks creaked in their usual pattern. The same shadows decorated the ceiling. The same knots and bumps guided her hand over the walls toward the stairwell, where she grasped the same railing. So familiar, it should have been comforting. But as she descended toward the main room, she couldn't help but notice how dark it was there.

"Yem-"

Someone grabbed her from the gloom. Her scream was smothered by a sweaty hand. Struggling, her teeth bit down on thick fingers. There was a grunt, but the captor was immovable. She thrust herself this way and that, all the while her mind was spinning. Where was her mother? Where was her grandfather? Had they been captured too? Had the thieves finally come for them, like they'd done to countless before? She had to escape, they couldn't have her house, they couldn't have her family, and they certainly couldn't have Sol. She tried to shake the stardust from her sleeves, but the ruffian only pinned her arms higher up her back. Tears stung her eyes.

"Ah señorita," a familiar voice spoke up from the corner of the room, "So nice to see that you're well. I was starting to worry."

Asha stopped breathing.

The owner of the voice chuckled, and she heard a snap. The curtains whipped away, flooding the room with sunlight and bringing the dire situation into reality.

Across from her stood her grandfather. Legs wobbling from their time left standing, his head was upturned and strong despite the blade pressed against his jaw. In between him and where she was trapped, there were guards. So many, they pressed together, shoulder-to-shoulder. Flashing silver and cobalt blue, the refracted sunlight marred the walls. Though that was the least of the damage. All around her was broken furniture, turned out drawers, lifted planks. Torn bits of fabric still floated in the air. Her mother's spinning wheel smashed to pieces. Her grandfather's books with their broken spines and scattered pages. The table her father helped build, split by an axe and still being pulled apart before her. And alongside all this destruction, her mother wandered the outskirts, humming to herself. Dancing with an invisible partner, her eyes were marbles reflecting back a different world.

The girl felt the inferno lick at her heels, traveling up her legs, then her spine. How dare they...how dare he...

Magnifico looked on, his expression amused. All very casual in the chair he'd pulled aside for himself, "Imagine, my very own apprentice hiding such a secret!" he leaned forward, his elbows braced against his knees, "Now, tell me where he is."

She told him in no uncertain terms where he could go and what he could do, but her words were indistinguishable behind the hand.

The king sighed, tutting, "Let her speak, Simon."

Ice slid down her spine. The hand removed; her head turned slow. She caught his bland expression out of the corner of her eye. Dressed and pressed in the royal colors, the only armor he had was a bit of chainmail draped over his shoulders. Distant eyes looked back at her, disinterested and dull, "No..." she whimpered.

"Your king has asked you a question!" Magnifico's voice scraped against her ears, "Where is he?"

"I have already told you! I don't know what you're talking about!" Sabino piped up, the blade cutting a thin line against his cheek, "There has never been, nor will there ever be, a star on this premises!"

"I already know the tale you tell, old man." The king sneered.

"I must agree with my grandfather, your majesty!" Asha's voice shook, but as her eyes met Sabino's, it started to gain strength, "First time I remember even hearing about it was when you told me." A grin pulled apart her trembling lips, "Information being 'sacred' as you say."

The monarch paused. Looking between grandfather and granddaughter he let out a low laugh, "A family of storytellers. Well then," he pulled out two familiar scrolls, "I shall communicate with you in the way you prefer," he cleared his throat for effect, "Once upon a time there were..." the scrolls unfurled, rolling over his legs and racing along the floor. Spilling from the parchment was the night sky. One that Asha knew well, "...stars," the king hissed.

Dumbstruck, the girl stared at where the scroll terminated, inches from her feet.

"These were found in your grandfather's quarters, Asha. I'd love to hear your explanation."

"They were a gift..." the girl started.

"They are mine!" Sabino drowned out the magician's answer.

"How so, old man?" the monarch jeered.

"Tis only a hobby, your majesty. Kept it up from my sailing days."

"And yet the 'hobby' breaks the law."

"I know no such law," the older man's voice was cutting.

Magnifico snorted. Tossing the ends, the scrolls fell to the floor, erupting in flame. The careful months of etching, detailing, fixing, worrying, all for naught. The parchment curled in the fire, reducing down to charcoal before the girl's eyes. She had to choke back a frustrated cry, all the while feeling the hold on her arms getting tighter and tighter.

Simon....why?!

"The law, if you are so interested, concerns the communication with, and harboring of, stars. I do believe that I make it explicitly clear that no celestial bodies shall be engaged by any resident of Rosas. You may sail by their light, but you give that up the minute you reach shore. That includes your little 'hobby.'"

"I shouldn't know, I sailed from the continent."

"Ah, am I to believe that you're pleading ignorance?"

"Whatever you desire, your majesty," the response was cold.

"Foolish man," the king scoffed. Giving a brisk nod to the nearest knight, an iron hand was driven into the grandfather's gut. Asha screamed as Sabino's legs gave way. Wheezing, his eyelids fluttered, fighting to stay conscious. Magnifico had risen from his chair, towering over the feeble man, "You know where he is! Tell me!"

"I know no such star," the thin voice heaved.

"You-"

"STOP!" the girl cried. Her grandfather looked over at her, in between his pitiful gasps, his expression was one of warning, "The maps weren't his. You harm an innocent man!"

"Innocent?" the king turned to regard his apprentice, "My, that is a loaded word. Well then, Asha, if the maps aren't his, then how did he get them?"

"He-"

"She speaks lies your majesty!" Sabino's voice struggled against the pain, "She wishes to spare me from punishment, which I rightly deserve."

"Baba-"

"Mijita!" the old man's expression was fierce, "Don't you dare dishonor me with another lie. I face my fate readily," he regarded the king with a grimace, "If the king sees it in his wisdom to punish me for a crime I didn't commit...so be it."

"Such brave words for one so guilty," the monarch mused, pacing around Sabino, "Unfortunately for you, your granddaughter has shared some of the bedtime stories that you used to regale her with," he leaned close, his grin stretching across a manic face, "seems to me that they were more than just stories, eh?"

"Go rot!" the old man lashed back.

Magnifico gave the silent cue and a pommel cracked against the elder's temple. He reeled, falling forward, only to be caught and wrenched back to stare up at the king.

"I asked you a question-"

"I KNOW WHO CALLED DOWN THE STAR!" The girl's shriek echoed around the small room. Her mother paused for a second, looking up at the terrible sound, before resuming her conversation with the air.

"Ah ha," the king's voice slithered, "Now we're getting somewhere! So, señorita," he started walking toward her, "who was it then?"

Asha's mind raced. She saw her grandfather broken and bruised. His limbs shaking from the onslaught he'd endured. Her mother mumbling to herself, out of her mind with enchantment. Their home in tatters around them, a sanctuary now brought to ruin in the desperate search for the boy upstairs. Her breath grew short as Magnifico drew closer. His eyes glowing. Oh, could he see the lies as easily as Sol could? Could he see her panic, her fear? Could he see how she'd failed her family? How she had wanted to protect them, lift them from the struggles they'd faced in the wake of Papa's death? How she had practically sold them out for a wish? One tiny wish.

The king was hovering over her now. His face looked so much like a gargoyle, contorted and grotesque. Her tongue was weighed down with lead.

"Who was it?"

Who was it...who was it?

It was me!

Was she a dribbling idiot? She couldn't tell him that! She'd be dragged off then, and Sol left trapped underneath a mountain of books. No, she could get out of this. She could get her family out of this. She needed someone...a name. Someone who wouldn't catch the king's ire so readily. Someone...

"Señorita?"

"Dahlia!" The name was thrown at Magnifico's feet before she could think better of it. She felt Simon tense against her. The hold on her arms slackened.

What am I doing?

"The baker's daughter?" the man chortled.

No...no it needed to be done. Baba, Yemma, they need my help now. I'll think of something for Dahlia...I'll-

"I find that hard to believe."

"I swear it, your majesty."

"LIES!" Sabino roared, staggering back to his feet, "Shame on you Asha! You-"

"Silence old man!" the king barked. The guard suffocated the grandfather's retort, "I have good authority to believe that there was evidence of a star present in this house. Care to elaborate?"

"I...I..." The fib was falling through her fingers like sand. Quick, she had to think of something! Before he got suspicious, before he-

Sabino had managed to jerk his head out of the iron hold, "I MADE THE WISH!"

"You?" the king snarled, "Back and forth we go. I tire of this game we play!"

"It's no game, it's-" Asha pleaded.

"NO!" her grandfather denied her, "You snake. Your father would be mortified of the evil you spew. To accuse an innocent...a friend no less?! You are an embarrassment to our family, mijita."

"Baba!"

The old man looked away, "I am ashamed to call you my granddaughter!"

The magician felt like she had taken the blow instead of him. Chest deflated; a sour taste coated her tongue. Even now as the wolves were circling, how could he not see? She was only trying to protect him...protect all of them! She couldn't lose someone else. Like her mother with her lines of salt, she had been pushing, training, begging for a different outcome. For something better than what they had. And she had achieved it, hadn't she? If only for a moment they had thrived! Why couldn't he see that? Why did he continue to refuse to understand how hard she worked? Why was he so ungrateful?

The final thought cut down all the others. It gleamed there, green, ugly....and true...

Ungrateful...like the townspeople with their wishes...right?

Her hair stood on end. Taking a breath, she started making small movements. Her hands shifting ever-so-slightly in the loosened vise. She could feel the dust scratching and sparking as it ran along her arms...down her sleeves...and...

"Alright, so you have the truth then," Magnifico sighed, leaning his hand against what was left of the table, "enlighten me."

"The stardust was mine," the creaking voice began, "I met the star out at sea and asked him to grant me power equal to that of the night sky."

Baba, no!

"I came back with this gift, and used it as much as I could," his eyes were hard, "granted proper wishes, as it were."

"Well done," Sabino's gut was slugged again. The old man doubled over, coughing while the king growled, "now where is the star?"

"Gone," came the splutter.

"Wrong answer-"

"AMA-GI!" Simon's hold broke, and Asha barreled forward, stardust falling in her wake, "Bab-" a flash of silver stopped her dead. Looking down, the point of a sword hovered inches from her stomach. Repeating tenfold, the rasp of metal against metal filled the room. She was encircled in blades, pointing at her throat, her chest, her gut.

"Well done, Asha," Magnifico nodded, "It seems our lessons have been paying off. However, your lack of foresight is astonishing."

"You..."

"Ah such fire in your eyes. It really is a shame. You would have made a great ruler."

"There is no star here!" her voice was fractured, "so leave us in peace!"

"My men will be the authority on that," he hissed. With a brisk flick three of the guards peeled away from the gauntlet. Asha could hear the heavy sound of their steps as they climbed the stairs, but her gaze didn't drop from the king's. Anger prowled through her body, devouring the fear that locked her limbs into place. No matter what, this man would suffer. She'd make sure of it. Even if it took her till her dying breath, she would make him regret tormenting her family. She would pay him back for every laugh, every comment, every blow.

She would take everything from him.

She took a step forward, the point of the sword pushing against her chemise, "You will find nothing."

"So confident! Well, not to worry señorita, I will not leave empty handed," then the cursed book came forth. Passed over to him by Simon's steady hand. Magnifico opened his arms, letting it float there. Its pages started turning, they flipped backwards and forwards without reason. The girl felt her nails bite into her skin. The sound of her mother's hysterical laughter rolled over the rustling parchment.

Standing strong against the ring of swords, the girl watched Sakina pass before her. Her smile was wide, unnatural. Her head tilted back, words came out in an exhilarated rush.

"Oh Tomás, you spoil me!"

Asha felt something break within her.

"There we are," the monarch sniffed, the book lifted and turned to face the imprisoned magician.

"Get that thing away from me," she snarled.

"Come now Asha, we can't have you running around with all those secrets I taught you. Think of it as a trade, your magic for a wish," his face loomed over the tome, twisted and disfigured by greed, "Don't you want to see your father again?"

"My father is dead!"

The king tutted, and the pages flipped again, this time in view of the girl. The blurring characters were nonsense to her, and when the pages stilled once more, what she saw there was even more incomprehensible. Her fists shook, as she beheld the writing. The air gone from that room, she felt that she would never breathe again.

"I suppose boundless power and prestige would suit you better."

A voice she didn't recognize emerged from her throat, hollow, cold, and dead, "I can't read it."

"Don't mind that," the king was nonchalant, "I offer you the same deal. What do you say?"

"No one can read it.... except you."

A shrug, "Take or leave it señorita. I do hate indecision. It's a terrible trait to possess."

"All the deals you made, no one knew what they were giving up!"

"Nonsense, they knew enough," he guffawed, "They all had a choice! If the cost was something they wished to shoulder, who am I to deny them?"

"How could they?!" she screamed, "It's written in the olde language like the rest of your little-AGH!" she had lunged, ready to claw the evil book to pieces, when green sparks leapt from the parchment to smite her.

Her hand seized, aflame, as she cradled it. She could see the scorch marks spidering over her fingers. She sank to her knees. Molten iron ran through her veins, it was so painful...unbearable. Her teeth sank into her lips, splitting them as she swallowed her screams. The blades followed her, pointing down at her huddled form.

Magnifico's laughter made the pain spike, "Silly girl. Didn't your mother ever tell you about playing with fire?" The book hovered, drawing closer, "Those who wish to harness it, must be willing to get burned."

"Y-You..."

"I give you amnesty Asha. You deserve to hang for what you did. But I am a benevolent man, and you are still young. Your whole life is ahead of you."

She could feel the tome crackling over her back, whispering promises and hopes. Asking her to turn around and accept. Just say yes...Asha....

"There are worse things than wishes."

"No."

"I'm sorry, you're going to need to speak up a bit. My hearing isn't what it used to be."

"NO!" her voice was primal. The pain, the frustration, the fear; it all came down upon her. Coalescing then rapidly metatecizing it swelled and burst from her raw throat, fractured and inhuman, but powerful.

Between her slitted eyes, she could see the monarch falter, reeling back on unsteady feet. Her hand throbbed, and her head swam, but vigniated within the foggy edges of her sight, was the king's deepest secret. It was a moment of openness. Infinitesimal to most, but in that small expression, that one darting look, she saw what Sol could always see.

"You're scared."

"What?"

"You're scared...terrified," her words frayed and thin, "You can't stand the thought of someone being better than you...threatening you. So, you take what you can't control. Memories...freedom...magic...and you weigh down the stardust with so much sand....no one can hope to oppose you," The sparks faded from the overhanging book, now she faced the storm that brewed behind those eyes cut from glass. Clenching her teeth tight, she spat, "You're pathetic."

The circle of silver parted as the typhoon came forth. The gargoyle's face leered, flaring green. A vicious hand jerked her from the floor and she cried out.

Looking up at the king of Rosas, she knew she was going to die. Whether he would cut her apart, or obliterate her mind with enchantment, she was certain that these would be her last moments. But instead of begging for mercy, instead of bowing at his feet and pledging her undying fealty, instead of anything rational, she answered with a stare ignited by hate.

"Since you insist on rejecting my generosity. I shall take what I am owed."

She felt her hair lift under the influence of the spell. Where his hand entrapped her arm, emerald sparks fizzed. She thought her grandfather called her name, but it was lost in the hurricane of stardust. She felt something being pulled forward. It ran from someplace behind her heart and started leaching over muscle and sinew, drawing toward the monster that captured her. Stomach rolling, she felt sick. The room around her swayed in time with her worsening vertigo.

I suppose this was always how it was going to end, wasn't it?

It was only ever for as long as I could keep it.

As long as I could fool the king.

But then something raced along her skin. Invisible, it raised goosebumps in its path. Jumping over her shoulder, it plowed right into Magnifico's grasp.

Like a rope being severed, the man's hand snapped open. Stardust fell, whispering against the floor. Howling, the king retreated past the knights. His eyes wild, as he beheld his palm.

The magician stood flustered and breathless as the world righted itself again.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

Asha stared at the king's hand. Paper thin skin was pulled taunt over the tendons that spread there. Crooked and old...so old. The fingers creaked closed into a weak fist before he shoved it beneath his cloak, "I shall have your hide for this-"

The girl took a step forward and the king shrank away. The guards surrounding her now not so staid in their valor. Darting eyes communicated silent thoughts under their visors. Breathing steady, she stood tall. Calm and cool, she remembered that long ago night. When she met a star...at the place where the sea touched the sky...

"It's not yours to take!"

Eyebrows raised over bloodshot eyes, "The power of the stars..."

"Your majesty!" a new voice called from the top of the steps. The three-man search crew stood, slightly bewildered at the scene unfolding below them. The representative who had spoken, shifted uncomfortably as the king's ruthless gaze rested on him.

"WHAT?"

"T-There's nothing your majesty!" The answer came rushed, the armor clinking in time with its occupant's nervous ticks, "N-nothing but...this..." an audible gulp could be heard as he raised the empty bottle. The tiniest particles of stardust could be seen still clinging to the glass.

There was a long silence. The container started to shake.

"So..." the monarch's words came with the cadence of a volcano about to blow, "...we're still playing games. Asha, I expected better from you," he tutted, his weakened hand still plunged deep within his robes, he stopped his retreat, "I know he's here...but if you insist, I will play by your rules."

"W-what?" she swallowed, suddenly feeling cold.

"Keep it, she's powerless without it," the king barked at the search party, "Put away your weapons," he growled at the men encircling the magician, "And take what you can find."

"Wai-"

But before she could finish, she was thrown aside, sent to fall against the washbasin were her temple split with a harsh crack.

Her vision blurring, the floor was quick to meet her. Her head buzzed, a low whine blanketed the scene, stuffed up her ears, and lacerated her brain. She couldn't see. There were only shadows and light....too much light....it burned. The plundering went on about her, nothing but cloudy bursts and faded voices.

Stop....stop it! Get out!

She had to stop it...to save her house. She, she....

She crawled. Pulling herself toward the fuzzy figures, she fought against the gravity that was heavy. Too heavy. But she crawled. She would stop them. She had to!

Rising above the din, her grandfather called out to her again. His voice was timid.....scared....

No....no, no, no.....this wasn't right! None of this was right! She was supposed to protect her family! Papa said...Papa had said....

Where are you, Papa?

A metal boot landed upon her back and pushed her to the floor. The weight passing over, she stayed laying there, staring at a place miles away.

Gone...he was gone.

The tumult continued; any stray bits of food were taken from them. The slivers of salted meat in the cellar, the hunks of stale bread, the meager draughts of milk, everything. What little they had to furnish their home was swept away by bodies clothed with the royal colors.

But amongst the storm, one soul stood aside. Not from lack of desire, or regret, but confusion. Fore despite the eagerness of the marauders, Simon found himself lost in the patterns painted upon the wall. Piecing together what little memory he had left, he puzzled over the strange girl in that small house. So familiar...and yet... he blinked at the thought, but it was gone. He kept staring.

A sharp command from Magnifico brought it all to an end. Crunching over broken pottery and splintered wood, the guards started to file out.

All pounding head and ulcerated innerds, the girl forced herself from the debris-ridden floor. The world spun and her hands eagerly found the wall. Leaning her weight there, her anger burned bright. Her vision crystallized on the king, bent over in his shame. He caught her looking and tried to straighten his posture, but his shoulders were still rounded.

How aged he was...and afraid...very, very afraid. She grinned, tasting blood on her teeth.

The monarch's jaw set. Turning back to Sabino, who still trembled where he had collapsed, he snapped at the boy who wouldn't stop pondering, "Take him with us."

Her small victory fizzled, "You can't!"

"I am the king," the answer came smooth, "I do as I wish."

Simon's body responded to the order, pulling him along at its own whim. The old man grunted as thick arms dislodged him. His breathing rasped wet through shrunken lungs, his head drooped over his shoulder, his face contorted in pain. And he was nothing but blank eyes and pale....so pale.

Staggering, she tripped over herself as they started toward the door. Reaching out toward the king, she screamed at him. Vulgarities she'd never known in tongues she'd never spoken, flew from her mouth. She wanted to tear him apart. To rip that crown from his head and smash it. On legs made of water, she leapt.

But the door disappeared under her touch. Then the light began to fade, each window devoured by the same force that had taken the door. Every exit, every single ounce of hope, was swallowed in a matter of seconds. Plunging the entire house in darkness.

The faraway laugh of the king emanated from the exterior "I hope your tongue loosens before you starve!"

Asha roared, her hand hitting the wall. The scorch marks sang but she didn't care. Eyes closed; her desperate breaths filled the quiet.

It's an illusion...a magic trick. It's fake...the door is...it's-

She found only stucco.

No, there was a door. She was sure of it. Somewhere beyond this magic was their escape, their salvation. Her fingers wrapped around where the handle should be, but they only grasped air.

"Dammit!" she choked, her forehead leaning on the smooth wall, "...please..."

"Habibti..." she felt her mother's hands on her shoulders.

Yemma.

"Habibti, don't cry. Today is a wonderful day! Your father has returned!"

The girl swallowed bile. Her battered hands finding her mother's in the dark, she squeezed those familiar fingers. Facing the woman by the strands of sun that bled through the thatch, her thumb grazed soft palms. With a stuttering heartbeat, she realized why her mother's touch had been so unusual. Within her grasp she held the supple hands of a seamstress.

The king had taken everything, even the scars.

Fighting back tears, she dropped her mother's hands and wrapped her in a firm hug, "Y-yes Yemma," her chest tightened, "it is."

The woman babbled something comforting and patted her daughter's cheek. She tutted at those puffy eyes. How could Asha be sad in such circumstances? She really was too hard on herself! She would be sure to tell her to take a break. Maybe spend some time with her father. After all, she hadn't seen him in five years. Tomás whispered something in her ear. Giggling, Sakina went off into the gloom. Straightening up the shattered residue of their lives, bliss adorning her lips.

With a shaking breath, Asha pulled her eyes away from her mother. Bending down, she sifted through the refuse that littered the floor. Her burned fingers found a tallow candle. Using the dregs of stardust that lined the seams of her sleeves, she lit it. The flame dancing before her as she mounted the steps. Each one cracking underfoot. But she barely heard it, her thoughts were purely on the fugitive who was still trapped in the trunk.

She found her bedroom door broken off its hinges and wedged, at an angle, in the frame. She crawled through the narrow space left for her. Having to push the candle through first before she could follow. By the inconsistent light, she was met with more destruction. All was silent, no Valentino, and no....

She shone the flame over the chest. Panic crashed down upon her. It was open. The books were strewn about. All battered and torn by the frantic hands of the searchers. She grasped the edge and shoved the candle down into the depths of the trunk. It lit on cobwebs. It couldn't be! They said they had found nothing! Where was he? Had he left her? Finally gone back to the sky to let her deal with things on her own? No, she wasn't ready for that yet!

"Sol?!" the name caught in her throat.

There was a distant bleat. She blinked. What the-

The bottom of the chest slid open, revealing the star. Held tight under his arm was Valentino, looking less than pleased.

"Asha!"

"You-"

"What is wrong with you?!" the boy sprung from the trunk. Landing on hesitant feet, the goat leapt from his arms before he could be dropped.

The star wobbled, bracing his hand against the open lid. Catching his breath, he glared at her, "You locked me in! Why didn't you let me...." his irritation petered out as he took in the room. His light dimmed, "Oh...."

"Y-you're still here."

His eyes found hers, "Yes, I heard them coming up the stairs so I-"

"You're alright!" relief fed into hiccups as tears traced down her cheeks. She buried her face in quivering hands. Turning away from the boy, her shoulders shook. She didn't want him to see her this way. Covered in mucus and babbling incoherent things. She ought to be ignored. Left to howl curses in the open air and wallow in her lament.

No, not yet. I can't give up yet.

She shivered; how weak she was! Her teeth wrapped around her bloody lips. She had to pull herself together! She had to rescue her Baba, disenchant Yemma, depose the king, capture the queen-

She felt the heat of his embrace before his arms settled against her. Turning into his chest, her face found his shirt, and she let everything out.

Chapter Text

Dahlia checked behind her before she reached into the cold hearth and pulled. The hidden lever let out a low moan as the counterweights shifted beyond the stone. Waiting for the latch to pop, her eyes were trained on the door. She wasn't supposed to be here. This study had been closed off with the rest of the west wing shortly after the king's return. He had given a reason, but it was simply nonsense. Half-truths and serpentine words answered the questions the staff dared ask. Her mother had been satisfied, as had many of the others who'd been huddled in the palace kitchens. Though she doubted anyone would have had the bravery to speak further.

The latch clicked, and she exhaled for what felt like the first time. Laying her contraband at her feet, it took all her strength to wrench the small door open. Wailing on ancient hinges, cold air swept through the crack. Shivering in the draft, she dropped her crutch inside before sliding through feet-first. Reaching for the basket, she drew it in behind her before the weights shifted again and the door fell closed. Looking up at the ingenious little system, she shook her head in wonder. What magic people were able to work with their wits alone! She supposed the kingdom had been a better place then.

"Perhaps."

She groaned, collecting herself before she made an about face and followed the curve of the natural walls. The shadow had found her again. Why did it always bother her when she was alone?

Her hair fell in her face, an irritated hand shoved it back. With all the recent chaos she hadn't been trimming it as she usually did. Now misshapen chunks stuck out in every direction, obscuring her vision completely during the worst of times.

"It was probably always bad. You know what Asha told you about the king. He never could grant wishes."

Her insides hallowed.

Simon...

She had seen him after he had made his "wish". All proud in the regalia they were able to piece together for him. Clean and proper with his chest stuck out like a rooster. She supposed he was happy with himself, then! Glad that he got his precious wish while everyone else-

"-suffers," the shadow finished, "He gets to play dress-up while you slave away."

And while Asha starves. She shuddered, the woven handle slipping in her sweaty palm. She switched the basket to her other hand. It hung awkward there, thumping against the crutch. Rethinking her decision, she moved it back. How long had it been? Three days, four...a week? She couldn't keep track anymore. One day bled into the next! She had been stuck in that sweltering kitchen for ages. No one got a proper rest anymore. They all slept in shifts. With so few staff, they couldn't afford to waste a single minute. Which was why this little endeavor she was embarking on was very tedious.

"I bet your mother is looking for you right now."

"Shut up," she growled, though she still turned her head to watch the dim path behind her. She knew that her excuse of straightening up the palace stores was not going to buy her much time. But it was the only lie she could muster. At least the only one her mother would believe. With that sobering thought, she tucked her chin and lurched down the dark way. The shadow skipped after, whispering doubts and worries in time with her beating heart.

She was gleeful when she found the break in the passage. Escaping into the sunlight, she was liberated. Salt air pressed against her face. She breathed in greedily. Though the shadow still lurked behind her, ready to narrate another nasty thought. And it didn't have to wait long, fore soon after the salt came the smoke. The smell of kindling cut harsh through the briny air. Even among the generous spread of trees, fear itched at the back of her skull. She couldn't see the city from where she stood, but taking the time to climb to the overlook, she was met with a vision of Hell.

"It's here! The horrible thing is here!"

Ashy clouds hung low over the clustered town. Whole streets gone as fire licked at timbers and thatch. It was the ones closest to the ports that were aflame, though the houses further up weren't much better. Once glittering under the eternal sun, Rosas was now dirty and tired. Banners were torn, streets blockaded by debris, animals left to run free from farms who could no longer care for them. And within this fading world, there were people. Wasted away and begging, they wandered the streets with their children in tow. Searching for relief. But beyond these more benevolent types, there were the scroungers. Horrible things who had most likely been the reason for the same smoke that billowed up now.

The baker grimaced. It took a truly wretched person to burn the houses of those suffering the most in this whole mess. Her eyes grew wide. Suddenly frantic, she navigated the cityscape. Not breathing until Simon's unblemished rooftop glowed gold in the sun.

Her relief tasted bitter as she peeled herself away from the devastation. She knew that she shouldn't care. Not anymore. He would deserve it if he lost everything for his selfishness. But she couldn't bring herself to be that cruel. Seeing his face in her mind's eye, she grew oddly warm. Those sad, distant, eyes haunted her. That poor boy was enchanted. Whether the decision had been made out of selfishness or frustration, he was now deep within the clutches of the king. And no matter how angry she got; her heart still grieved.

Lost in her dour thoughts, she was relieved to trip over a rock. Her stinging knees were a welcome distraction to the truth that hung heavy on her shoulders.

Dusting herself off, she made her way up the familiar dirt path. Taking care, she kept close to the tree line. Everything was silent, even the shadow couldn't come up with nasty enough things to badger her about. That was until the path straightened, and the house came into view.

There were guards everywhere. Circling the cottage, leaning against trees, one even positioned on the roof. And the windows...the door...where had they gone? Everything was smooth and white, like there had never once been an entrance. She swallowed, the sides of her throat sticking together as she stepped into the shadow of an oak. So that was where the king's men had gone. They were watching, waiting, for the star.

"You'll never get in."

No, she would. There had to be a hole, a gap, anything. She just had to think. The foliage was thick enough. She could make her way around unseen. Possibly unheard. She needed to circle it; find a place the king had missed. He must have missed something. He was human after all.

"You think."

She batted away the black thoughts and started her trek. Her steps were terribly slow and her breath short as she scuttled through the brush. She was so focused on the ground before her, she didn't see Simon rounding the house from the other end. But he saw her. His marching feet never pausing, he continued to stare. Watching her travel alongside him until she was swallowed up by greenery.

He never breathed a word.

****

"Yemma, you have to eat."

"I despise hardtack," she protested, her attention solely on the empty chair next to her. Pausing for a second she giggled at something before her cloudy eyes fixed Asha with exaggerated disappointment, "Don't we have anything better? Your father brought home that wonderful leg of lamb the other day."

"YEM-" the girl bit back her frustration. She knelt next to where her mother was seated on the rickety stool. The dusty and insect-ridden cracker held up in offering, "Please, you're going to get sick if you don't eat anything."

"I'll eat when there's proper food."

"There is none, Yemma. Please, this is all we have!" She raised the unappetizing morsel closer to Sakina's face, but the woman turned away.

"Please-"

"Can you believe what my daughter puts me through, Senor?" the woman's tone biting as her attention turned to the star sitting cross-legged against the wall. His head bowed in thought, her words surprised him. He blinked, pointing a finger at himself, "Yes, you!" the woman chuckled, "first she starves me, then she refuses to speak to her father. Ack, what am I to do with her?!"

"But-"

"Señora," Sol interrupted. Picking himself up, he edged his way over to the hungry pair. He didn't like how slight they were both getting. And how tired! Asha's eyes had such deep shadows. Why, she looked like a ghost sometimes with her gaze inward facing. All that muttering she was doing too! Sometimes it was spoken aloud, but most times it was under her breath, barely disturbing the air. Though more horrible than that, he could see a seed had sprouted within her. Lying dormant all this time, it now grew strong limbs and heavy boughs. Insidious and alien, it entangled her like brambles. He didn't like it.

He reached them, his fingers brushing against the hardtack, "Maybe-"

The girl yanked it away, "No."

"She's not going to eat it unless it's more appetizing."

"You'll hurt yourself."

He shrugged, "I'll survive."

"No."

"What? So, the two of you are going to starve?!"

Asha ignored him, taking a bite of the hard biscuit. She hid her disgust as it disintegrated in her mouth, "See Yemma," she swallowed, holding up the other end to Sakina, "it's food. You're hungry.... right?"

The woman pursed her lips, but her growling stomach had the final say. She took the offering with a thank you. Gagging on the horrid stuff, before she was once again distracted by the specter of her husband.

The girl shifted away. Standing up, she stretched. As her body slouched back, he could see how her clothes hung. The boy's jaw tightened as she flashed him a victorious smile.

"You can't continue to do this."

"I already told you; I'm not giving you up!"

"But you sure gave up Dahlia no problem, huh?"

She flinched.

"And a load of good it did you! Your grandfather dragged off, your mother enchanted, and you're..." his flickering hand gestured to her, but his thoughts filled in what he couldn't bring himself to say.

...wasting away.

"I'll figure something out," her voice was harsh.

"No Asha, sometimes you can't just 'figure it out.' You have to make a decision and stick by it. Even if it's not perfect-"

"No!"

"Why are you always so stubborn?!"

"Oh, forgive me if I want to keep you safe!"

"Keeping me safe doesn't help anyone!"

The girl opened her mouth to disagree before she was cut short by a sudden knock. They both looked at the cellar door. The knock sounded again. The magician took a step forward before Sol reached out to stop her. Looking down at where that golden hand wrapped around her arm, she shook it off and continued forward. The boy scrambled ahead, clipping her as he rushed by. Reaching the door first, he braced one hand against the wall, and the other twitched toward the lock.

Asha sprinted, stopping short of crashing into the boy, "Sol! What are you doing?" her mouth exaggerated the words she couldn't yell.

"Checking it out," he grabbed onto the key.

Her hand covered his, keeping him from turning it, "No, you're not! You should be hiding! What if it's a guard?"

"In the cellar?"

"Well, who else would it be?"

"Don't know, let's find out!"

"Wait-"

The deadbolt clunked with the turning key. The magician had been leaning all her weight against the star's arm. As the old door creaked open, she tumbled forward. Sol yelped, trying to stop her fall, he lost his balance and went spilling down the steps with her. Both landing in a volley of dirt, the boy's light caught on the figure who'd been knocking. Flustered and a bit breathless, glasses glinted back at him. A smile split his face.

"Dahlia!" The star whooped.

"Dahlia," Asha choked. Something grabbed her heart and squeezed. She focused on the earthen floor.

"H-Hi," the baker squeaked, strangling the basket between her fingers.

The boy was the first to greet her properly. Jumping to his feet, he shook her hand so frantically that the basket dropped. She made a grab for it before he exclaimed, "How did you get in?"

"Oh eh," she glanced over at Asha, who was busy scratching lines into the basement floor, "a couple of the bars in your grate are loose."

"Grate?" the magician blinked, "We don't have a..." but her eyes followed Dahlia's gesture toward the back corner of the subterranean room, which was highlighted by eight rectangles of sunlight.

Eight wonderful rectangles.

"Brilliant!" the star dashed over. He jumped in the way he did when he used to fly, but his feet met the ground every time. Finally, his hands grasped the bars and he hauled himself up to peer through. He dropped, laughing until it dissipated into coughing. Between struggling breaths his glee survived, "Of course, it's not a door or a window. It's not meant to be an exit! Dahlia, you're fantastic!"

"T-thanks?"

"Asha, we can leave! There's a way out!"

"H-how..." Asha couldn't take her eyes off their new salvation.

"There was a crack in the wall," the baker's shy explanation sounded off behind her, "a few good hits with this guy," she waggled the crutch for emphasis, "and I was through."

The girl stared at the clumps of plaster that Sol was stepping on as he danced in the sunlight. Someone some time ago had covered it over. For whatever reason, she didn't know, nor did she care. For the first time in far too long, she flirted with hope. Her imagination galloping before her as she thought of Baba. She could rescue him, get him and her mother off the island. She could keep her family together after all! Not everything was lost. Surely, she could salvage things...make them right. But reality came with the sound of stiff boots marching overhead, "The guards," her voice flattened, "What about them?"

"We could sneak by," the star ventured.

"You glow."

"Not that much," he flattened his shirt, looking down his torso and legs. He watched the dull light waver, "anymore."

The percussive marching beat continued. Asha groaned, her forehead meeting her knees.

"They practically have the entire armory patrolling these woods," Dahlia bent down to make sure nothing had broken in the basket's fall, "I barely made it in here myself. I can't imagine you two making it out without a distraction of some sort." she held up a pastry from the folded cloth, "Muffin?"

Asha and Sol looked up as one to the baker's offer. The boy spoke up, "Food?" He grinned, his eyes meeting the magician's, "It's food Asha, real food!"

The girl felt queasy as the star gently accepted the muffin and deposited it into her lap. She stared at it as it sank into the folds of her dress. Her stomach roared, but she ignored it. Murmuring a thank you, she slid it into her pocket when no one was looking.

"There's more where that came from," Dahlia smiled as she whipped back the cloth to reveal an assortment of breads and meats, "It's not as much as I'd like, they've really locked everything down at the castle, you know. Whole wings blocked off and forgotten about. Not to mention the lack of guards. It's like a ghost town," her eyes shifted as the marching once again circled overhead, "and they're not even allowing the staff to leave. The only reason I could get here was...well, you know..."

"I know," Asha sighed, finally meeting her friend's gaze, "I'm so sorry, Dahlia."

"Eh, forget about it! I couldn't let you sit in here and starve. What are friends for, huh?"

Her intestines knotted together, "Yeah."

The baker was confused by her friend's sullen demeanor, though she waved it away as residual mourning for the situation she was in. Looking up the steps toward the house proper, she dared to ask, "How's your mother...your grandfather?"

Shaking hands fisted in the dirt, clumps of damp earth crumbling through her fingers, "Gone," she managed through her quivering lips. She felt a pressure encircling her, suffocating, as she relived that terrible night. How long had it been? Was her grandfather even still alive at this point? Stuck in a damp cell, tormented by what was left of Magnifico's soldiers. She curbed her grief, "Yemma's under a spell and Baba is..." she grunted.

"Taken by Magnifico," the star finished, his voice gentle, "he's being held prisoner."

"Oh no," Dahlia's face fell. She went to Asha's side. Dropping to the floor with her, she gave her friend a tight hug, "I didn't know Asha. I only knew you were trapped. How horrible!"

The magician hated every second of it.

The baker pulled away, her face stiff, "Then you have to save him, don't you?"

The girl nodded; her eyebrows drawn together as she stared at where her toes tapped their nervous beat.

"Let's do it!"

The magician blinked, looking back toward her friend in disbelief, "Excuse me?"

Dahlia bobbed her head, her fingers wringing her apron, "I'll help you." The shadow at her shoulder chuckled, it was a dry sound, like dead leaves blown around in the wind. She told it to mind its own business, but it still hung over her. Looming closer, pressing its cold hands against her neck. She clenched her teeth, "They've all but sealed off the dungeons...with people still inside..." her gulp was matched by that of the girl and her glowing companion, "...but I know another way in."

"Your tunnels are saving us again, hey?" Sol smiled.

"Well..."

"No Dahlia," Asha breathed ice, "I can't have you doing any more for us. It's too risky."

"I think she's already been put at risk," the star's voice lashed, "wouldn't you say?"

Glasses reflected starlight then sunlight as the short-haired girl looked back and forth between the two. She could feel the air become oppressive, but she was perplexed as to the reason. The magician had sunk into herself. Her eyes were sunken, weighed down by heavy bags. Ay, Asha looked exhausted! The poor thing probably hadn't slept since the whole ordeal started. She placed a reassuring hand against her friend's. She felt the roughened skin, then the muscles flinch, before it was drawn away. In the dim light she could see the horrid scar that looped over her friend's fingers. Feeling the shadow's hold pressing down again, she gasped, "Are you-"

"I'm fine," the answer came too quick, the injury stowed away behind crossed arms, "This is really dangerous Dahlia..." the girl continued in a voice laden with fatigue, "...are you sure?"

Shoving her fear deep, she nodded, "Maybe if I help you, we'll figure out a way to break the spell on your mother and..." she gulped, "...Simon. There must be something there...right?" She gestured to the luminescent boy, "Something that he can piece together? Maybe?"

The mournful girl looked over at the star, she could see how his sleeve went rigid against the shape of the arrow. Her stomach turned, "Maybe..."

"Definitely," Sol affirmed, his expression fierce, "The more the merrier."

Dahlia smiled, despite the words of doubt dripping down her back, "Great!"

"One thing though," the star knelt down in front of both girls, looking the baker dead in the eye he smirked, "We do intend to overthrow the king and queen," his head tilted to the side, "Does that bother you?"

"Yes, it does," the shade whispered, "It terrifies you!"

The baker's lips pursed. Untying her apron, she flipped it the other way round. A small pocket was hastily sewn there. She dropped it on the floor in front of her. Working her vocal cords against the numbing worry, she proclaimed, "I'm in."

Asha stared at the discarded garment. She had to blink a few times to realize what she was looking at. Between the sloppy stitches, something glimmered. Her heart skipped. Eager fingers reached over and pulled at the seam. Stardust leaked out, glowing like a lantern in that dusky room, "Dahlia..." her mouth agape, she looked to her friend, "...where did you get this?"

The short hair bounced as she shrugged, "It fell off the back of a cart."

The magician tackled her, giving her the tightest hug she could, "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you," she kept repeating in between her endless apologies. Dahlia patted the girl's back, a bit startled, but happy that the haunted look had gone away.

Excitement now ran through the group. Ecstatic jabbering and hopeful plans wove through the atmosphere. Their tones hushed; the energy was nonetheless electric. Evil didn't seem so insurmountable as they leaned over crude maps etched into the basement floor. They could take on anything if they tried! They were young, they were determined, and they were right. There was nothing that would stand in their way. How freeing it felt, Asha thought, to have a strategy. She knew it would work, there was no way it couldn't!

Grinning, her hand was thrown in the middle of their huddle, "We'll save Rosas, at all costs."

Dahlia's hand covered Asha's, "At all costs."

Both girls looked toward Sol, whose hands were in his pockets. His mouth downturned into something pensive.

"Sol?" the magician asked, her hazel eyes turning caramel as they reflected back his light.

He exhaled and laid his golden hand on top of theirs, "At all costs."

After Dahlia had departed, Asha made her way back upstairs to offer her mother the new provisions. But Sol couldn't help noticing that she never partook in any herself.

Chapter Text

"You really think this is going to work?"

Sol glanced over at Asha. She was anxious, which was natural given the circumstance. They didn't have a lot of time. Thanks to Dahlia's general knowledge, and their observance of the knights' march, they had determined that there was a tiny five-minute lull. One precious moment where the armored host was sparse enough to escape.

The changing of the guard at dusk.

It was a tedious thing to arrange a plan for such a tight window, one that the magician was still currently sweating over. Though shoving Valentino through the grate by his rump was probably another reason for her tension. The goat in question had never looked so displeased, but even he knew to keep quiet in times such as these. His little eyes fixed the star with such a glare he had to look away to keep from laughing.

"I've never been in an era where a flying goat wasn't a hit. Except for Hannibal...he really wasn't a fan of the whole-"

"Not to cut off the history lesson, but I am shoving a goat through a fairly narrow space. I could really use the help," she stood on her toes for emphasis. For as tall as she was, she still couldn't push the stardust laden animal through.

"Oh, yeah!" the star moved behind her. Reaching over, he got a good grasp of the goat's hindquarters, and shoved when Asha sounded off.

"Three!"

With some wiggling, and an exasperated bleat, Valentino spilled out into the world beyond.

Relaxed in their success, she could suddenly feel the boy against her back. Her heart fluttered. But she denied it the pleasure. Fighting the heat that scorched her cheeks, she banished her daydreams with a shake of her head. No matter how charged the air felt around her, or how the warmth of his body thrilled, now was not the time for fantasies. Especially ones that would never come true.

The last thought left her cold.

Snapping back to the present, she ducked beneath the boy's reaching arms, and pushed herself against the damp cellar wall. Fighting for distance, every inch was agonizing. She gulped before the spell rose soft through the air.

"Nim."

Valentino floated up. Past the view of the grate and toward the guards...hopefully. At this point he was at the mercy of the wind.

"Alright," she muttered, not daring to look at the star, "What now?"

"HEY EVERYBODY LOOK AT ME!"

The girl jumped. His voice was so loud! It vaulted over her and crashed into the sunlight. Spinning through the air, it drifted in tandem with the rapidly ascending goat. Had he lost it? They didn't need to be any more conspicuous than they already were! Now they had given away their position. Valentino would only be a glaring, bleating, beacon. What did he think he was doing-

Her head swung around and found him motionless. His golden eyes bright with laughter and his voice traveling further and further away. All the while, not a muscle twitched on his face.

"I'M THE STAR!"

A shout answered. Then a rallying cry, accented by a load of calling and cursing. Heavy footfalls came upon them, all clanking metal and brusque words. Asha panicked, searching for a place to hide, Sol was quicker. He pushed her deeper into the shadows, folding over her in that narrow corner. Close, but not touching, there was barely a breath between them. All whilst the brigade clamored above. Following after the "star" that drifted far and away from the house.

Their eyes found each other in the dim. Glimmering and wide, with a mutual cough, they jerked their attention away. The boy focused on the passing shadows and she on the floor. Both terrified that the other had seen their shame.

But the longer they stayed in that careful way, the hotter those forbidden centimeters burned. Tight, sweltering, and airless, she felt as if she was laid upon a smith's forge. She tried to breathe but couldn't. Her face surely turning blue, she began to panic. Here they were, cramped so close....too close, in this secret place. Agh, how long did it take those lumbering oafs to chase after some goat? She felt a trickle of sweat run down her neck. What a mess this whole thing was! She gripped her skirt tight.

Air...she needed.... air....

"We're good," he moved away, and her lungs swelled. Her gasping caused him to pause, but she circled her hand for him to carry on.

He nodded, pulling himself up to peer through the metal bars. His brow bunched together as he listened. Setting his mouth, his voice rose again, farther away still.

"KEEP UP YA SLOW POKES!"

"H-How are you doing that?" her breathing evened out.

He smiled, wistful at some memory, "It's a little trick I discovered. I call it ventriloquism."

"Ah."

His head drifted toward her, "And incredibly valuable if you're tight on stardust," he dropped, his feet kicking up a large cloud of dirt on impact, "Ready?"

She reached into her pocket, drawing out the shimmering dust. Golden powder drizzling through her fingers, she clapped her sparkling hand in his, "Ready."

Their entwined hold glowed.

Sol gave the magician a lopsided smile.

Her heart squeezed.

"Erim," they chanted as one.

Gone was the girl and the star. In their place stood two knights with rather ill-fitting armor. The taller one wobbled before catching himself against the wall. Breathing hard through the narrow visor.

"Woah! Hey!" the other rushed forward, the metal hand clanged harsh against his chest plate, "Are you still with me?"

Dazed, the lanky guard shook his head. Ginger hands reached up, shimmying the helmet off his head until bright blonde hair could be seen. Sol's eyebrows rose as he took in the rather scrawny soldier in front of him. Goodness, that uniform was eating her alive! It ballooned around her, flooding at her legs and overtaking her shoulders.

"Asha, this disguise isn't...great."

The magician's sigh sounded metallic as it slithered out of the ventail. She threw back her visor, her lips pursed, "I'm doing the best I can! And what about you? You got the crest all wrong!" she grabbed onto his colors and gave them a tug.

He jerked his surcoat away, "Best I could do with corrupted stardust," he started to brush away imaginary smudges, but paused. Fore gazing back in his polished gauntlet, was his reflection.

He looked scared. Funny, he'd never been scared before. Worried sure, maybe even a bit anxious...but not scared. Now his pale face stared him down and told him he was terrified. Blinking at the spector, a bleak vision paraded before him, traipsing over every little thing that could go wrong. Why hadn't he seen it before? Their plan was flimsy...pitiful. The other day he could have taken on the world, but now...

He shifted his helmet from under his elbow. Turning it around in his hands, he stared down at the face. The pale omen fractured, distorted under the multitude of beveled edges.

That was better.

Now was not the time for second guessing, especially when reinforcements were tramping up the dirt path. Worry would have to wait. Awash in the twirling dust motes, the boy fit the helmet back into place, "Tally-ho."

The girl's visor fell. They were ready. The star reached up, jimmying the loose bars until he was able to unscrew them from the grate. Enough to squeeze through, he hoisted himself up and out of that subterranean room. Once his feet hit the grass, he reached back down into the pit, drawing the girl out with him. He struggled for a second, whether her costume was bad-fitting or not, it still weighed a ton.

"You couldn't make this stuff lighter?" he grumbled.

"I was going for authenticity."

"Sure..."

They spent far too many tense seconds piecing the grate back together. Asha couldn't remember the spell, and he couldn't seem to fit the bars back in the same way. With the troop coming ever closer, they ended up leaning them in their approximate position. One bad breeze would topple them. But hopefully, by that time, they'd be gone.

Sol took the girl's arm and pulled her toward the tree line. Through tapered slits, she glanced back at the house that was fast retreating from sight. Behind those featureless walls slept her mother. Unaware of the storm that was being called down upon them. Perhaps she was lucky in all this disorder. In her mind, her husband had just returned from a very long trip abroad. She was unbothered by the screams that rose up from the city, unchallenged by the monarchy's tightening grasp, and oblivious of what the past had written on her soul. She may be lucky, but selfishly, Asha wanted her mother back. Wrenching her head away, she faced forever forward.

As the couple slid into the woods, one soldier witnessed their vanishing. One soldier who had been left to stand by and wait for reinforcements to arrive. Watery eyes followed the spindly forms as they bobbed and weaved through the underbrush. Unsteady in unfamiliar armor. A smile played upon a pock-marked face. The sentry relieved himself of his watch and followed after.

****

Where were they? Dahlia paced, her tread uneven and jerky on the forest floor. She was sure she'd told them to meet her at the old mill. She had given them directions, hadn't she? Bah! Directions? That shouldn't matter! Asha knew this island as well as she did. She would know where to go. So, if they were late then...

"They must have been caught."

An angry hand cut through the translucent agitator, but the shadow didn't leave. Resuming her puttering, she wobbled over the weathered stones that had once made up the abandoned structure. Now covered in moss and mushrooms, they slowly melted away under nature's weight.

Ugh, they really had to stop dawdling like this! Any longer and she'd really be in trouble. She had already been chastised for her dallying the other day. She still hadn't figured out if her mother knew that she'd left the palace. Though going by the intensity of her scolding, she could guess.

Her racing thoughts were interrupted by the distant ring of metal feet. The shadow grabbed her then. Sinking its clammy hands into her chest, her heart spiked. Looking around for a good hiding place, she dove behind the twisted trunk of a long dead tree. Frantic breaths pierced the silence. Not even the birds sang as the clanking came closer. Peering around the lichen covered bark, she saw two clumsy silhouettes climb the embankment.

She went limp with relief.

As the pair crested the incline, she stumbled out into the open. Positively beaming, the baker called out, "You made it!"

"Wait..." Asha's voice reverberated through the armor, "...how did you know it was us?"

"Because," Sol intercepted Dahlia's reply, "it's a bad disguise."

"No, it isn't!" the magician stamped her foot with the rattle of metal sheets. The baker had to admit it was quite funny to see a suit of armor have a tantrum. She pinched the sides of her mouth to spare her friend the laughter. The shorter soldier pointed back at her with the energy of a joust, "Come on Dahlia, tell him it's a fine disguise!"

Put on the spot, she swallowed. Brown eyes squinted behind beat-up glasses, "Eh..." her hand tilted back and forth in the air, "...it's a start?"

"Told you," the star snorted.

Asha elbowed him, but it did little more than ping off his polished arm. He glanced over when he heard the sound and chuckled.

Dahlia sighed looking at the two of them. They were obviously mad for each other. She certainly had never seen Asha as flustered and confused as she was now, being swallowed by the over-large uniform she'd put together. And who had told that boy that the royal crest had a mouse on it? She rolled her eyes; they were in it bad. It was a shame that he had to leave after all of this.

"Come on," the magician sighed, picking her way over the mess of knotted roots, "we're wasting time."

"Wait!" the star spoke up, rigid in the green light of the leafy overhang.

The girl groaned, struggling to turn around under the hefty disguise. Maybe Sol was right, she should have made this lighter, "What?"

He looked above him, "What direction is the wind blowing in?"

"Really Sol? I don't see how this is impor-"

"East," Dahlia answered in her stead. Her finger held high above her head.

"Hmm..." the boy pondered. Looking at the slow bend of nearby leaves, it wasn't blowing very fast. Noting the elevation and taking into consideration the curvature of the earth...that would bring him right about...

He took a step to the left and held his arms out. A second later a frantic bleat punctured the silent forest. Crashing through the thick canopy, Valentino landed upside down in Sol's sturdy hands. A bit dazed, the animal's weary eyes landed on the fake knight across from him and his legs scrambled in panic. His calls of fear intensified, sounding almost human.

"Alright! Ok! Stop!" Asha rushed forward; her face revealed as she took the terrified goat from Sol's hold. His little gray body had gone limp with fear, the girl shook him to bring him round, "Valentino!"

The goat blinked, shaking his head, he squinted at the magician. His expression skeptical...if a goat could possess a skeptical expression, that was.

"Good. We're fine now? Great..." she sighed, before a horrible thought weaseled its way through her calm. Eyes wide, she looked over at Sol. Though his face was covered by the helmet, she could see him tense with the same realization.

"Where are ya, rascal?!"

"Yeh've gotta date with 'is majesty!"

The rough voices cleaved through the group. Keeping a strangle-hold on her composure, the girl placed the goat on the ground. Her fingers finding the stardust at her side, they brushed over the back of the animal. A straight line of gold erupted along his spine, and she uttered one word, "Run."

Valentino sprinted one way and his shadow the other. And the group opposite of both entities, tearing through the thick woodland. The star's traveling voice followed the makeshift distraction, but the crashing footfalls were still closing in.

Asha and Sol kept pace, with Dahlia lagging after. Every nerve was alive in her bad leg. Each time it caught her weight she smothered a scream. The uneven terrain was unforgiving, her crutch slipping and sliding over the patchwork of loose leaves and spidering roots. She steadied her breath and took another step. With a shrill yelp, her good foot plunged through the brush, her leg disappearing up to her calf. Hearing the fearful sound, the girl and the star raced back to their fallen friend.

Dahlia looked behind her, acid rising at the back of her throat.

"They're coming to get you!"

"I'm fine, go on, go on!" she shooed them, but they kept approaching, "Go!"

"No," the magician's voice growled as she looped her arm around the girl's back.

The star sidled against her other side, repeating the same gesture, "It's probably an old rabbit warren. Nothing to worry about."

"Or snake den."

"They're going to catch up with us!"

The two didn't listen. Counting away precious seconds, they pulled as one. Her foot hit the underside of a root and bent the wrong way.

She screamed.

They let go.

The fake knights looked at each other, communicating without words, they tried again. Dahlia insisted they stop, but with one more firm tug, she was out.

The group continued. Slower, but together. Both the girl and the star bracing their arms against the baker's back as they climbed further away from civilization. The sound of the king's men eventually fading into the background with their advance. The tense moment was slow to leave them. All three still glanced behind them at different intervals to make sure they were truly safe. Each subsequent check made them breathe a bit easier. Until their urgent stride relaxed into a stroll.

"It should be up here somewhere," the baker's voice cut through the pensive quiet. Trying to keep her tone even despite the flaring pain racing up both legs now. She really needed to sit for a second, but hearing the desperate gasps emitting from her companions, she kept her suffering to herself. Each footfall was fire. Her crutch doing little more than propping her up. She felt as if they were wandering for ages, the same trees passing and the same birds calling. It wasn't until the greenery grew sparse that she recognized their progress. Though by this time, her sight was ringed in red, blinded by the feeling of broken glass and hot iron. When the rock wall rose before them, she finally let out the agonized cry she'd been holding in.

"Are you alright?" Asha's voice was breathless.

The baker shook her head, leaning hard on her crutch, she sank down to her knees.

"You need to rest-" Sol started.

"No, I'm not holding you two back!" She raised her free arm, shaking, it pointed to a pile of rocks overtaken by new growth, "That's the old entrance to the mine...." She breathed through gritted teeth, "...it's partially collapsed, but if you stay on the top level, it will get you right underneath the dungeon."

"Dahlia..."

"Halt! Traitors to the crown!"

The baker didn't need to look behind her. The ice in her veins already told who it was.

The star's back straightened. A breath passed before his voice changed to something coarse and clumsy, "Ay friend, calm your accusations! We have found one of his majesty's staff wanderin' outside. Wouldn't want her to be escapin' now, would we? We're just bringin' her back to her proper location an-"

"State your family then, sir," Simon interrupted.

"My family?"

"Yes," his tone was acidic, "that is, unless you don't possess a family name?"

"Oh ay...I do...it's eh...."

"Fernandez," Asha muttered.

"...it's Fernandez, yessir Fernandez!"

"Ah," the boots crushed the loose rocks underfoot, "Fernandez? Quite interesting...and common... I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific..."

The air went still.

"...are you Carlo?" he crept closer, "Andrés?" the soil kicked up from his shuffling feet hit Dahlia's back, "...or..." the sound of rasping metal emitted. A flash of silver and the sword tapped the star's shoulder, "...Sol?"

"Great guess," the golden boy replied before his elbow shot back. Burying itself in Simon's royal blue, and unprotected, stomach. The blade moved to slash at Sol's neck, but he ducked underneath its arc. The rotund knight, out of balance and winded, toppled over. The star glanced back at the heaving opponent, wincing, "I'm sorry Simon."

"You filthy...rotten..." he spluttered, his fingers spasmed as they remained clenched around the hilt. Trying to get up, he fell back again, wheezing, "Submit.... submit in...the name of the king..."

"Afraid we can't do that," Sol's movements were slow. He reached over to Asha, giving her a push toward the abandoned mine, "we have important business with him. I'm sure you understand," he knelt to where Dahlia was, offering his gloved hand, "Come on, I'll carry you-"

"TRAITOR!" Simon roared. He rose then, his sword held high, "I SHALL BRING YOU TO HIM IN PIECES!"

"Watch out!" the magician cried. She leapt in front of the star, her hand coated in stardust, "A-"

"NO!" Sol pulled her down before the blade could pierce her. Rolling to shield her, it clanged harsh against his back. The armor rang, denting under the impact. The hulking figure took up his sword again. Now heavy in his hands, he labored to lift it. But with eyes bloodshot and angry, the weapon readied itself for another fall. The star could hear it cutting through the air. Lightning quick, his hands found his own sword, and the blades met in a burst of stardust. The illusion wavering upon impact, he dug in, pushing all his weight into it, "Simon...listen to me. We're not your enemies."

"So says the traitor!" his weapon slid along its weaker brother, leaning close, "All enemies of the crown must fall."

"I don't want to do this with you."

"Then my blade will decide!" The thrust broke Sol's sword. Cold iron obliterating the stardust it met, golden eyes were highlighted in the fragmented glow, as the hilt crumbled to sand. Simon readied himself to strike for a third time, unimpeded. Jolting back, the star reached around, blind, for Asha before her voice cut clear and true.

"KI!"

The blow never came. Simon looked over to find his arm ensnared by vines. Enraged, he pulled against their hold. Resilient as they may have been, they started snapping under the tension. The boy continued to struggle, gaining ground in centimeters. Murder lighting his gaze, he grinned with the visage of a jack-o-lantern. 

They didn't have long.

"Come on!" Sol called quick to assist Dahlia. Pulling her up, she cried again. Her muscles spasming. For a second the avenging knight stopped. Blue eyes blinked. Clear then cloudy in the briefest moment. Despite the blinding pain, the baker didn't miss it.

"I'll distract him."

"What?!"

Dahlia looked at the magician through her visor, "I'll only slow you two down, you need to rescue your grandfather."

"Have you lost your mind? We have to go!" she could hear her friend's voice crack.

"No!" choppy hair flew as she bucked from Sol's hold. Falling back to the ground, her searching hands found her crutch. Bringing it close to her, she clutched in a death grip, "he'll only come after us," she held Simon's incendiary glare, "I know I can talk him down...I just need time-"

Asha's metal fist fell on the baker's shoulder, "Time we don't have."

"Time you don't have," she answered, her unblinking stare still focused on the monster before her, "I have plenty of it."

"Dahlia-"

"Dahlia," Sol passed before her vision, cutting off whatever argument Asha was going to pose. Placing himself in between the altercation, the vines popped as the attacker grew near. He breathed, lifting his visor, he looked at the baker...no...saw straight through her. She was sure he was staring at her very soul.

"Come with us."

She pulled back, her head shaking. Her eyes stung with tears she struggled to hold at bay, "Please..." she begged, "...don't make me be a burden."

The star bowed his head. She could see his forehead wrinkle before a thin breath scraped over his teeth.

Something cool was placed in her hand.

"May the stars keep you."

She barely heard it. And by the time she went to respond, the star was up on his feet. He took Asha by the arm and pulled her after him. At first, she was confused. Then she screeched. Trying desperately to slither out of the boy's hold. But his hand may as well have been soldered to her. Her free arm beat against his shoulder, her heels caught in every upraised root, her legs went limp. But no matter how fierce she was in her battle, the boy felt nothing. The arguments soon vanished as the pair were consumed by the depths of the mine.

Alone with her decision, Dahlia curled into herself, swaying with the finality of it all. In her hands lay a small dagger. She let out a morose laugh. Its craftsmanship was shoddy, and there was stardust still tumbling from it, but it was sharp. The leather grip felt good in her palm...safe. Her hair in her face, she swallowed, but her throat was dry.

The shadow spun its discontent.

"You stupid girl. All alone at the end of a blade."

"Yes," she spoke aloud, watching as the vines tore, "I suppose you're right."

With one mighty groan, the arm came free. The soldier stumbled forth, ignited with rage. Dahlia stood on her brittle legs. Her crutch held with a bloodless grip. She would not shake...she would not tremor...she would meet him as if on a battlefield...like he wanted.

The beast marched forward. Sulphur on his lips and blood on his mind.

Despite herself, her eyes squeezed shut.

But with the scattering of pebbles, the knight passed her by. She whirled around to watch his steady pace...heading right for the mine.

"Wait!"

He kept marching.

"No, no, no!" Though she ran on hot coals, adrenaline had her skating over the uneven ground. Through faltering steps and shallow breaths, she managed to close in on the boy's stride. Her face a mask of pain, her voice emerged warped and rough, "I am your opponent!"

The knight stopped dead in his tracks. Those distant blue eyes turning to run her through, "I would never disgrace myself as to engage in combat with someone as broken as you."

He didn't mean it. He was enchanted after all; his words were not his own.

"But aren't they? He did want this after all...wished for it."

She could hear her heartbeat in her ears.

No, it wasn't him...not really...

"But do you know that for certain? Isn't that always how he felt, how he looked at you? Isn't that why you've never had the courage to ask?"

Her terror crystallized into something cold. The corners of her vision decayed. All blurring except for the boy playing soldier.

"Why don't you show him what a broken little thing can do!"

Her sense evaporated. A passenger in her own body, she felt herself stepping forth. With force unknown to herself, the dagger bent back and slashed Simon's tunic.

Seconds elapsed to minutes as the air hung thick over the clearing. Staring at the slit, blood welled from the shallow cut.

"Oh...Simon!" horror overtook her as the blade dropped to the ground, "...I-I didn't mean..."

Shock turned to fury and the knight's beefy arm hit her. She went sprawling back against the loose earth, pebbles cascading down upon her as she struggled to get up. But her movements halted when the boy knelt over her. His sword pressed against her heart.

"You're going to die. Yes, you're going to die!"

No, she wasn't! She refused. She knew that boy had to be in there...somewhere. He was lost, that was all.... lost. She looked into his eyes and beheld a storm, tumultuous and indecisive.

"Simon?" she ventured, watching lightning flash in his gaze.

"It's me...Dahlia..."

The blade pressed further. Her breathing stuttered and the weapon stalled.

She gulped, "...y-your friend. Remember? We've known each other for so long."

His expression didn't change.

"I-I don't know what caused you to do all this...but Simon...you didn't need to."

His gaze became glassy, disconnected.

No...what was she missing?

"Please, Magnifico has enchanted you. I can't believe this is what you wanted! Simon-"

His free hand covered her mouth, smothering her words. He adjusted his sword. Holding it in a reverse grip, his knee crushed her stomach. Weapon at the ready, it was poised to plunge through her ribcage.

Heavens above! He was going to skewer her!

She writhed as she felt the point burrow, cutting through her dress, her chemise, her skin. She screamed, but it only came out in wet puffs around his hand. Frenzied fingers searched for the dagger, coming up with nothing but rocks, grass and...

She scooped up the loose dirt. In one stifled cry, she threw the debris in his face.

The hand came away.

Breathing in air again, she wept, "I forgive you."

The soldier became a statue.

"S-Simon, I'm not angry with you. I'm sorry you lost the tournament, I'm sorry you got sick, I'm sorry things didn't turn out like you wanted them."

The blade shook.

"And I'm sorry that you felt that you had to become a knight to be happy."

His breathing was ragged.

"But you're not a failure because it's taking a bit longer to get your wish."

Sunlight came back to his eyes.

"You were never a failure."

The boy yelled. The sword fell, silver and deadly, embedding itself into the soil next to Dahlia's head. The knight stumbled back. A shuttering, babbling, mess.

Dahlia sat up slow in the disturbed earth. Trembling fingers placed against where the blade had pressed, she found blood blooming beneath her collar bone. A frightful check found slit fabric and a narrow wound, already clotting. She breathed again, feeling her heart pumping beneath the red stain.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..."

Her face, slack with terror, softened. Compassion slowed her racing pulse. Finding sensation running through her legs again, she pulled herself up to her knees. Inching her way over to the poor boy. He heard the sound of scattered leaves and stuttered further back.

"Don't come any closer!"

"Simon..."

"I said get away! Run...please," the last word broke on his tongue, and he fell where he stood. Seizing up into a ball, he rocked there. His head dropped in his crossed arms as his back heaved. The girl kept pulling herself over. Shuffling along the forest floor, the pain forgotten as she drew closer to the mourning figure. Her hand closed the distance, delicate as it laid against his spasming shoulders. She could feel him flinch at her touch, but he didn't retreat. Her hand glided further, wrapping around his wide back. He leaned into it, his body feeling so fragile.

"I don't want to hurt you," he sobbed.

"You won't," Dahlia murmured, resting her head against him as he grieved his decisions, "You would never."

Chapter Text

Splashing down in the flooded mine. Asha was finally able to wrest her arm away from Sol. Though it wasn't long separated from the star. With a shrill cry, she paid him back for every forced step. Her gauntlets glancing off his armor, the metallic pings reverberated around the cavern. She called him all the names she knew. Any wretched, lowly, description she could summon. The boy took it all in, wordless, as she vented her frustration. With one final blow, her forehead was against his chest, both arms frozen in their last strike.

"We've left her to die." 

"Asha, that's not true."

She pushed herself away, the water sloshing against her knees, "Says you! Why did you make me leave her?! She would have made it if-"

"She didn't want to come!"

"She was just trying to be brave!"

"No, Asha," he was brisk, "I saw. She didn't want to leave him."

The girl shook her head, the helmet clanking with the frantic motion, "Y-you're wrong-"

He exhaled, "The soul never lies."

"That doesn't matter! Not if it puts her in danger! You should have-"

"Are you telling me that I shouldn't be granting wishes?"

The magician gagged. The truth cutting deep. She bowed over her writhing gut. Staring down into the murky water, she was ill.

Why Dahlia...why would you do something so stupid?

"She wants to save him," he answered her thoughts. Always answering her thoughts. Her fingers clenched.

"Get out of my head."

"I know she can," the star skated over Asha's rancid words.

"How can she? There's nothing left of him!"

"You can't say that-"

"I can!" her head flew up, eyes swollen, "When he kills her!"

"He would never hurt her."

Bile climbed her esophagus. Her hand pressed against her mouth. Moon and stars, she was going to be sick! She heaved and the acrid taste was on her tongue. She had left her friend to die. Killed by a boy whom she'd known forever. A boy who was her dearest companion. Maybe even something more. But no longer. Not now. Now she was scared and alone. If she was still breathing.

The girl whimpered, folding over. How horrible...unforgivable...

"Listen to me!" Warm hands were on her shoulders. A swift motion brought her right-side up. Sol was over her, golden eyes ablaze, "She'll be alright."

His gaze held her, so strong and assured. Cutting through her hysteria like a brisk wind. She blinked herself back to reality.

Chattering teeth distorted her voice, "D-do you know that? R-really?"

"Without a doubt."

She swallowed back her nausea, "Promise?"

"Promise."

She breathed around the rock in her chest. They both knew better, but hope was addictive. She nodded, ignoring how the lie rotted between them.

"Your grandfather needs you right now. We're going to save him, remember?"

Urgency spurred her muscles into motion. A violent splash announced her step. Her attention held captive, she almost plowed into the star. Casting her gaze over his shoulder, the shadows morphed with her imagination.

Baba...that's right... Baba. Cold, thin, and weak, she saw him huddled in a cell. Bemoaning her name. Wallowing in his devastation. Baba, who'd been beaten and taken for ransom because of her wish. How furious he must be...no is.

She recoiled at the memory of that horrible night. The broken furniture, the mocking threats, her Baba's disappointment...his disgust. Her hands reached up in her trance and grabbed onto the star's arm. Metallic fingers scuffed the spirling emblem on his vambrace.

Holding on for dear life, her mind reeled. She would make Baba proud again. He would smile when he saw her. He would embrace her as family. He would finally understand. Because she could fix it. She could fix everything. There was still time...always time...to make things right. She was getting her grandfather out of that pit. She may not have been able to save Dahlia, but she was not going to lose anyone else. That was a promise.

Coming back to the present, she let go of her living anchor, and sloshed away into the abyss. The star followed after, keeping his peace in lieu of the thorns coiling closer and closer around the girl's heart.

It didn't take long for the pair to switch positions. Nigh impassible, the passage was crooked and pitch black in the widest stretches. The star's dull light didn't do much, but it was enough to avoid the submerged mine carts and collapsed scaffolding. Though the scattering of pickaxes and other tools was another problem. Every time Asha's metal-clad foot met one of these submerged treasures, she was thankful for their disguise.

The further they wandered, the more her anxiety grew. Had they missed a turn? Or an entrance? How could they tell when they were under the dungeon? What if they had passed it?

But her whirling thoughts quieted when stars started appearing around them. Hundreds of little lights flashed their faceted edges in the passing golden glow. They were gemstones, lighting up the velvet void. Quartz and citrine showed the way. Left abandoned like the rest of the mine. They were worthless when stardust could create their perfect twin.

Along the glimmering way, the floor beneath them started to drift up. The incline incredibly slight, it nonetheless helped to drain the water away from their slow-moving feet. After a time, sodden metal clanged against dry ground. Renewed in their quest, they pressed forward. Minus some moderate slipping and sliding, which had them crawling up the slope where purchase was dodgy.

Sol held tight to the girl's hand, helping her fight against her heavy armor. Which was very much crushing against her at the moment. The thought to release the illusion came to mind, but she held fast to the spell despite her discomfort. Metal scrapped along stone as they edged along. Her heart beating in rhythm with her thoughts.

Rescue Baba, disenchant Yemma, depose the king, capture the queen, save Rosas.... save Rosas...

The ceiling pitched downward as the tunnel narrowed. Their crawling became dragging, chests skimming along the floor as stalactites raked their back. Asha started to feel lightheaded, her quickening breaths burning through the shrinking pockets of air. She couldn't stand it! Her limbs screamed with every slide forward. How much longer under the press of rocks? How much further until it ended? Before they lodged themselves so tight, that they would never escape?! Claustrophobia clawed at her. She had to get out of here. She had to get air. She had to run.... run....

NO! Rescue Baba.... Disenchant Yemma.... Depose the king.... Capture the queen.... Save Rosas.... Rescue Baba...

In the dark, a horrid thought crystallized. There was no way Dahlia could have made it through here. Not in her condition. The magician's stomach contorted as it pressed against the cracked ground. Maybe her friend had known that too. She bit her trembling lip. Her lungs too constricted to sob, her cheeks were inflamed with tears she couldn't shed.

But she kept going. Tailing after the boy, who himself was floundering. She could see where the rocks sparked around his shoulders. The iron, already dented, took on new wounds.

"H-how much further?" her warbling voice enveloped them in the quiet.

"Ummm..." Sol squinted ahead. His light petered. Well, that was wonderful...just great. The gloom was impenetrable, inky black stretched as far as he could see. Sensing the girl's anxiety leap, he lied, "Not very far at all. Maybe a few meters?"

A tense hum answered.

The star swallowed back nerves. Come on, there had to be a way out of this! Somewhere in this needle-thin passage there was an exit. And he hoped it was soon, he wasn't optimistic about the girl's patience.

They moved further, centimeters taking minutes. Oh, he was tired of this! He wanted to take his helmet off! But there wasn't enough room to maneuver his shoulders. Let alone his arms! He could barely see through the visor. Old cruddy thing that it was! Ugh, why had he summoned such a disguise. It was so bulky, unnecessary and-

His head plowed into the small door before he saw it. The wood old, and dry rotted, he went straight through. Asha yelped at the sound, watching the boy disappear up to his neck.

The bits of debris tumbling away, he watched them hit the floor with a grin.

"Asha, I think I found it! Told you it was only a bit further!" The star punched out the rest of the door, pulling himself into the new cavern. The magician was plunged into darkness before his head popped back up. Helmet-less, he was framed in the narrow exit, "It's not that far a drop, come on!"

"You're not flying.... are you?"

"Of course not! It can't be more than five feet down," his armored hand was laid in front of her, "It's alright, trust me."

Her mantra fresh on her mind, she clasped the rough metal and was lifted out into the small room. For a second she floated. His hands against her as he led her down. But in a blink, it was over. Her feet firm on the ground, the boy's hands flew away.

The room wasn't very wide, maybe ten paces across. But the star used every bit of that space. Distancing himself, he waited for his hands to stop shaking.

"So, what now?" Asha gulped, looking around the small area. Nothing particularly stood out about it, besides that fact that she could stand upright. Something that her aching shoulders were happy about, though her numb legs begged to differ.

"Well...ehm..."

If Sol could've sweat, he'd have filled buckets. Sky above, he had to get ahold of himself! He couldn't stop the trembling. The star braced his hands against the low ceiling, bouncing from his heels to the balls of his feet.

"I-"

"Tile!" the girl shouted, her voice booming in the cramped room. Sol jumped at the sudden noise.

"Excuse me?"

Asha's grinned, pointing ecstatically at where his hands rested, "Slate tile!"

He looked up, observing the thin lines that separated one square from the other. His light shined through the gaps. Holding his breath, he lifted. The stone came free. Scraping against its neighbors, it was shoved away. Distant coughing and muffled voices filtered down to them. Giving each other a swift nod, the pair climbed up into the dungeon.

The first thing that hit Asha was the smell. The fetid stench of stale urine and dried blood mingled into something unfathomable. Her hands clamped tight over her nose to block out the horrid scent. But it was to no avail. Human waste from decades past lay embedded in the hay hastily thrown about to sop up what it could. Some of the messes it hid were fresh, though she didn't care to linger on that fact. Breathing through her mouth, she tasted it too.

The room as dark as a tomb, the small murmurs were the only indication of life beyond the shadowy veil. By the faint light of her companion, the girl found a torch. Cool to the touch, she yanked it from its fitting. Stardust as her accelerant, a whisper brought the flames to life. Licking at the walls around them, they outpaced the star's glow in their violent dance. Shadows, skewed and awkward, were thrown over the dense block of cells. Hushed voices rose in panic.

"Soldiers...the soldiers have returned."

"Quiet, quiet now!"

"Don't let 'em catch you lookin'."

The pair shared a glance. Though the star's helmet had been left behind, his illumination did nothing to assuage the chatter. The boy took the torch from her and held it high, bringing the hallway further into its light. Rats ran from the expanding circle, their little rodent eyes shining from the inky curtain beyond.

"How 'bout some food then, huh?" a rugged voice rose above the mumbling mess. A chorus of shushes and hissed warnings replied, but the man kept going, "Left here to starve, have we? Or has the king offered us his customary crust of bread?"

"We're not-"

"Are there any of our number down here?" Sol interrupted her.

A muddled bit of conversation took place. Prisoners rasping around dry tongues. But no answer came.

"I said, are there any more of the king's men down here with you?"

"No senor!" a younger voice called out. A boy, Asha realized as she heard the worried voice of his mother quiet him. A child...what on earth was a child doing in a place like this?

Exactly what a one-hundred-year-old man is doing. Rotting.

She shuddered at the thought.

"Excellent, then I'm happy to tell you that we're not soldiers."

A fair amount of smirks peppered the darkness.

"We're looking for a man by the name of Sabino," the magician spoke up.

More muttering and hissing.

"We will free you all if you just let us know where he is!"

"A likely tale!" the same gruff voice challenged, "I wouldn't trust you conniving lot if my life depended on it."

Gritting her teeth, the girl let the spell go. The armor disintegrating to sand, she smacked her stardust brushed hand against the nearest door.

"Bař!"

It sprung open. Grabbing Sol's arm, she pulled him over to cast light into the unlocked hold. Seeing the cluster of bodies within, she fought to keep from retching. Crammed together were emaciated forms. Eyes sunken and limbs shrunken, they appeared ghostly in the flare of the torch. One shoved up against the other, looking closer, she recognized some in the crush were already deceased. But her grandfather's face was not among them.

"You're free," she announced before continuing to the next cell and doing the same. Her eyes combed the desperate faces, each time coming up with nothing. Her brain filtered out the bleak sights that met her. She couldn't dwell on it. If she did, she would surely lose herself to the horror. No, she was looking for Baba...only Baba. Armed with his memory, all the other gaunt things were shadows. She would think of them later.... figure something out once this whole mess was done...yes...but right now she had to focus. She had someone to save.

People from all areas of the city passed before her. Careful in their movements, they unfolded themselves from their prison. Skeletal, they stood, all weeping sores and broken bones. They limped away from the light that scorched their eyes. Too adjusted to the darkness to look upon an artifact of the living.

In the midst of the girl's urgency, the star whispered directions to the freed prisoners. He could only send them through the way they had entered. It may have been treacherous and tight, but it would take them to freedom. He told them as much but in very few words. Muttered thanks and blessings followed as they marched toward their salvation. A sea of bodies flowing against the pair as they continued to empty the dungeon.

The further they went, the less people they encountered. Until the girl flung open the furthest cell in the lot. Terribly small, it was no better than a ditch with its earthen walls and decaying floor. But upon the firelight washing over it, a familiar shape curled away.

"Baba!" she cried, racing toward him in a flurry of skirts. She wrapped her arms around his brittle body, feeling him quake under her touch.

"Mi-Mijita," a garbled voice spat out, "what are you doing here?"

She hugged him tighter, "Oh Baba, I'm so sorry! I'm going to get you out! Everybody else has gone from here. Come, we-" she drew away, her tongue stalling as the flame caught the bloated curves of his face.

His complexion was purple and red. Both eyes swollen shut, she saw them dart beneath threaded slits. Dried blood stained his mouth. His nose smashed flat, he drew air through his split lips. Each breath displayed shattered teeth. She could only imagine how ruined the rest of his body was. How many more bruises? How many more broken bones? How much more blood?

She shook.

"Who did this to you?"

"The soldiers...." His breath was long and wet, "...they tried.... tried...to...get me to...speak..." his broken jaw shaped itself into an approximation of a smile, "...but those fools...didn't know.... who they were...up.... against...."

"Baba..."

"I-I've had worse scrapes.... with...p...pi.... pirates.... heh...heh..." he lurched forward. There was a wretched cough. It went off like a cannonade in the dungeon. The very stones vibrated. Asha cried his name, but the old man shook his head. Blind, his withered fingers felt the air until they found her cheek, "M-mijita," red spittle formed at the corners of his mouth, "leave this place..." he sucked in air, "...take your mother.... take her...to the boat....and leave..."

"No, Baba. I've come to rescue you!"

"Asha.... listen to me...for...once!"

"I only want to help you!"

"And help me you did!" his craggily voice thundered, his loving gesture dropped. After a pause, he wheezed, "didn't you?"

The words were poison. The girl gulped, grasping his bloodied shirt, "Baba..."

"You...you let that man.... that snake.... infect you...damn your stardust, damn his favor.... damn the whole island.... he takes...all he does is take...." His battered eyes glistened, wet.

She had to look away. Hoarse, she whispered, "All I ever wanted to do was make you happy. I wanted you to have money...means-"

"Mijita.... I was born in rags....and will happily die...in rags," He found his granddaughter's hand and squeezed, "There is...no shame...in...poverty. There is no shame...in...how.... we were. Our life.... our life was.... wonderful. We were...happy.... but you.... you were.... embarrassed!"

"No-"

"You were!"

"I nev-"

"Wielding...stardust.... doesn't mean you...deserve more.... or should give.... less. It just means.... that you're...different. Your father understood that.... I wish...you did," his body was ravaged by another fit. Asha rushed to support him, but Sabino powered through the pain.

"L-listen to me..." his voice warbled, blood trickled down his chin, "I promised my son...that I would keep his secret...that I...wouldn't let you...carry...the guilt," his face was pain, "but.... you need...to know...."

"Know what?"

The old man's head rolled to regard someone past his granddaughter. Staring into space, a throaty chuckle escaped his lips, "Ah...I suppose you're...here too...joven.... well then..." his next breath was a struggle, "I wish.... I wish.... for you to take her...far.... far...from this place ...... I beg....." A gasp, "...it's the least you can do.... consider it...my final wish."

"Baba!" Asha stroked his feeble hand, "Baba, surely you exaggerate!"

The star paled, kneeling beside Asha, the torch fizzled out against the ground. Leaving only his feeble illumination to highlight Sabino's grim visage.

"Senor, what do you wish to tell us?"

The grandfather's laugh was coarse. Nodding in the direction of the boy, he began, "My son was a good man.... far better than the...peacock...he called his friend..." he let out a pained hiss. Asha started to reach for him, but Sol stayed her hand. The old man collected himself and continued, "Five years ago...when the pox came to...our shores.... from the continent....my son was scared...." He swallowed, "...he...he had seen how destructive it was....he'd been there for...those...wishes....people begging...weeping....beseeching the king to save them...their children....but he never did," a grunt, "the cost too great...t-that's what he said...heh....well...Tomás knew about that book of his....so he went, asking his friend for help....he had a young family....after all."

The star's hand tightened against Asha's shoulder.

"And his friend helped....with glee...he gave him the spell...the one that would shield his family...from the disease..." he croaked, "I-I'm sure the king knew that my son was planning...to leave," irony laid thick in his voice, "...couldn't have him traveling...telling secrets....spreading magic...no," he spat, "...I found him that night...staring down into the well....with stardust covering his hands....he tried to hide it from me....but I knew....." A hack, then bloody phlegm, "...never trusted magic....so I convinced him to ask...the stars...first..." he stopped to catch his breath, "...We took the boat...and rowed....far....so.....far.....but no stars heard us....I kept him out there until dawn....and nothing....I begged him again to wait....and he listened.....we went out the next night.....and nothing," his face twisted, "again I asked him to wait....and again he agreed.....but....but...." His head listed to the side, "You had developed a cough....mijita..."

Her stomach plummeted. Her memory catching up with the story.

".... he couldn't wait any longer.... I tried.... oh.... I tried to get him to wait...just a bit longer...." He sucked air, ".... but he couldn't.... we went.... once more.... but..... nothing......"

A bitter aura was enveloping the man. One that Sol had become accustomed to. But now, as it multiplied threefold, his insides flipped end over end. He bit back the sick that threatened at the back of his throat.

".....he never told me...when he cast the spell. But....the next day....he arrived home...very.....very...tired. The day.....after that.....he collapsed," his words died in a moan. Quivering jowls struggled, "....I....I...became ill....shortly after......." He swallowed, saliva leaking from his crooked jaw, "...you.....you....mijita....sprang back.....yours....was just.....a cold.....I......I was the one.....with....the pox...." Words broke, ".....the day....my son....died.....I got better," tears streamed down his bruised cheeks, "....he....he saved an old man....one who'd...had enough life," a sob cracked harsh against his broken ribs, "I should have.....I should....have....tried harder....to save...my....boy."

"No Baba!" Asha's quivering hands tried to brush away his tears, "Y-you did what you could.... you-"

"And...and I continued....to fail him," he grieved, "....it was...a blessing...that you couldn't.....replicate....your father's talent. I thought....for sure......you would be spared.....but no...." He choked, his lungs drowning in fluid, "you...found...a way.....and that man....that man..........is going....to take another...." Sabino struggled to breath, gasping through his shriveled esophagus. His lips turning blue, he perspired in the dim light. His head sagged.

The magician's hands framed his face, "Baba?!"

"Mijita!" brittle fingers wrapped around her wrist. Tight in their death grip, the old man forced his swollen lids open. Bloodshot and faded, the embers burned low, "Run....run far...from this place."

"Wait!"

"Trust....trust....in...the stars........"

He went limp, staring into eternity.

"Baba?"

This wasn't real.

"Baba?!"

This was a dream.

A nightmare.

She wasn't pleading with her grandfather's empty eyes.

She wasn't searching for a heartbeat.

"Baba...please...."

She wasn't cradling a dead body.

She wasn't-

"Asha," Sol's hand was warm against her back, his voice gentle, "I'm sorry...."

Hurricane.... she was in the hurricane again. Howling wind and driving rain. Falling through the frigid sea. No boat...no boat...only water.... she was drowning. She couldn't breathe. Screaming, but mute. Hysterical, but frozen solid. Then pins and needles. Pins and needles running along her veins. Numbing her limbs, numbing her tongue, numbing her brain.

Steady fingers closed his eyes. Sturdy arms laid him down. A strong voice led his soul to peace. Bowing her head over him, the thorns that grew in her sharpened. Tightening, squeezing, strangling, until they punctured her heart.

He did this. The king. He took everything from her. Her father, her mother, and now her grandfather. That man who locked himself away in his palace...that coward.... that murderer!

He would pay.

He would suffer.

He would burn.

The boy saw the tar that leached from her and recoiled, "Asha?"

"Give me the arrow," her voice hollow.

"Asha..."

She swung around, "GIVE ME THE ARROW!"

The star's face darkened. Standing up, he backed away, "I'm not doing that."

She leapt at him, her hand clawing at the armor that he still wore, "GIVE IT TO ME!"

"I SAID NO!" both hands were on her. Firm, they pinned her against the moldy wall. His expression was frightening. A wildfire personified, he spoke in a voice that could move mountains, "I'm not letting you do this."

"Oh," smoke slithered from her wicked lips, "You're in my head again, I see," she met the blaze head on, "Then we're on the same page."

"You're not thinking clearly!"

She laughed, cold and abrasive, "Didn't you tell me to make a decision? 'Stick by it,' you said. Well, I have," she leaned close, "You agreed that death was the only way to stop him."

"It's a job for the stars."

"Hang the stars! They're too busy anyways," her teeth were daggers, "Too busy to help my father, and too inept," her gaze eviscerated him, "to help me."

His nostrils flared, "That's enough. This has gone too far."

"Ah..." hers was a sigh of dry leaves, "I suppose everything has gone wrong.... hasn't it," she snickered, "guess you're taking it aaallll back."

"Yes, I am."

"Go ahead," she grimaced, "but that won't stop me. Powers or no powers, I will end his reign. At all costs."

"Asha, you'll get yourself killed."

"So?" she challenged, her grin manic, "Why should you care? I'm just another girl."

He clenched his teeth, "What about your mother-"

"Whose mind is scattered to the wind? She died the night the king visited," she sneered, "That man took everything from us-"

The star shook his head, "You're not a murderer, Asha."

"Watch me."

The boy searched her embittered expression in vain. She was all barbs and brambles. A knotted, ugly, mess. Desperate, he tried to reassemble what she had been. He remembered when her face wasn't so cruel. When she had smiled. When she had laughed. When she had danced. He held her there, so familiar, yet vacant.

He exhaled; he couldn't let her wish get out of control. This was the right thing to do. The correct thing. It would be easy, and quick. He only had to take it back. Take. It. Back. But as he held her hazel glare, he lost his nerve.

"Fine," his hands fell to his sides, "Get your revenge," he hissed, "But don't expect me to help you. I've had my fill of killing kings."

Her eyes narrowed as she moved from the wall. Getting terribly close, he watched her face distort, "Running away like you always do. Go ahead, tell your brother. He always cleans up your messes, doesn't he?"

He was stoic, staring at the wall. The space between them in tatters, she quickly left him behind. He listened to every footfall as she traveled. Her steps sure, but slow, she traced the wall as she went. Thirty paces forward, turn left, then...

She came upon a dead end. Exactly as Dahlia had said. Fingers skipped over the bricks she found there. Five to the right, two up, then one to the left...there! She pulled on the brittle stone. Something clunked. Slithering through the thin crawl space that opened, she was gone as rock rasped against rock.

In the dark, Sol looked upon the dead man.

His fists clenched, with a wild yell his iron boot hit the wall in a cacophonous clang. He had done it again. Like he always did.

Another kick.

A screw up, a klutz, a mistake. Everything he tried turned out the same way. Anger, fire, death.

His head met the wall.

His fault...all his fault. He should have never left the sky. Fool he was to believe that he could be anything more than an embarrassment. He closed his eyes, letting himself fall into the void. No sight, no sound, no feeling. Only black and turbulent thoughts.

He should go back. Even if he couldn't find his way to Rosas, he was sure his brother would piece something together. He would make it right...he always made things right. Well, as right as they could be. Then he would fulfill Polaris's expectations. He'd be the idiot little brother, always messing up, running to his older sibling for help. How it always had been and always would be. It was futile to change. He'd be sky bound whichever way it turned out, so why try? It would be so much easier to keep playing his role.

And yet.... something inside him pulled. A thread yanked from its spindle, it unspooled. Running along the dirty floor, it wound around the corner and slid beyond the wall. It slipped past parts unknown, through hallways unseen, attached to the girl marching to her end.

"Dammit, Asha," he inhaled sharp before turning on his heel and following after.

The way was filled with cobwebs and dust. Torn apart by the magician as she had blazed through the space between walls. Past the crawlspace, up the rickety stairs, and through a heavy door, he eventually found himself falling out of a bookshelf. A bit dazed, his armor finally evaporated as he stared up at the ceiling. His head spinning, he pulled himself up and carried on. If using stardust made him ill, then the sudden loss of it nearly made him faint.

Again...faint again, he remembered with a wince.

He placed a faded hand against the wall. Steadying himself as he went. He was a sight; his feet not walking quite right, his head not staying in one place, his guts more outside than in. Struggling to keep his breathing steady, he tried picking up on the girl's path. Looking into this room then that. Trying a hallway here...a doorway there. Everything was silent. Not a guard walked these massive halls, nor staff bustled through opulent rooms. He ran into barricades, boarded up windows, locked doors. Where was she? Why couldn't he find her? The string pulled, and pulled, and pulled. But all he found were dead ends, blocked ways, empty places. The castle had become a labyrinth, butchered beyond recognition. A proper keep for the monster it protected.

He kept going, walking, hoping. Finally, he came upon a gallery of some sort, lined with numerous suits of armor. Laden in shadows, they almost appeared to be living. Eyeing it with some trepidation, all uncertainty cleared when he could see light at the end of the long passage.

The main hall.

He chuckled as he marched forward. He had found it! Yes, he knew the way now! A bit further...only a bit. He could make it, no problem. The thread tugged, more insistent. Asha was close, he knew-

A sword met his throat.

Eyes of glass shined over the empty suit's shoulder.

"Where do you think you're going, niño?" the king mocked.

Chapter Text

Where is he?

Asha bolted through the castle. Stardust sizzled against her skin.

Where is he?

Routes blocked were thrown open with a word.

Where is he?

Footsteps harsh and clipped, echoed. Tossed around high ceilings.

Devoid of life, empty rooms stretched on forever. Each door forced open to find furniture thrown under hasty sheets, walls bare of their tapestries, fireplaces bricked up. Anything of value had been spirited away to some secret place. One that only the king knew. The girl growled and slammed the door after finding much of the same.

Wandering the upper levels, one would easily mistake this place for abandoned. The hallways which spiraled around the structure, fanning out in their feathery construction, all yielded the same results. Nicely sorted and locked up.

From wing to wing she stalked, fury incarnate. Carefully ticking off where he wasn't, her options were becoming fewer and fewer.

Beating heart. Beating head. Her vision was red.

More stardust.

A stairwell was revealed. Tucked away, and horribly thin. It was maybe two feet wide.

More stardust.

She climbed two, three, steps at a time. She stumbled into a cavernous hallway. The walls stark and white without their paintings. She marched, blowing out the doors nearest. A small study.

Empty.

More stardust.

Thick wood cracked. A library, full of barren shelves.

Empty

More stardust.

On she went, growing more enraged with every step she took. Her rhythm of shattered wood and bitter taunts not breaking for a second.

"Come on out, you coward!" she called.

"You monster!"

"You wretch!"

"You impostor!"

But she went unanswered.

"Come on! Come and get me! I'm ready for you!"

Nothing.

Breathing hard, she finally found herself staring down the carefully carved doors of the throne room. Huge silver handles glinted, transforming her reflection into something serpentine. Snarling, her glittering hands struck the ornate wood and they crashed inward. Hanging broken off battered hinges, they fell to the floor, cracking the marble underneath. No guards met her as she entered. The room dim, heavy curtains were drawn and tethered. Makeshift barriers stood before them, reinforcing the shrouded arcade. Not a whisper of wind blew through that room. All was stagnant and stale. A self-made prison. Dark except for the golden light that filtered across the polished floor and licked at her feet. The mural wiped away, the entrance to the secret room was open.

She had found him.

She couldn't feel the ground beneath her as she charged into the tower. The well still flowed, stardust falling in its continuous slope, touching upon the immaculate room. Not an item was out of place from the last time the girl had studied there. The columns of green ledgers still lined the shelves around the golden spill. Reaching to the heavens, they hid names. Multitudes of victims both future and past. The hundreds, no...thousands of which he had brought to ruin. And under the soaring list of his sins, stood the man silhouetted in the symbol of his power. Clad in white, he cut the image of one divine. She tasted blood.

Her tongue slid back, ready to attack.

"To what do I owe this visit?"

Interrupted, the girl's vile words fell back down her throat. The king kept his back to her.

"What? Are you shy now?" his voice worked on her, its cadence making the earth tilt, "With all that shouting you were doing, I thought-"

"Your reign is over," Asha's voice rushed the unmoving figure. Cold and sharp, he didn't even shiver.

Laughter rolled from him, crashing into her like ocean waves, "What, are you going to kill me little girl?" his head turned to the side, his profile disfigured by a cat-like grin, "I'd like to see you try."

She launched. Lightening trailed her as she called forth the storm.

"IM!"

Yellow and blue, electricity snaked across the floor. It was a stream of death flowing around her legs, shocking her cheeks, singing against her fingers. She felt new scars etch themselves into her palms, but pain was far away. Arching around column and sparking against tile, it stopped short of the man. A cobra reeling back to strike, it fell upon the monarch, burning the air as it dropped.

But it didn't touch him. With a lazy wave, the tempest spun and rolled toward the girl. Screaming, she leapt to the side, but not before the snapping tongues wrapped around her calves. Her muscles convulsed, stretching much too far then curling impossibly tight. She watched the tendons in her hands dance as blue light shot through them. She fell like a tree, shaking in the midst of her reflected attack. Her heart taking a second to find its beat.

"Well," the cold voice shattered the silence, stiff boots clicking in their slow stride, "that was anticlimactic."

She raised her head, so heavy on her neck. Her tongue felt bloated and limp in her mouth, "Die."

The stones buckled underneath Magnifico's feet. Tumbling to the floor below. He looked down, bemused. Lifting his other foot like he was simply climbing stairs, he stepped out of the collapsed section. Escaping before the pit could swallow him. His pace never paused as he continued to approach her. His eyes flashing green.

"Get back!" she screamed.

His leg sank into quicksand. Snorting at the parlor trick, a snap dried the wet earth, and he pulled himself free, "Really, now this is getting tedious."

The magician dragged herself back. Her legs wouldn't move....why wouldn't they move? He kept coming closer. Her hand plunged into her pocket. Stardust sparked. But it was pulled out before she could grasp it. The man leered down at her. A wicked grin stretched across his face as he wrenched her arm up. She stifled a yelp, shoulder blades bent the wrong way.

"There now," his voice made her skin crawl, "We can talk."

There was the sound of cracking, then one fatal pop as the ground underneath her opened up. She let her scream out then. Having a horrid second of free fall before it was stopped by the monarch's stranglehold on her wrist. Her shoulder tore against bone as gravity grabbed at her ankles. Swinging in the empty air, she stared into blackness. Sure that she would fall into oblivion if the monster let her go. Looking back up at him, she was certain that was his goal.

His head cocked to the side, "Are we going to be better behaved?"

Asha glared.

"Good," he sneered, "Now why do I have the...displeasure...of speaking with you today?"

Something was off in the way his mouth formed the words. The tightness of his expression, the tempo of his voice, but she couldn't place it. She kept her silence.

The king frowned. Letting his fingers loosen, she dropped a few terrifying centimeters before his hand grasped hers.

"I want answers," he hissed.

Reeling in the explosive pain blooming along her spine, she looked up through watery eyes. She was ready to call him a murderer, a traitor, a thief...until she saw the hand that suffocated hers. It was strong and full. The dominant hand that had shriveled into something ancient, was no longer. Dismay creeping through her anger, wide eyes answered his interrogation.

"Who are you?"

The monarch pouted, "Now look at what you've done," he sighed, "Gone and ruined the game."

That was when the snake leapt from his sleeve and bit her.

She screamed. Venom racing through her blood. Red hot tendrils dissolving muscle, eviscerating sinew. Colors danced as she was pulled from the hole and thrown across the room. She collided with a column. Her head snapped back. Stars flashed brilliant before her eyes as new pain flowered. She slumped over, feeling the blood trickle down her neck. Breathing shallow, she looked down at her trembling hand. The puncture wounds wept death. She felt the inferno devouring her. Inch by excruciating inch, her heart pumped the toxin further into her body. Hearing a melodious laugh, her eyes rose to witness the queen shed her disguise.

The pit mended itself as the woman knelt in front of the girl. Sharp nails dug into Asha's cheeks, "Silly thing," she chuckled, leaning close, "Did you really think that you could triumph over me? I have eons on you, A-sha dear." The snake coiling around her slender wrist, she waved it before the girl. A sadistic smile splitting her warm features, "An asp," she purred, enjoying how the magician's eyes darted, "it was enough to kill Cleopatra, it'll be more than enough to kill you," it vanished in a shower of stardust, "Unless," the corners of her mouth twitched, "you tell me where the star is."

The girl spat, the gob of saliva hitting the queen's smooth cheek. Her lips shifting into a snarl, she backhanded the deceitful thing.

Asha's head impacted the marble again. She swallowed a cry. She would not give her the satisfaction. She met those frigid eyes head on, hate lighting on every word, "You...you killed people. Made them suffer. Gave them hope, only to take it all away! For five hundred years, you let them think you were granting their wishes!"

"Oh," Amaya conjured up an exaggerated expression of pity. Her bottom lip stuck out so far that the magician wished to rip it from her wicked face. But every time she tried to move her arms, they laid limp, "We're being altruistic are we?"

"You're vile!"

"You think you're better, niña? You think you're so kind and well meaning?"

She scowled at the horrid woman.

"Feh," the queen flicked away the imaginary argument, "poppycock and nonsense! I suppose you would have abstained from the tournament if you didn't have a family to protect, right?" The last word drawn out far longer than it needed to be.

Air hissed through Asha's clenched teeth. Her diminishing lungs becoming heavier with each breath.

"All humans are the same. Hungry for power. Desiring it for different reasons but always desiring it. Always making a mess of things. And my, you've made quite the mess little one. If it wasn't for you, none of this...unpleasantness would have happened."

"No..." the magician struggled, "...you....you closed...the.......ports-"

"Only after you brought home a star!" Eyes widened, showing veiny whites, "Was it necessary A-sha? Did you really need the apprenticeship? Did you really need to wish on a star? Were you really helping anyone? Because as far as I can see," the woman's hand was around her throat, "you were only doing it for yourself."

The girl wheezed, "You...you began...all of this....escaping.......stealing the book....you created this....nightmare."

The woman shook her head, an cruel smile pressed on her lips, "Ah, but people were happy, they had full bellies, they had work. For five hundred years we have thrived...until you decided to ruin everything."

"No..."

"Now, you have a choice. You can make this all end by telling me where the star is....or," her smile widened, "you can do everyone a favor and die before you cause any more unhappiness."

The girl's mind spun off-kilter. No, this wasn't how it was supposed to go! She was supposed to be the one mocking...tormenting. She should be making the king bend to her will. Make him regret all the ills he had wrought on this island...on her. But here she was, slowly dying while his wife spat miserable things.

No...not just things...reality.

The blaze spread further. She could feel it moving through her abdomen. Punching holes through her stomach, her intestines. How pathetic she was. Her fight hadn't even lasted five minutes! Overpowered and humiliated, she sat there. She hadn't been able to keep her family together. She hadn't been able to save her grandfather. She hadn't even been able to keep the king's favor. She was an embarrassment...oh, how her father would be ashamed! How could she ever have dreamt that she'd rise past his shadow? His legacy was too enormous for her to overcome. And now his untalented idiot of a daughter couldn't even avenge his death, nor the death of his own father. Her Baba, which she had sent to his demise. Yes....it had been her fault...all her fault. If she had listened to her grandfather, he'd still be alive. If she'd never gotten on that boat, if she had never wished, if she had never competed.

The ports would be open. Rosas would be prosperous. And she....and she....

Her eyes shut. Drenched in sweat, she lamented. Oh wretched thing she was! It had been her doing...this whole time...she'd doomed those she loved. She wanted to cry, to wail, but all that slipped through her lips was a moan. Her body locking up, the venom cut away at her nerve endings until all she felt was fire.

Was it worth it? Had she done anything great? Anything to be proud of?

I don't know.

"Have you made your choice?" the queen's cool tones broke through her spiraling thoughts.

The girl's head drifted away, her glassy eyes focusing on the floor beyond.

"Fine then," the creature snarled, standing up, "Go ahead and die-"

The wall blew apart.

A figure catapulting through, it tumbled amidst fragmented masonry...until it stopped and knelt upon the obliterated marble. Golden hair glinting in the light of the fountain.

Sol!

"So, it is true!" the king waltzed through the Sol-shaped hole, adjusting the glove that hid his withered hand, "No sword is sharp enough to cut you, nor impact strong enough to break your bones," he grasped a fist full of hair and pulled the boy's head up, "What else shall we try?"

"I don't know," the star smirked, "Maybe a good old-fashioned stoning."

"Insolent-"

"Cariño!"

The pair looked over, shocked out of their battle.

"Ah, mi amore!" Magnifico rumbled, noticing the ailing girl, "My, you have been busy."

The star went white, "Asha."

The queen folded her hands behind her. Sauntering toward the boy, she leaned over him, her braided hair slithering down his neck, "Long time no see, Solaris."

But the boy didn't hear her. He couldn't. All he saw was Asha. Poor, sick, Asha. And how gray she was. And how she heaved, no....gasped, for air.

Oh Andromeda, she was -

"Asha!"

A burst of stardust summoned wind and threw the royal pair from him.

He stumbled toward the girl. Cursing his unbalanced legs, his spinning head. He was too slow. Too weak....too...late...

NO!

Falling before her, his hands cradled her cheeks. No, it wasn't possible. She couldn't be. Not now. It was too soon.

"Asha..."

She was awash in blistering agony. Her flesh was bubbling, peeling where he touched. She swore she was melting in his hands. Coming apart in ribbons. Layer by excruciating layer, she was ceasing to be. Oh, please just have it end! Every breath was full of glass, every heartbeat another coal thrown on the bonfire. Please...oh...please....she couldn't take it anymore!

He brushed away the hair that had fallen over her eyes. Whisper light, it was a knife carving into her face.

"Oh Asha, what hap-"

"You lovesick fool!" Magnifico called, "You make this too easy!"

A chain wrapped around Sol's ankle and yanked him away. He called out her name again, breaking on the last syllable. The king dragged him back, forcing a heavy boot into his stomach, he sneered, "Are we finally going to have a proper fight?"

The boy screamed, primal and raw. His eyes catching fire, the ceiling above the king fractured then collapsed. Glass, metal, and marble folded, bent, melted against the next, condensing, sharpening, falling...falling...falling. Death bore down upon the monarch, the spear of twisted masonry rushed to split the man in twain. And the king gazed upon this fast-approaching reaper, smiling.

"Fantastic!" he whooped, his hands extending above him, the mess of shattered glass and granite slowed. The point pressed firm then stalled against his palm, cutting through the glove and drawing blood. The man cackled, taking hold of the massive structure, he brought it down on the boy like a hammer.

But as the conglomeration broke apart, the star was not amidst its debris. Looking around, he caught something in his periphery. Spinning, he saw Sol leaping through the fountain fall. Rejuvenated and ablaze in gold, the boy came down upon the ruler. His sword the color of oblivion, he slashed at the king. Magnifico slid out of its path. The blade missed and cleaved through the floor. Slicing away time and space to leave a tear of nothingness in its wake.

"Now that's more like it!" the man laughed, grabbing hold of the tear and tossing it at the star like a disk.

Sol leapt over the attack and brought down his sword again. But its killing stroke was captured by a sheet of ice, the man's face taunting from beyond with its goading smirk and mad eyes, distorted by all the whirls of frozen water.

Cursing the coward, the flames in the star's eyes caught his hair alight, ran along his skin, and danced upon his sword's blade. The ice hissed and bowed to his will. The fissure widened. Almost. He was close....nearly there....

"You really ought to pay attention!"

A marble, grown to astronomical proportions, bowled into the star from behind. Crushing him under its weight and shattering the ice beneath.

Magnifico snickered at his handiwork. In his self-congratulation, he glimpsed his wife. Her lips upturned; she regarded him with warmth. Perfect creature she was, framed in the sunlight bleeding through the caved in roof high above. Ay, what a lucky man he...

...he...

Long fingers pulled at his coller, figited with it, loosened it...aye...he was hot.Boiling even! How....could....

He looked down. The floor was bubbling. Turning a deep shade of crimson, like metal upon a forge....

Sol soared through the vaporized tile. Right above the king, his sword plunged toward that royal brow. But centimeters from victory, a massive jaguar tackled him. Red eyes filled his vision. Thudding against the floor on the other side of the room, the enormous cat started clawing at him. Though its nails did nothing more than shred his shirt.

Magnifico breathed in the closeness of the moment, glancing again at his beloved he muttered, "Thanks."

"You could afford to be more careful mi rey!"

He waved away her concern, watching with intense interest as the beast bit down on the star's neck.

Sol tried to pry himself from the animal. But it was immovable. Baring his teeth, he wrapped his arms around its neck. Smothering it, it shrank in his embrace until it was nothing more than an ordinary house cat. Throwing the small creature aside, he launched again. His blade ready, it swung wide. With a shuddering clank, one of the king's blasted suits of armor caught it. Stardust sizzled upon impact, hairline fractures forming over the opposing blade. But the metal puppet held firm. Sol saw the weakness and smiled.

"You're through."

Magnifico's tongue clicked, shaking his head, "Ah, I wouldn't be so careless if I were you, niño. I die," he nodded toward Asha, "so does she."

The boy's grip tightened against his hilt, "What did you do to her?"

"It was nothing he did," the queen purred, hanging over the star's shoulder, "Twas a snake."

Eyes wild, the boy broke with the suit. His black blade tearing into the room and toward the jeering queen.

"NO!"

His sword glanced off a wall of diamond.

"I would much prefer if you left my wife out of this."

"Very well," the boy spat death. Turning back, he found the king had vanished. In his place, and wherever he looked, he was ringed with multitudes of different armor. Other colors, other kingdoms, other continents, all were present and ready for battle. Weapons drawn; he faced an iron circle. His foot sliding behind him for support, he growled, "Cheater."

"Only the victor can decide that little star."

Armor from the East came charging. Sol stepped away from its harsh slash. Pivoting tight, he brought his blade down on the puppet's back. The empty suit convulsed before folding in on itself and disappearing into the void. A chorus of jangling metal followed. The boy turned just in time to leap over two knights from the British Isles. A mace cracked the ground underfoot, while the longsword swept only centimeters below his suspended feet. Somersaulting over them, they were quicker, immediately charging where he landed. Changing the floor beneath them to tar, their advance slowed, crawled, then ceased. Stuck up to their thighs in the gurgling pit, the star dispatched them much the same way. Watching expressionless as they too were reduced to a size no larger than a tin before being pulled into nothingness.

"This is a child's game, old man!" the boy taunted, ducking under the piercing rapier of a Spanish suit.

A Viking helmet, suspended over layered furs, tried to tackle him. But he slid through the Spaniard's legs, leading both sets of armor to collide and break apart. He turned and held up his sword. His eyes looking around for the insidious man and his loathsome wife, "Show yourself!"

A hammer swung overhead; the boy spun to turn it to splinters. The royal pair watched amused, strolling around the small arena, arm in arm. Unseen by the enraged entity within.

Sol...Sol needs help...he needs....

Asha tried to move, but claws rent her ribcage. She tried to speak, but her tongue had since shriveled and decayed. She tried to shout, but her throat was charcoal, brittle as she breathed bitter air. Tears traced a molten path down her seared cheeks. Oh, she was useless...so...useless. It hurt, everything hurt...

The sound of a boy's brave battle overtook her senses. Ah, she kept creating problems, didn't she? Why did that boy have to care so much? Do so much? Be so much? He only got sicker the longer he stayed.... stayed for her. Stayed to make sure she didn't mess up; she didn't hurt anyone. Well, spectacular job she did! Making everyone miserable. With a fragile, sulfurous, breath she thought maybe she ought to die. If she did, it would all go away, wouldn't it? She wouldn't have to be eaten alive by her guilt, her failure. She could be with Baba again, her Papa too. Yes... she should die and make it all go away. Make it all go...away...

She spasmed as another flame broiled her heart.

Oh help....please....mercy...

The star executed another puppet, this time to the tune of the king's laugh.

"How talented you are! Quite the display, niño!"

"Face me like a man!"

"Would if I could, but I don't pick losing battles."

The star snarled and started hacking at the armor nearest him. Obliterating them with ease, only to have their brothers close rank around him. The monarch tutted, his voice bounding along the looming walls, "Alas, here you are wasting precious time while poor Asha lays dying."

"Something you did!"

"I beg to differ...something you did."

"Liar!" the boy screamed, a single slash bisecting a French suit.

"Can't you hear her now, Sol?"

A Mongol collapsed.

"How she struggles to breathe?"

A Trojan shattered.

"How she curses your name?"

A Roman fell upon his sword.

"This never would have happened if you had stayed away!"

"Shut up!"

"I bet she regrets ever calling you down from the sky."

"Shut up!!!"

"After all, it's your fault that she's dying!"

"I SAID SHUT UP!"

Lava sprouted underneath his feet. The violent wave rising free, it plowed into the surrounding army. Melting them down to lumps of metal and rust. Eyes that would shame the devil snapped to the royal couple. Caught unawares, they recovered quickly. Magnifico smiled, his voice low as he uttered, "Come at me, little star."

Howling obscenities from cultures past, the star hurtled toward them. His sword ready to rip the pair from time itself. But his rapid approach was halted. Millions of vines wrapped around him. Capturing his arms, his legs, his torso. They strangled his neck and forced him to the ground. Making him kneel before the monarchs. He wrestled and thrashed, but each movement pulled them tighter.

Amaya chided, "Oh Sol...it looks like you've made another one of your mistakes."

"Polaris will have your head."

Fear highlighted the planes of her face for only a moment. One very satisfying moment. Until her eyes narrowed, and she let out a most unladylike guffaw, "You bluff!"

"He's coming!" the threats were empty, "He knows exactly where you are!"

It was the king's turn to tease, his voice low and rumbling, "Really now? You're ready to give up on the girl's life so quickly? Honestly niño, I thought she was more important than that."

"What are you playing at?"

"I'm not playing at anything, just offering a proposition." There was a snap and the familiar chest scuttled forward. Waiting by Magnifico's heel like an obedient dog, "Yes, I do believe we have some interests in common. I could care less about what happens to the girl, and you seem to care to an extraordinary degree. However, I also find your presence...bothersome," the latch snapped open, and the cursed book drifted up, "I'm sure we can work out something...I know I have a spell...what was it...."

"A soul for a soul," the star's voice was faint.

"Yes, precisely," the ruler's eyes glimmered. With a gentle nudge, the book swooped down to the floor. Sliding before the imprisoned star. Its writing shone in blood.

The magician tried to shriek, but her body had become a cage.

No Sol! Don't you dare!

"You do want to save her, don't you?"

The boy stared down at the whispering pages. Drowning in the promises they held. The impossible things they knew. He swallowed.

"She'll die otherwise."

His head dropped; an exhaled chuckle escaped from his lips.

"Have you made your decision?"

"Let me see her."

"What?"

Sol's expression hardened as he gazed up at the king, "Let me see her."

"Your decision!"

"Will be made after I see her. Or is that an unreasonable request, your majesty?"

The monarch's lip curled. But meeting the star head on, he found no deception. The boy's face was unblemished by the anger that had stained it before. Oh, resentment was still there, gnawing at the corners. But his muscles were relaxed. A sort of peace came upon him, knowing exactly what his fate was to be. The man's cheek pinched. Some of the vines that held the boy in place loosened.

The queen's head whipped around, "What do you think you're doing?!"

"Who am I," Magnifico challenged, "to disrespect the wishes of a dead man?"

The star started to slide out of his bondage. His shoulder rotating freely. Though a good portion remained, those that Amaya held in place. Scowling at her husband, she marched toward the star. Grasping the tendrils that ensnared his wrists, she gave them a tug, wrenching the boy toward her, "Any wrong moves and I gut her like a fish."

"I'll keep that in mind."

She sniffed and the last of the vines fell away like frayed rope. The boy stood slowly, dropping into an exaggerated bow. He walked backwards a few paces, keeping with the disgusting decorum, before swinging around and hurrying to the girl.

"Hey, Asha," his breathy voice was distant in her ears. Her eyes sluggish, she tried to find him, but even they refused her wishes. The boy was over her, tender hands trying to put things right. But as before, each touch was torturous.

She felt his hold move to support her head. Tilting up, she could see him now. What was left of her heart twisted. Her scalp liquefying between his fingers.

"I'm so sorry, this is all my fault."

"No Sol, it's mine," her mind rushed to answer what her lips couldn't, "If I hadn't wished..."

"If I hadn't stayed..."

"Then none of this would have happened." Thought and voice spoke in tandem.

"But I don't regret any of it," the star continued, touching his forehead to hers, "We've had such an adventure, haven't we?"

Tears welled in her numbed eyes, for once the pain didn't bother her, "Yes...yes we did."

"I'm so glad I got to meet you. You made me feel alive. I'll never forget that. I'll never forget you. I-," his eyes shut, his expression weary, "I know you're going to hate me for this. Forgive me, but I have enough regrets Asha. You're not going to be another."

"No, Sol...please! I deserve this! I've made a mess of everything! You shouldn't have to-"

"I think...I think I finally understand you humans," his breath was in her ear, cooling the flesh that blistered there, "Chasing after something, no matter how much it harms you. Your desire...your wish. I think I've found mine. My real one."

"Sol..."

"It's you, Asha," As he pulled away, she watched his lips form the words, "It was only ever you."

"Wait!"

"Alright!" the boy cried out. Dragging himself away before he could think better of it. He walked toward the royal couple, arms outstretched, "I'm yours!"

"You can't do this!"

"You chose well, niño," Magnifico gestured to the book, still laid out on the floor, "Whenever you're ready."

Sol refused to look back at the girl as he advanced toward his final chapter. Staring down at the promising pages he had to laugh to himself, "Well Polaris," he mused, extending his hand out in front of him, "I suppose you won't have to clean up my messes anymore, huh?" 

Opening his fist, his fingers fanned out over the cursed thing. The tome flew, slamming against his palm, vicious and gleaming green. Tiny spears loosed, they pierced his body. Lines chipped, cracked, spread and burned. A web of magic, it burrowed underneath his skin, running along his bones, wrapping around his mind. Until it knew. It knew everything. And it told him things. Things he wanted to hear. To believe. Lies, it lied! He knew that....but he was sure the evil within those pages didn't much care.

"PLEASE STOP!"

He met his end with a smile.

"Anima."

His body ignited. Violent and red, his features distorted in the dancing flames. The brilliance of stardust cascaded down from the parchment like sand through an hourglass. Slithering along the floor, it seeped into the girl. The pain evaporating, she gasped as if breathing for the first time. Throwing herself forward, feeling came back to her legs. She scrambled toward the boy. Running. Sprinting. She had to get to him. She had to stop him.

The spell waning, the book fell through Sol's limp fingers. Impacting the floor with a boom that echoed...echoed....echoed into forever. His light guttered, then died. Breathing sharp, but breathing still, his legs buckled. He was tired. Oh, how he was tired! He wanted to close his eyes, to rest, to sleep. Yes, sleep. He hadn't had much of that, had he? Not since he'd come to this island. Always worn out. Always fighting against fatigue. Always starting the day drained. Yes, a good rest was what he needed. Just one long rest....

"SOL!"

His sight blurred. Eyelids fluttering, he blinked, and blinked, and blinked. But the shadows kept getting longer. He peered over his shoulder. A smudge of violet grew closer. Squinting, he made out the features a bit. Ah, there she was. Running toward him. Good...good she was up. He shook his head and pressed his eyes tight before opening them again. There now, that was better! He could see her face, bright as day. She had color...yes...she was going to be alright. Thank her shining stars! What a weight off his shoulders! He had finally...done....

.......something....

............................righ-

His body seized. Dropping like a stone, his head cracked against tile.

The magician cried out. Falling to her knees, timid fingers hovered over him. Sky above, he was the color of ash! So frail. So faded. No...he was alright.... he was okay. She was being silly.... just being silly. Trembling, she tapped his shoulder. Nothing. She jostled it. Nothing. She shook it slow, then fast, faster. Nothing. Rolling him over, she watched his head loll. Frantic breaths prayed as she felt his head, his neck....no pulse. Did he ever have one? Blast it, she couldn't remember! She should have paid attention! Why hadn't she?! All she remembered was warmth. Wonderful, comforting, all consuming, warmth. But now he was cold...so cold. Why was he cold? No...no...no! There was no way he was....

Her head dropped to his chest. Listening, begging, hoping for a breath, a sigh...something....

"Sol?"

But no answer came.

A sob tore through her. Her fingers knotted themselves in his shredded shirt.

How could he do this to her? How could he leave her all alone? How could he let her face the king as he approached. Disinterested, maybe even disgusted. Not even looking her way as he reached down and took back the book. How could he let her watch that man, that horrid and evil man, wipe away the stardust from it like dirt? Sol's stardust. Stardust that would never laugh, never talk, and never call her name. How could he leave her to watch the royal couple embrace? Watch how they celebrated and giggled betwixt themselves? How they shamelessly prattled on about the future while Asha's life had been shattered? How could he leave her alone in this decayed world?

"I still need you," her shaking voice mumbled into his vacant chest, "I-"

"You brilliant thing!"

Magnifico's voice sliced through her mourning. Her grasp shook in the frayed fabric.

"Such a wonderful trick you play, mi amore!"

"Twas nothing," Amaya teased, batting away her husband's glowing endorsement, "You did most of the talking. You've a silver tongue on you, sweet. You'd put Hermes himself to shame."

The girl's vision lost its color. All she saw were shadows and planes of light. And so much light too, shining in from the ceiling...the fountain. Something dark rolled through her gut. A beast. It stole away her grief and gave her back her fury. She sat up slow, flattening Sol's ruined shirt. Reaching to caress his cheek, her hand stopped short. Clenched into a fist, she drew back. She didn't deserve to cry over him. She was the reason why he lay there. The reason why he was here in the first place-

No...she couldn't do this now. Maybe later, but not here. Now she had to make things right. The monster at the back of her mind agreed.

She felt the stardust flowing around her, in the stones, the air, the fountain itself. Yes, the fountain with its strong current. All that energy in one place. All that power.

If it must burn, so be it.

Her hands were flush with the ground.

So be it.

She stared right at the king.

So be it.

Her mouth uttering the simple spell.

See you soon...Sol.

Catching on too late, Magnifico moved to stop her. But before he could, the entire tower went up like a roman candle.

Chapter Text

Amidst the torrent of flames, a man screamed. But it wasn't for the nightmare he found himself in. No, in all the crumbling stone and melted glass, the king was lost in the horrors of his past. Awash in apocalyptic light, eyes once glassy, became vibrant blue. His entire history passed before him, hunger, loneliness, desperation, survival; all rotated in his mind. A scroll unfurled, showing him the list of deeds done, both good and ill. But oh....so much ill. His mind clear for the first time in centuries, it buried him. His memories compounded, erupting from his subconscious. Bringing about a time before Cassie fell from the sky. Everything laid out in sad, disgusting, relief. His humanity was restored and old...so old...creaking...gasping.... brittle...old.

But it hadn't all been bad, had it?! He'd had to make some hard decisions, was all. Nothing but a few well-placed enchantments. What was a lie when it brought comfort? What was a spell when it eased pain? It had all been for the best! Otherwise, how would they have lived? How would they have avoided those horrid stars? They had been tired of running. He had made a home. It was for her. It had always been...for...

His hand closed around heated air. Where was she?! Coughing, he stumbled through burning wastes.

Cassie.... Cassie...

Timbers fell like lit matchsticks around him. Bursting into embers at his feet. He bent his way through the debris, smoke filling his lungs. Constantly sifting, feeling, calling. Where was his wife? He needed her. He couldn't think, he just needed her! She was water. She was air. She was life. He couldn't go on if she was not by his side. Without her, everything was pointless! Without her, there was no explanation. No redemption. It was only him. Him and his disfigured reflection, searching for a reason.

But he had done the right thing, hadn't he? All this misery couldn't have been for nothing! It had been noble...correct...even? No, everything he'd done...everything he'd given up...must have meant something! It must have-

But...wait....

A river of ice wound its way down his back. If he remembered...then that meant. His face turned toward the sky above. His eyes widened before the rest of the mangled roof gave way and sent the tower careening to earth.

***

Asha came around to the sound of dripping water. The air smelled earthy...clean. A drop landed on her nose. Skating along the curves of her face, it traced her mouth. Bewildered, her tongue ran over chapped lips. Rain? Recent rain too. Just ended more like. Where was she? It never rained in Rosas. Had she died after all? Was this what it was like on the other side? Damp and humid? Her nose wrinkled. Smokey fingers touched her hair, her face, her abdomen, her legs. No, alive...she was still alive and in one piece. Her throat dry, the groan came scratched and broken over her ruined vocal cords. Still here...she was still here.

Damn the stars!

Picking her head up from the fractured floor, she found her other hand wrapped around Sol's. The ligaments stiff in her grasp, her heart bled again. But she couldn't bring herself to let go. Clutching to the dead boy, she blinked in the silvery light.

Silver.... light.

She looked up and was breathless. The moon shone bright over the ruined scene. Full and unwavering, it washed out everything it touched. The sky, the deepest black, was entwined with shades of violet. Tiny blots of sparkling dust thrown over the expanse, winked and twinkled.

"Oh!" she gasped.

For the first time in five hundred years, the night sky spread over Rosas. The eternal sun had gone. Then maybe it hadn't all been a waste! Maybe she had done it! She had ended it all. Maybe...

Her eyes adjusting, she saw the alien terrain before her. Piles of bricks and ash turning what used to be the castle into something mountainous and rugged. Bits of charred furniture and residual ornamentation stuck out at odd angles. The floor itself, or what was left of it, had listed to a dramatic angle. Leaving the outskirts pitched away from the prying eyes of the night sky. It was here where a specter curled.

Long hair, torn from her careful braid, spilled over Amaya's graceful shoulders. Eyes an unearthly green, her features were strangely angular and harsh in the shadows that kept her. Baring her teeth, she resembled a wolf.

"You wretch! Now look what you've done!" The woman raved, anger spurring her to the border of her shadowy prison, but no further.

Taking in the ragged appearance before her, Asha began to laugh. But it wasn't a humorous kind. It was unhinged. Frenzied and frayed it leapt into the night air. How perfect! The devil of a woman was scared! For once she was terrified. She was bound. She was powerless. Served her right! The girl stood; the whites of her eyes caught in the light of the moon. How funny this all was! How-

A moan cut through her manic cackling. Turning slow, she recognized a silhouette sticking out from the wreckage. She stared at it, doubting her eyes. No...no.... the sun was gone!

Another moan, this one louder.

It couldn't be!

"Mi amore!" the queen's voice vaulted over the girl and toward the half-buried man. Asha watched that head move. So slight, but it did.

"Oh! Thank goodness! Than-" the woman's exuberance ended in a quick gasp before she pushed herself further into her alcove. She had almost launched over the perimeter and into the starlight.

"A-ah..." a soft whisper rose from the living corpse, "C-cassie. There you are....Cassie..."

"Yes, I'm here! I'm here! Cariño, come to me! I want to see you...please!"

A dry laugh emanated from that pile of rubble, "Mi reina, I'm not sure that I can..."

"No matter, no matter at all!" the queen fought to keep her tone even, "I'll find a way to you!" The scattering of pebbles marked her progress. Her statuesque figure became spidery and anxious as she hugged the shelter of the perimeter.

It wasn't fair.

Asha watched the woman scramble. Though she was hard to make out, one thing that she could see were those eyes. Those dreadful glowing eyes that had tormented her, beaten her, humiliated her.... were now filled with hope.

No, it wasn't fair!

She watched that man's regal profile strain and search. Knowing his wife was coming, knowing he would see her again...hold her again. The star's hand slid out of Asha's grasp as she shook.

How dare they? How dare they be able to reunite?! How dare they be able to celebrate?! How dare they be together while she was alone? All alone. Anger coiled within. Alone because of them! Fireworks went off inside her head. Hundreds of tiny explosions as her synapses fired off one by one. They didn't deserve happiness. They didn't deserve hope. Not after everything they'd done. No...she would make sure of it. She had to make things right.

Claws reached into Sol's sleeve, retrieving the arrow. It shone, iridescent, in the dark. Taking it into her fist, she strode out into the tower proper. Splashing through puddles and climbing up refuse, she stalked toward the trapped man. Her hair streaming behind her in the brisk wind, she cut the figure of a wraith as she mounted the collapsed roof. In her advance, her foot kicked against something. It squelched and slid away. Looking after the sound, she saw the book. That ulcerous thing now waterlogged and burnt. Though not burnt completely...burnt enough. Enough to have destroyed the king's wish and pulled the sun from the sky.

She spat at the ugly thing.

With renewed vigor, the girl leapt up the last few feet to behold the monarch. But she found a man older than the sands of the Sahara. Mouth dried and folded over his gums, his nose was shriveled and sunken. His cheeks carved deep bowls in his face. Eyes, once blue, were now completely white. Scorched blind by the fire that had ripped the tower from the sky. She swallowed back her pity. This creature she stood above had done unforgivable things. No matter how pathetic he appeared to be, he was still Magnifico, King of Rosas....and her father's murderer. She knelt over him, making sure to settle as much of her weight as she could against his chest. He gargled blood as the beams pressed into him.

Pushing the flat of the arrow against his jaw the girl growled, "Checkmate."

His eyes shifted in the direction of her voice. His face showed placid indifference, "Ah, the apprentice finally bests the sorcerer. Well done."

"You-"

"Stop!" The voice was commanding.

Looking up, the girl was met by the queen's wrath. Stuck a taunting two meters away, underneath a curved bit of rubble. The only thing between her and her love was starlight. Drawn up to her full height, her dress cut to ribbons, breathed with her. Wild woman from the skies, she threatened, "You draw even a drop of blood, and I will flay you alive!"

The magician answered the powerful ruler with a snort. Still smoking from the residual flames, she answered in kind, "Ah, now this is a change," a sing-song voice cut up by resentment, "You stuck, while I decide your fate...how wonderful."

"Do you want to die, niña?!"

"I'd like to see how you'd do that," the girl's frigid words cracked against the oppressive midnight, "without stardust."

The queen of rags shuddered, actually shuddered. Doubt impressed upon her regal features as the girl shifted her attention back to Magnifico. His head lifted back, decrepit features twitching.

"Your time has come, your majesty," her grip tightened against the cool metal, "All I have to do is break skin, and you'll die."

There was a stirring of air that made his wispy beard dance, "Ah..." he rasped, "...a welcome respite, to a weary man."

"Do you understand me?!" her teeth gnashed, "I'm going to kill you!"

"Then why the hesitation, señorita?" his chin lifted to the sky, exposing his throat, "Go ahead, I'm ready."

"No, mi rey!!!" Amaya yelped.

The king smiled, blind eyes closing, his withered mouth bayed, "Do it. The weight is too heavy."

Racing breaths punctuated the air between them. Sweat glistened, slipping against the cold shaft. She clenched her fist tighter.

Stop shaking...stop shaking...stop...shaking.

She could do this. He deserved it. They both did. The arrow dimpled his rough skin and the man sucked in his final breath.

"You're not a murderer, Asha."

Sol's memory pushed at the back of her mind. No...he was dead. It didn't matter what he thought because he couldn't think anymore. She was going to collect her debt, whether he hated her or not...it was the right thing to do. Just a cut. That was all it would take.

And then what?

Her hands stalled.

The king died...and then what? What would she do?

Drag the queen into the starlight, of course. Have her be cast to the shimmering prison above.

But then after that...what would be left? She would rule this island? This gutted place filled with starving, souls? This rotting tumor upon the sea? But she could make it better...couldn't she? Surely hers would be a superior kingdom, filled with joy.

But no one to share it with.

So what? Plenty of rulers were alone! Not every monarch was beloved.

Kill him then.

Her knuckles were taunt.

Kill him and take what's yours.

The arrow twisted.

However....

She shut her eyes.

Is a throne taken by blood worth it?

"You don't want to rule like that!"

The ghost of Sol's voice rose goosebumps on her skin.

"Asha-"

"Stop!"

The king's eyelids fluttered at her exclamation.

It had to end here...now!

Her teeth clenched.

But....

But would it end? What happened if another were to challenge her? Would she do it again? Another arrow to someone's throat? Ready to kill. Ready to maim. How many more? How many times? How many ways? How long until she ended up...just...like.... him?

"Mija?"

Her heart stopped.

Papa?

"Mija," she felt his hand over hers, "The battle is already won, Mija. Let it go."

Tears ran free down her face.

Papa.

"Let it go."

She let out a shattered cry and reeled back. Her arm held aloft for a second. A second which terrified the queen.

The woman saw the point, glinting against the stars above. Arced high...ready to descend. Descend on the king. Oh, this girl was going to kill her husband!

No.

She would lose the kingdom; they could build another. She would lose her castle; they were common enough. But not him...not him too. Not the man who'd pulled her from the crater. The man who'd given up so much to shelter her. The man who'd made her fall in love. No...not Boy! Never him! His cool blue eyes played across her mind. Her insides danced.... oh mi amor.

No!

She would not be beaten. She would show this girl what it meant to cross the stars. Hers would be a grotesque lesson. Shall she be mauled by tigers? Eaten alive by millions of ants? Swallowed by a boa constrictor? She had enough stardust for a spell like that. Plenty. She could do it and still have ample amount to survive for decades yet. There would be time to find more supply. Yes, her and her beloved would find another island, another meteor, another chance. The world was large, and they were eager. They had time. Plenty of time. She just had to take care of this tiny...insignificant...girl.

Rotten thing.

The arm fell.

"DIE!" Amaya yowled, lunging forward. The spell sparking along her skin-

A roar cleaved the sky.

Startled, the arrow dropped to the ash below. And Asha stared at the petrified queen, at the woman's hand.....and how it quivered in the moonlight.

Realizing what she had done, the royal gagged. Wasted stardust trickling from her limp fingers, she stumbled back to her shadows. But they would no longer shield her.

A second roar punctured the air. Closer. The wind picked up, quickening to a vortex. The king looked around, not seeing but trying.

"Cassie!"

The darkness above them split, bluish light sizzling through floating cracks. They kept growing, hissing, burning.

The queen started to scream.

"Mija, get down!"

Pulling her eyes away from the widening rift, Asha rolled off the pile of rubble. Her stomach against the ruined floor, she saw the space above them break apart. A swirling mass of cosmic energy was revealed. A portal into another world. And something was coming, bounding, racing through it. The wind stopped. The crickets ceased. She tasted metal.

"Don't watch!"

Breathing in ozone, she buried her head in her arms before the massive creature burst forth.

Amaya, pressed against the pathetic remains of the tower, faced Draco alone. The beast, knit together by tales older than time itself, came upon the queen with the fury of ancients. Barreling into her, the unearthly screams of a wounded animal issued from the alcove. Inhuman words and foreign tongues all blended together into one last cry of defiance before the serpentine creature broke through the remaining wall and spirited the fugitive back to the skies.

"Cassie!"

No answer.

"CASSIE!"

The crickets resumed.

The girl picked her head up slow, the air still buzzing with the current left behind by the constellation.

"Cassie...."

The king's calls dissolved into broken sobs. Weeping to the stars.

"She's gone," the girl's voice was hard.

The wrinkles stark against his thin skin, she saw veins pop, "You coward," he rasped, "You weak insipid thing. You couldn't spare me from witnessing the loss of my wife? You let me languish? Let me suffer? You horrid creature. You and your father were both deceivers. Deer who wanted to pretend to be lions. Well go ahead, take my kingdom, take my people, become the ruler you always wanted to be. Long may you reign," his tone was murder, "But give me the dignity of a swordsman with a steady hand first. Do me that one kindness. I...I cannot bear-"

"Kindness?" Asha's voice pitched, "You think you deserve kindness?"

The mummy was silent.

"There was no kindness allowed for me in that dungeon of yours. There was no kindness for me in this throne room. There was not even kindness for me in my own house! You took that! You take EVERYTHING!!!"

"Fine words from you, señorita! Yours and my ambitions align. Anything for the ones we love," he choked, "I did everything I could. I even traded a part of myself for it. And this island flourished. Without me it would be nothing but a rock!"

"And because of you, it will become a rock again!"

"I had my reasons!"

"But you still bewitched, you still lied, you still killed!"

The king turned his head away from the stinging words.

"No matter what, you still did it!"

That's right, I still did it...no matter what the intention...I still did it.

"You made the decision to burn this island to the ground, for what? So you could keep playing pretend with your runaway star?"

All so I could play queen? So I could keep a star? It's so selfish...

"To what ends will you go to excuse what you've done?"

I don't deserve to draw air.

"Well, there you are.... checkmate as you said," the old man rumbled, "Perhaps I don't deserve the sword. That's too good for me. Fine then, do away with me as you see fit then.... your highness."

The air went out of her lungs at the title. Her stomach rolling, she thought she was going to be sick. But a firm hand on her shoulder steadied her nerves.

"Mija..."

"No," Asha felt her father speaking alongside her, "You don't get the luxury of death. You get to wallow in the mess you made. You little lion, you created a kingdom of sand. You gave up your humanity, and now that it's rushing back you want to end things? No... not today. You, boy pretending to be a man. Well now you are one. And it's time to grow up, mi amigo."

The fallen monarch's jaw slackened, his sightless gaze swept the room, "Tomás?"

" Is dead because of you."

He cringed at the acid in the girl's voice.

"My Baba is dead! Sol is...Sol is..." Her throat seized, she couldn't say it, she just couldn't. Spoken word made it real. It made it true. It made it her fault. Her hand covered her mouth. She fell to her knees in the middle of the desolation and wailed. Wailed for all that was lost, for all that could have been, and for all she had wasted. She clung tight to her arms, keeling over until her forehead brushed her knees. Oh, what had she done?

The air shifted again. The king gulped, feeling thickness in the atmosphere, and the danger it held.

" Sol is what?"

Asha jumped. Through tear- stained eyes she saw Polaris, silver against the ruin.

"Polaris..."

"Where is he?"

The girl shook her head slow, "Please-"

"Where is he?!"

"I'm sorry I-"

The imposing man loomed over Asha, the tails of his coat lifting in the gathering storm, "Tell me" he spoke with thunder.

Dropping her head, she pointed.

The star followed that fatal hand, all the way to the motionless boot sticking out of the darkness.

His face became a mask. His stride never breaking, confident, as it crunched against the mess of glass and marble. Not pausing for a second to deny...even prolong...the inevitable. Polaris walked right up to the body of his brother and confronted the truth.

Staring down at the gray thing, the magician could see his cheek twitch. Unblinking, the star's eyes combed the body like it was something mundane. Natural even. It could have been a boulder, a felled tree, something - anything - that didn't have a name, a soul, nor a place in his life. Luminescent hair rustled in the strong sea air. With a deep inhale, the older brother knelt at Sol's side. Sturdy fingers found the limp hand. Frigid to the touch, Polaris was spared that horrendous detail. Bringing those charred knuckles to his forehead, he bowed over the deceased.

"You fool."

Asha barely heard it. Small and coarse, it was blown to the galaxy overhead.

Finding her legs again, she walked on unfeeling feet toward the mourning star. Seeing only his back, she watched how he struggled to breathe. What could she say? What could she do? She had so many phrases tangled up in her head, but none of them seemed enough. She wanted to commiserate, to share the burden. But a part of her understood that she belonged on the outskirts. Just a scared little girl who'd made too many mistakes to count. Mistakes that always had death following close behind. Her cheeks still stained with her shameful tears, she tried to pull her tongue from the roof of her mouth.

"How did it happen?"

The words were knives. She stopped dead in her tracks. Too scared to breathe the next syllables.

"Don't patronize me!" he barked, "Spit it out."

"He saved me," her throat still coated in mucus, "I was dying...he...he...u-used the book," she hiccupped, "Oh Polaris!" she wept, "It's all my fault!"

"You're right," emotionless, his voice struck her across the face, "It is all your fault. You took my brother from me. Whether it was by hubris or pure stupidity. You've killed him."

"No please!" she dropped next to him, seeing him tense as she did, "There has to be something we can do! Whatever the price-"

"What's done is done!" Polaris dropped Sol's hand, "Nothing can bring back the dead!"

"No...there has to be some wa-"

"It's just the way things are," he wouldn't look at her, still staring down at his brother's unmoving face, "You've gone and ruined everything."

She blinked at the finality of those words. He was wrong. Who cared if he was a star, he was wrong! Because she knew of one item that could change everything. One thing that could put it all back together. And it was smoldering at the foot of the king's tomb. On the tail of Polaris's molten statement, she flew. Sifting through the haphazard piles of destruction before her fingers wrapped around the charcoal cover. Yes...there it was. She pulled it from the debris. A voice filled her head. It was soft, playing upon her desire, it flattered, it coaxed, it begged. Just open it, a few little pages, that was all. It wasn't burned, only a little singed. It still held so much power, so much promise. Didn't she want to see that boy again? That wonderful boy that made her heart skip? That made her feel so much? She could...she definitely could. She could have it all-

Polaris was behind her, jerking the ruined thing from her hands.

"NO!" she clung to air, bits of the charred cover broken off and tumbling down from her blackened palms. She spun, facing the livid man. The tome fragile in his hold, "Stop, you're going to-"

"Destroy it?" the words as empty as his eyes.

"Yes."

The star snarled. Silver split the shadows. Slashing stark against the night, the arrow cut a clean path. How did he find it? In all the wreckage, how did he find her sin? The gift used for terrible things. And now used to-

....impale the book.

Asha was left to stare, agape, as the forbidden magic was reduced to dust between those pale fingers. One strong gale, and it whirled away across the uneven stones. Gone, out into the world beyond. Sullen, the older brother tucked the arrow into his tunic. Brushing his hands free of the remains, he stared at the girl, swaying in the midst of her stricken hope.

"But.... why?" teeth sharp, fists clenched, "Why?!" she stepped toward him, "WHY?!" she drew back, her punch aimed toward his sternum, he stopped it with a hand carved from stone. Meeting his eyes, her shoulders fell, "I...I could have saved him."

"No," gone was the calm, gone was the ice, all that was left was grief, "You can't make the same trade twice. A deal's a deal.... he's gone."

"But-"

"I should have done that eons ago," he charged forth with his thought, "Then all this...." He grunted, quick to look down at the ground. She could see his eyes watering.

"Dammit," the curse was suffocated as he spun away. His hands in his hair, disheveling what was meticulous and pristine, "dammit," his arm braced against the ghostly remains of an archway. He breathed, then with one strike the structure blew apart. Spraying new rubble across the litter at his feet. Standing in the wake of his power, words emerged staccato and slow, "I will not have you disrespect my brother's memory by making another stupid decision. He thought you were important enough to live....so be it."

"But that can't be it! That can't be the end!" the girl stood firm, staring down his shimmering back, "Please, there must be something I can do...I...I can't lose him."

She watched his head shake.

She searched internally for something.... anything, "If I can give something else...could that bring him back?"

"What could you possibly offer to equal the value of his life?"

The magician stared down at her hands. Defaced with scars, they told the story of her greed. Opening and closing them, she watched the hideous lines pinch and bloom across her skin. Swallowing, she held them out in front of her, "What about power equal to that of the stars?"

Polaris looked back, "What?"

"My wish...what if I give up my wish?"

He blinked. Facing her, disbelief colored his face, "You lie."

"It's of no use to me. Not anymore."

His eyes narrowed, "You're certain?"

"Would it work?"

"You'd never be able to use stardust again."

The magician breathed in sharp, "Would it work?!"

Rubbing his eyes, he started to pace. Pensive, he mumbled to himself. A jumble of "ah hums," and "er's," rose up. It wasn't possible. Not this wild thing. This snake who had charmed his brother. This fuse waiting to be lit. It couldn't be this girl who breathed ambition. But...

He stopped short, glancing over at the magician.

"Well?!"

Amazing...absolutely spectacular! After all this time, Sol had been right. Humans were fascinating things to behold. A small smile pinched the corners of his mouth, reaching his eyes, they sparkled. For a second, he was the spitting image of his younger brother, "Maybe...just maybe. It could."

"Right," her head bobbed, "What's the spell then?"

Polaris crossed his arms, exhaling, "Some magic is older than words, Asha."

Her eyebrow raised. Why was he spouting riddles? Now was not the time for celestial vagueness! "The spell?"

The star stepped aside, jerking his chin toward where his brother lay. She asked the question again, but it was answered with a curt, "You'll know."

She would have to figure it out on her own.

Picking her way back to Sol, she knelt there at a loss. She braced her arms on either side of him. Hovering, her hair brushed over his diminishing features. Broken breaths made condensation prickle on his slackened face. He looked so awful! She could see his fingers falling to dust. His skin tightening against bone. And if she moved her head a certain way, she could see straight through him! How could she think that she could bring him back? Her mind reeled, turning over the older brother's curious statement. A magic older than words? What was she supposed to do with that?

But hanging over him as she was, she caught on another topic. One from what felt like ages ago. One that she hadn't entertained since she was a child. Looking at him in the state he was in, those old stories ran through her head.

Once upon a time...

Desperate, and a bit mad, she leaned close.

Take it, everything. I give it all back.

Her eyes shut tight, she breathed into his open lips.

"I love you."

Kissing him, she dared to wish.

Chapter Text

The first thing Sol felt was pain. Lost in the dark, he floated there, not knowing up from down. He couldn't move. Nor could he breathe. But he was acutely aware of every muscle in his body. They announced themselves in order, from his neck down to his fingers. Icy talons walked along his veins, connecting head to heart, heart to lungs, lungs to legs. He tried to groan, but all was still and silent in the shadows. Iron points from a million arrows embedded themselves in his abdomen. Creating a patchwork of agony over his chest. The constant sound of a beating heart filled his ears. Every pulse bringing new torture. It was so loud! Why was it so loud?! He was trying to sleep.... why....

"Sol?"

He knew that voice.

Asha...

He tried to pick up his head, but a line of nails punctured his vertebrae.

"Sol?"

Here...he was here...Asha...

"Wake up."

The arrows dug deeper as he tried to speak.

"Please!"

He couldn't. It hurt so much. Everything. He was cold...freezing. Frostbite capped every nerve. Frigid but burning...burning forever. Unceasing, intolerable, pain.

Stop...please...stop......no more....

The shadows pulled at him. Sinking, lowering, into that empty place. Slowly drowning in the dark ocean, numbness descended. Wonderful, blessed, numb. Yes, this was better. This bland suspended space. A limbo between places. This was where he wanted to be. Painless, thoughtless, and...

"Come with me."

Oh no, Asha! Not again! He wanted...no.... he needed rest. She had to run. To get as far away from Rosas as possible. What was she still doing here? Why was she wasting her time bothering the dead?

"Come with me."

Did she have to be so stubborn? Didn't she know it was over? His adventure concluded? There was nothing else she could-

A hand reached out. Faint in the blackness, but there. Waifish, it was a silver outline against the gloom. Promising fingers stretched toward him. He could feel their warmth. Radiating over his frozen body, as brilliant as the sun. The ice fractured, popping and hissing underneath the heat. He could hear the heartbeat again, faint but growing louder and louder.

"Come with me!"

Breathing in, he took her hand.

****

Sol's chest filled with air.

Asha fell back, surprised by the motion. Landing on her elbows, she watched rapt as his chest moved again.

Up and down...up and down...up...

The gray came away in patches. Blood passing beneath his skin, his cheeks became flushed. Olive melted over his brow. His hair, darkening to the color of honey, was struck through with sun-bleached strands. Another breath and his eyelids twitched. The girl didn't dare move, afraid to stir the air, afraid to break the spell. But when his eyes opened, she couldn't stop herself.

They were brown. Wonderful, living, chocolate, brown.

She let out a strangled cry before wrapping her arms around him. Though when she did, a horrible swear ripped through the boy. She pulled away, taken aback by such an ugly word.

"Sol?" she asked, now up on her knees. Debating whether to slap him for his wretched language.

The boy blinked. Taking in the night sky above him with some confusion. His hand glided along the ground. He could feel the uneven terrain. The bits of rock and dust that shifted under his touch. The divots in the tile, the coolness of the marble, the-

"Ow!" he exclaimed, feeling something bite into his palm. Flinching, his hand shot up in front of his face.

What-

A shard of glass was stuck there, protruding from his skin. Skin that wasn't glowing. Skin that looked...

His other hand raised then. Anxious fingers grabbed the small shard and pulled. He grit his teeth at the pain that sizzled and sparked. But with one firm yank the glass was removed. Only a couple centimeters deep, the wound welled with blood. He watched it collect with wonder. A drop landed on his cheek. It was warm. He could feel it slide down his face. Thick and slow. His eyes widened. Sky above...he was-

"Asha!" he bolted up and instantly regretted his decision. Her name dissolving into a jumble of screams and groans.

"Sol!" she kept him up by the tight grasp of his shirt, "Are you alright?"

His throat constricted. The arrows were back, plunging further. Punching through to the other side. Oh Andromeda, what was that?! A shaking hand tried to shield the gaping wound he was certain he had. However, he found nothing but flesh. Laying a feather touch against the area, a whole new pain seared its way to the base of his spine. His sight was blurry, but he could see her face wavering before him. She was worried. He tried his best to give her a smile, his lips shaking against his tight jaw.

"He's broken a few ribs, I'll bet."

Polaris?

He saw his brother kneel before him. His eyes distant, analytical, and bothered. But despite that, his hair was sticking out in haphazard clumps. How bizarre! What had possessed him? How could he be all serious when he was walking around like that? He looked ridiculous! Calm, cool, and clean Polaris, with mussed hair?! Sol snorted but was answered by another bolt driven into his side.

"Broken ribs?" the girl squawked, frantically trying to catch the boy's pained gaze. His attention drifted lazily between his brother and her. With a slow blink, his head started to tilt back.

"SOL! Don't faint!" she jostled him.

"AGH! Alright! Alright!" he screamed, fighting the waves of white-hot agony, "I'm up! Alright?!"

The north star laid a firm hand on Asha's shoulder, "Give him some space."

She glanced back at the brother, her fingers burrowed further into Sol's shirt.

"He's going to be fine; you can let go now."

"Oh...." The teen breathed; she released the boy with a swallow. Light fingers brushed out the crumbled fabric. Feeling the whisper of weight against him, Sol shivered. Rosy and anxious, the girl's face was arresting. Finding no words adequate enough, he could only stare. Shifting in the extended silence, she offered him a closed smile. The back of his throat ticked. His heart was racing in his chest. Like a horse's gallop, it kept pace with his turbulent thoughts.

He could feel her. He could actually feel her through the wool. The weight of her touch left goosebumps. Wonderful, prickling, goosebumps. His cheeks were hot and growing hotter. She was so clear, so real. More real than he'd ever dreamed. This fiery thing that had been dancing beyond his reach was here. Now. And he could....

His hand raised without a thought. He wanted to hold her, caress her. He wanted so badly to know every ridge, every whirl, every imperfection that decorated her skin. He-

"I suppose magic is only as strong as the person wielding it," Polaris sighed, sidling up next to Asha, "seeing that you were only brought back halfway."

The girl shifted over to give the star more room. Sol's wanting hand dropped. Breathing through his frantic pulse, the sharp scent of charcoal filled his nose. Laying bitter at the back of his throat, he dared to look away, and finally take in the smoldering scene. Twisting around as much as he could before the blistering pain arose, he muttered, "What happened?"

The older brother raised his eyebrows, looking to Asha for explanation.

The girl blustered, "Well.... I...uh...heh...I may have.... burned down the castle," the last part was mumbled, but the boy leapt at it just the same.

"YOU-" he paused to gasp in pain before continuing, ".... you burned down..." he shook his head, "Asha, you could have been killed!"

"Hey! Thanks to me, Cassiopeia is back in the sky and the king is..." a gentle weeping could be heard, buried by the piles of debris, "...he's taken care of."

Sol studied the girl, "So, no more stardust?"

She shook her head.

"It's better that way," he groaned as he tried to adjust how his arms bore his weight. He caught his brother's gaze as he did. A gaze that held volcanic rage. Ah, there it was. The lecture. He was getting chewed out again, like he always did. Typical, his older brother wouldn't miss an opportunity to put him in his place. Even if he wasn't a star anymore. Though he supposed the topic would be something along the lines of, 'stupid-brother-of-mine-gone-off-and-becoming-human- after-almost-dying.' Oh yes, this was going to be a good one. Deciding to beat the man to the point, he cocked his head to the side, "You want to tell me something, Polaris?"

"Yes," he replied, his voice low.

"Well, go ahead and-"

His brother cuffed him over the back of the head. The blow caught him unawares. The impact driving his chin into his sternum, his ribs bucked as he leaned forward with the strike. Wanting to curl up and die, anger happened faster.

"OW! WHAT THE HE-"

"Did it hurt?"

"Of course it hurts, you jerk!"

"Good!" Polaris intercepted Sol's retaliatory attack. Squeezing the boy's wrist, his teeth ground together, "Don't you EVER do something that idiotic EVER again. Or else I will personally drag the river Styx for you! GOT THAT?!"

The boy watched his brother as he talked. His expression brutal, Sol could see the worry lurking beyond. He gulped, "I'm sorry."

"You should be," the man growled before crushing him in a bear hug. The boy bit back his gasp, agony lacerating him in its pique, his eyes watered from suppressed screams.

His brother shuddered against him. Not enough to see, but enough to feel, "You must have really hated being a star, hey Solaris?"

The question cut the boy through. He stiffened in the embrace, "Of course not...I just...well...I don't think I was very good at it."

"To say the least."

"Hey!"

Polaris pulled away. A rough hand against his brother's head, he made a mess of his newly darkened hair, "Well there you are then," finished there, he flicked his forehead for good measure, "You got what you wanted. How does it feel?"

"Like you're a pest," the younger sibling grumbled. Rubbing the growing red spot between his eyes, "Are you going to keep poking me or what?"

"Sure, I am," the man chuckled, tapping him on the shoulder, "As far as I see it, I can finally teach you a lesson."

"How lucky am I?" Sol grumbled.

"More than you know, Solaris," the brother sighed, "more than you'll ever know."

The star stood then, impressive against the ruined backdrop. Running a hand through his own hair, he settled all that was askew. His stern eyes found Asha. Impassive, his head inclined toward her. Though slight, she knew the movement well. Still kneeling on the smoking floor, she bowed in return.

"Take care of him."

Her eyes downcast, she regarded the shadow that stretched across the ground, "At all costs."

She saw the silhouette shift. A soft exhale blent with the ocean air. For the first time in a millennium, Polaris wasn't worried.

The girl straightened when she heard his boots pivot and crunch away.

"Hey, where are you going?" the boy called after his brother who was making great strides across the wasteland.

The star held up his arm, giving them a wave, "Loose ends!"

The two teens looked at each other and shrugged while the silver figure bounded over piles of rubbish. Searching and scratching through the rubble like a bird of prey, he examined every crevice. Soft feet landed then took off again from each clustered peak, dislodging melted gold and charred busts. He continued his trek until the sobs became loud and distinct. His head tilting like an owl's, his stark eyes found the broken man.

Trapped beneath unbearable weight, he was slowly being pressed to suffocation. The blood he'd been gargling before, now started to run down the sides of his mouth. Though the encumbered husk could barely be called living in the first place. If it hadn't been for the horrible noises emerging from that collapsed nose of his, the star would have pegged him for dead. A century dead, at least. Polaris nestled amidst the creaking roof tiles. Settling back on his haunches, he regarded the thing beneath him with mild interest.

"So you're the king of this horrid island?"

The dried head raised a mere inch before falling back in a cloud of ash. Then, a rasping, desperate, inhale, "Yes...."

"Funny," he mused, "I was expecting someone more impressive."

The sound of rattling bones punctuated the air, Polaris supposed it was laughter, "I...I...know...who you are.........star."

"You do? Well then good sir, who am I?"

"P.... Polaris..."

"Correct," his voice was lilting, "Though I suppose you're a good listener, being blind."

"I.... I knew who you were.... when......you.......... arrived."

"Impressive, I haven't met many humans that sensitive to stardust. She must have trained you well."

"Heh.... y-you're that little star's.... brother. Funny....... we killed him and you still....came...."

"Oh," shadows ran deep, "I see."

A glimmering hand seized the monarch's throat. Nails digging into the leathery flesh, the fallen king wheezed.

"So, you're the one who's responsible, well," the man leaned close with his skull-like grin, "You should have led with that, sir!"

The frail creature croaked, his withered features harsh under the fleeting night, "Ah...will you be the one to release me....señor?"

Polaris's thumb moved. Finding Magnifico's jugular, he rammed it into the loose skin. The old man gagged, his breaths cut off, dry lips twitched. The star's sadism flickered, "Nothing would give me greater pleasure.... but...." His fingers loosened their death grip, ".... that wouldn't be any fun now, would it?"

Air leaked through the monarch's nose in slow whiffs.

"After all, the punishment must fit the crime. And I'd much prefer watching you suffer...friend." he stepped down, "I do love rehabilitation, you see."

The mummy gulped.

"Nasty habit, really!" With one hand the star grabbed hold of the roof and lifted it off the king. A mixture of pulverized stone and splintered wood rained down upon the decimated body. All curved and crooked, his limbs had wasted away. His arms no thicker than the breadth of a leaf. So fragile, he could have been blown away by a stiff breeze. But Polaris reached over and dislodged the man by the front of his robes. Holding him, suspended over the ruins of his great castle, the star chuckled, "You know, spending a very....very....very long time with your own thoughts can do wonders."

Nothing but ripped clothing and dangling bones, his majesty murmured, "Señor..."

The star's fingers burned like branding irons. The man's plea dissolved into a pitiful cry.

"And I have the perfect spot for you too," he sneered, "right next to Cephus."

"Cephus?"

"Oh...she didn't tell you, did she?" the silver face turned devilish, "He's her husband."

Magnifico was struck dumb. Dread coiled through him like brambles, the many thorns perforating his organs.

And yet ...

He exhaled dry papyrus and desert sands.

And yet if he could find Cassie again. Find her just once. Even if he couldn't look upon her, even if he couldn't touch her, even if he couldn't speak with her. If he could be with her...if they could dare to share the same space for a moment.... he would do it. No matter what ends, even if he was suspended millions of miles away, he would find a way to see her again. Husband be damned, he'd take his lumps! He was sure there'd be eons of pain and distress in his future. But slid neatly behind his dread, was a small spark of hope. Resigned to his fate, the remains of the man that once was, closed his eyes and prepared for forever.

Tearing the cloak from his boney shoulders, Polaris tossed it toward the two figures on the other side of the wreckage. Stardust gave it wings. Flying over the short distance, the scorched fabric landed with a sigh at their feet. A tangled mess of white and purple, it sprawled across the stones like a dying animal.

"You're gathering a crowd," the star stepped into the air, dragging the king with him, "You should probably tell them what happened."

As if spoken into existence, disgruntled words and discordant shouts filtered into the destroyed world. Gulping, Asha reached forward and drew the garment between herself and the boy.

"Don't you worry," Sol spoke for both of them, "we'll throw a party about it and everything!"

His brother snorted, glowing brighter as his time on earth dwindled. Lifting his head up, he called, "See you around!"

"See you soon!" the younger sibling corrected.

Laughing, Polaris disappeared into the sky above. Nothing left of the two men besides a small pile of spent stardust.

The crowd grew louder. Raucous hollers and bawdy taunts peppered the general unease. Some shattering of glass could be heard, along with the destruction of something wooden. The girl hoped it wasn't the main gate. Whatever was left of it, that was. Twisting her hands in her lap, she looked toward the walls with anxiety.

"Asha."

She blinked, glancing back at Sol, his deep-set eyes still glimmered with left over magic, "It'll be alright."

She sighed, her hand enveloping his, she nodded.

The boy was utterly transfixed by their entwined fingers. In all his centuries, he'd never dreamed of such physicality. Battling between sight and touch, he was overwhelmed by the earth-shattering sensation. That callused palm, that flickering pulse, those unique fingerprints. His breath caught, an errant thumb traced the rise and fall of her knuckles.

"Eh...?"

"Asha...." He breathed. Bringing her hand to his cheek, he closed his eyes, ".... you're so warm."

"T-thanks," she stuttered.

His smile showed brilliant under the burgeoning dawn. As he peeked at her through golden lashes, she felt as if her entire body was going to catch fire.

The repetitive sound of thudding shattered their shared daze. Something heavy was being rammed, over and over again, against the palace doors. The boy shook his head, reluctantly letting go, "Rosas awaits."

"Yes," she gasped, shooting to her feet with the cloak rolled under her arm. Eager to be up where the air wasn't so thick, "y-you wait here-"

"Excuse you! But I am not sitting this one out!" the boy shifted to his knees with a barely hidden yowl. He placed a fist against the ground, rising on a wobbling leg, "I've done enough running aw-" losing his balance he started to topple....

.... onto his bad side.

Cripes.

The girl rushed to catch him. Her hold hurried and rough, he swallowed another scream. Breathing hard, he negotiated with the shafts that stabbed him.

"You're not in the condition to-"

"Nah uh! Nope. I'm doing this with you!" he struggled, "Whatever happens...we're doing.... this...toge-AGH!" with one long scream he pushed himself to his feet. Or, more accurately, to one foot. The other was placed behind him, toe down. Swaying in the open air, the girl was quick to slide next to him. Taking his arm, she brought it around her shoulders.

"You're an idiot, you know that?"

"Sure I do!" his voice was pitched to the tune of clenched teeth and tensed muscles, "It's what I'm good at!"

"Well then, shall we?"

"Of course-" though when the boy shifted his weight, he buckled. The girl gasped when he went limp against her.

"Sol..."

"I-I think.....I think.... something else is...broken."

"Your leg?"

The blonde head nodded slow, not raising from his agonized bow.

"Well, you were thrown through a wall..."

"Three walls."

"Wah?"

"No....uh....actually, three walls and a window.... But who's counting?"

"Are you sure you don't want to-"

"No.... I'm doing this," repositioning himself, he moved to the better foot.

"But doesn't it hurt?"

"Yes," he gasped, hopping forward on one leg, "Isn't it marvelous!"

Straining against him, Asha glared. But her frustration dwindled when she found him awash in the wonder of life. No matter how it harmed him, he treasured every step. Each movement brought new sensation, new experiences. Pain was horrible, but it was layered. When he moved like this, or bent like that, he found levels to each lick of flame. Some ways better than others, he was learning how to nurse his injuries.

Witnessing his excitement, she laughed, "Yes, I suppose it is."

The clumsy pair made their way over to what was left of the battlements. Negotiating the collapsed wall, they stood, leaning against one another for support. Below them the throng howled and shrieked. Their jumbled language indistinguishable, it was a mystery what they were saying, though the two could hazard a guess. With a careful exhale shared between them, the king's cloak was thrown from the parapets and to the cluster of bodies below. The townsfolk were silenced by that suspended garment, drifting down upon them like a falling leaf.

One whoop went up. Then a cheer followed. Ecstatic singing, laughing, clapping. Infectious, the realization spread through the crowd, as anger turned to joy in the midst of the fallen tyrant.

Sol wobbled. Asha used all her strength to catch him, but despite her efforts, they both went tumbling back. Landing hard against the crenelated wall, sweat covered the boy in an oily sheen. His eyes closed; he gently tapped his head against the stone. Finding their solidity, and their bruising capabilities, an interesting footnote.

"It's over," he murmured before letting his head rest against the girl's shoulder. Smiling at the exhausted boy, she leaned into him. The beads in her hair shining with dying embers.

Funny, in the midst of the wild celebration, no one knew that their saviors had just been kids. Barely adults, they had stumbled into each other. Then by extension, something greater. No one yet knew that the stardust had been depleted. No one yet knew the true cost of the fire, the curses put to rest, or the dreams left to die.

But that would be a conversation for another day. A new day. Now the two teens enjoyed their rest, drowsing despite the revelry that carried on beneath.

Chapter Text

It was the emptiness that did the most damage. Broken curses stole away comfort as much as they did illusion. So many people, some who'd been walking around in dreams for decades, were suddenly shoved back to their respective realities. Unmatched talent, grand adventures, even phantom spouses, vanished in a second. All alone in the darkness of night, the citizens of Rosas wept. It wasn't until the new day arrived, that the small group of revolutionaries were able to share their fantastic news.

Though fantastic was a relative word. There were some who were relieved. Those that made their living by the sea had a celebration of their own. But it was, as it always is, those stuck in the middle who had a more nuanced opinion about things. The magicians whose magic was useless, the knights who now had no one to defend, and the people who'd put their full faith in the royal family through it all. Even though there was plenty to be happy about, the festivities only stretched so far.

And in this mixed atmosphere, the newly christened heroes made their way back home. "Borrowing" a royal horse who'd been freed from the stables during the fire, Asha had fashioned a sled-of-sorts from the remains of a door. Tramping along down the winding streets, she handled the animal poorly. Nervous and terribly uncoordinated, every misstep was followed by a low groan from the boy skidding behind her. Less than enthusiastic, Sol sat awkward on the charred wood. His legs too long to fit, he was forced to bend the good one underneath, while the broken limb took up the rest of the length. Cringing at every expression of pain, the girl couldn't apologize enough. He finally told her to stuff it after the twentieth "sorry."

By the time they'd reached the house, the sun had risen over the island once again. The guards, long since dispersed, had worn trenches deep into the earth. The evidence of their patrol scarring the land for years to come. But that was the furthest concern from Asha's mind. Seeing the door glisten in the new day, she breathed easy.

With careful steps the girl entered alone. Standing in the open doorway, her shadow reached across the small room, and draped over her mother. Sakina knelt on the floor. Her back to the newcomer, she mourned at the foot of an empty chair. Dread stifling in that space, the girl's torn shoes clunked against old boards. Each step bringing further regret, further discomfort, further sorrow. But no matter how close she got, the woman didn't notice her. Standing over the miserable figure, Asha could hear her cry. She inhaled sharp. She had to be strong. All her life she'd been, and she wasn't about to falter now.

A steady hand was placed on the woman's back. She startled, jerking around to find her daughter. Eyes rimmed with red, she didn't so much as call her name before Asha fell to her knees. Battling tears of her own, the teen focused on the floor. Babbling thousands of different apologies, switching between Castilian, then Persian, then back again in her frenzy. Trying to put words to her relentless shame. To beg forgiveness for the unforgivable. To say things that had to be said.

But she didn't get to finish. Sakina pulled her daughter to her. Wrapping her in an embrace that smelled of lavender and spice. Holding onto each other as dawn drifted to day, the two women wept. Both knowing, whether it had been spoken or not, that they were all that was left.

The next few months went by in a blur. An island in remission, people rebuilt what had been lost. Houses rose from the ashes, newly painted and flowering underneath the true sun. Children played in the streets, emaciated bodies were hidden underneath muscle and fat, and ships sailed freely from port. But despite the renewal, death had to be dealt with first. In the beginning weeks, bells rang throughout Rosas as crypts were opened again and again for the ones who'd not survived the crown's tyranny. Asha's grandfather among them, she cried anew when his final farewell came. Sealed behind granite, it would be the last time she would see his face. He now resided in her memories, not quite so clear as the days elapsed.

During these uncertain times, the magicians found their place in the kingdom rapidly changed. No longer sought after, nor regarded with deference, they were lost in the shuffle of the changing world. Though some did adapt. Taking up skills long deemed below them, they worked as hard as everyone else. But many didn't. Luisa and others of her ilk were quick to board ships to somewhere...anywhere. They took whatever stardust they had left to kingdoms beyond the sight of their maps. Perhaps they were in search of other meteors in lands yet untouched by magic. Perhaps they too would become kings and queens, wielding power that many, even they, didn't fully understand. Though this was something that vexed Sol, both teens knew it was nothing they could control. It may be that another kingdom like their own would be built on the backs of wishes. They only hoped that it would be ones unassisted by stardust.

However, the most spirited to-do out of all of this was, unsurprisingly, a political one. With their previous leaders stolen away to the night sky, what was to be done about their governance? There were many answers, but only two worth considering. One side proposed they take after those fellows on the British Isles. Establish a Parliament, and rule through representation rather than autocracy. To be new people for a new age! After all they were on the precipice of something great, they said. A Renaissance!

Asha would believe it when she saw it.

The other offered a more comfortable route. Forming small parties of representatives, they went to the continent to petition that Rosas be brought under the sovereignty of the peninsula. Certain that a far-off ruler would be too uninterested in the daily goings-on of some tiny island to bother policing them in any meaningful way.

It was unclear which side would prove successful in the long run, but no matter what, there was one stipulation that both camps agreed on. That there would never be another king, or queen, of Rosas. Especially a magical one. Whichever way the wind blew in the raucous debate, Asha wasn't interested. When the more loyal factions had attempted to court her as the new ruler, she rejected their advances. She had the same distaste as anyone else. And besides, she had much more important things to attend to. One of which was setting things right. The best she could.

And that was exactly what she was doing now. Or, talking herself into, more like. Standing in front of the water-logged door, she tried to find a reason to leave. The day was awfully humid. Feeling sweat collect in the small of her back, she wasn't sure if it was the weather or her nerves. She worried the ends of the scroll with her thumb, the material thinning at the top from her anxious movements.

"Mija, breath."

She was, but it wasn't helping any.

"What, are you just going to stand out here until night comes? Really, Mijita, I thought you were better than that!"

Her Baba's voice rang clear. She could feel the nudge between her shoulder blades. Yes, that's what he would say. Get on with it. Get over yourself. Face your mistakes because you've made plenty. Valentino shoved his snout into her limp hand. Smiling, she reached back and gave his wiry coat a scratch. Fully grown and as moody as ever, even he was tired of her dawdling. Well, that was it then. With a deep breath her knuckles rapped against the wood.

There was no answer at first, only the sound of seagulls and passing carts. Slow and uneven in their tread, she felt her neck prickle from the stares of all who went by. Biting her lip, she knocked again. This time there was a shuffling on the other side. Tentative hands undid the bolt. After some scrambling and stumbling, the door creaked open. In the thin crevice was a little girl, mousy in her faded dress and loosely plaited hair. Asha smiled, but it was not returned. Swallowing under the haunted gaze, the teen's sweaty hand crushed the parchment.

"Is your mother home?"

The child continued to stare, not even deigning her a blink.

Feeling like she'd have better luck consulting the family's cat, Asha sighed, crouching down to the little girl's level.

"If she's gone out, will she be back soon?"

Silence.

Valentino grumbled in the pause. The child's eyes lit, only for a second, as his head poked out from behind the teen's back. Catching on, the girl reached over and pulled the goat next to her. Swinging his head in protest, she gave his rump a light pat, "This is Valentino," she coaxed, trying to keep her voice light, "do you want to say hello?"

"What do you want?"

The words were forged from steel. Looking up slowly, Asha saw the rage upon the Señora's face. Her fingers gripped the scroll tighter, sure that the ink within had smudged.

"I come with an offering from the provisional assembly," she rose on shaking knees. Taking the decree in both hands, she bowed. The parchment quivering between them, "They wish to compensate for any ills done to-"

"Ills?" the voice was husky, "You think that little scroll will help us?!"

"It's an offering of financial support from the-"

"My husband will NEVER walk again!"

Icicles formed along Asha's spine. She didn't want to meet the woman's glare.

"How dare you come here and offer me scraps! Not when you watched it all and didn't say anything."

"Señora-"

"YOU LET IT HAPPEN!"

Her head shot up, "Please, I'm so sorry. If there's anything else I can do, just-"

"Give me a miracle."

The whisper struck true before the door slammed shut. The parchment fell from her limp fingers, unfurling against the cobblestones.

The fisherman, like a few unfortunates across the island, had awoken too late from his enchantment. It was a wonder that he hadn't died from blood loss alone. But the days spent walking around on his injury led to infection, then putrefaction. Town gossip had told her that the leg had been removed, but the man still sweat with fever. It was supposed that the bad blood had spread to his spine, fore he couldn't even turn in bed without screaming. The sailor who'd wanted nothing but to care for his family, now lay beyond those walls in daily agony.

Her throat constricting, the girl bent down and retrieved the abandoned scroll. Eyes stinging, no tears fell. She supposed that she had run out in the recent weeks. This hadn't been the first time she'd been yelled at. Passing out paper promises had its cost. Visiting the ones who'd been wounded, scarred, wronged. The ones who'd been duped into believing a lie. They weren't charitable in their acceptance, if they accepted it at all. Left to pick up what remained, many wanted someone to blame. Asha could understand that. Even though most recognized her as the reason for their tyrant's downfall, there were still others who remembered her loyalty and ambition. After all, she was one of the last remnants of the previous kingdom. An artifact from a time that most were desperate to forget.

Lips pursed and fingers stiff, she wedged the scroll into a notch between the door and the jam. Turning from that place, the wind brought her father's voice to her.

"Have courage Mija. Some wounds can't be healed."

She allowed herself a frustrated sigh as Valentino trotted after. The makeshift satchel swaying in his gait, it spilled over with broad proclamations and the litigious "I-owe-you's." Rubbing her eyes, she decided that she was done for the day. Good thing too because her schedule was full. Well...it was full every day. There was so much to be done. Even six months out, there was still buildings that needed to be re-erected, roads that needed mending, ports that needed-

"Found you!"

Asha barely processed the words before she was attacked. Gangly spider limbs wrapped around her. She yelped and sank the point of her elbow into her assailant's gut. Punching out the last of his air, a light wheeze saw her being released. Stumbling forward she could hear the struggling chuckle behind her.

"W-well............that's a....fine....'How-do.............you-do.'"

Sol?

Swinging around, she saw the boy flash her a wicked grin through ragged gasps, "Whadya been doing...pushups?"

"No, just moving bricks around," she set her hands against her hips, "Who told you that you can go about and jump on girls?"

"Not girls," he regained his composure. Closing the distance between, his blond curls framed his face, "just you."

She could feel the blush begin at the back of her neck, "Well I don't appreciate the fright!"

"Come on Asha! The only time I can do it is when we're out. Your mother's such a stickler about these things..."

"That doesn't mean you can pounce on me whenever you like!"

"But...." The boy started before he spotted Valentino. His jovial expression faltered as he caught on the satchel, "I thought this was your day off."

Following his line of sight she groaned, shifting over to block the goat from view, "I was getting a few things done ahead of schedule."

His eyes met hers and she silently cursed.

"I don't understand why you're making yourself so miserable."

Why couldn't his spooky mind-reading powers have gone away with the rest of his magic? She couldn't hide anything from him!

"I'm not miserable."

He lifted an eyebrow.

"Alright, I may be a bit miserable. But it isn't about this. I'm just tired is all!"

"Explain to me how being a grunt for the replacement monarchy-"

"Council!"

"'Council,'" he drew quotation marks in the air, "is going to make you happ-"

"What happened to your hand?!"

"Huh? Oh..." the boy shoved the sloppily bandaged thing behind his back, "it's very small...minor really...," his voice sheepish.

Asha held her hand out, her voice scolding, "Let me see it."

The boy fidgeted.

"Let. Me. See. It."

"Fine," he mumbled, laying it down over her palm.

Finding the appendage tightly wrapped in its burial shroud, the girl gave him her own skeptical look.

"'Minor' huh?" she started to undo the hasty knots.

"Ah, ah!" he pulled his hand back, shoving it under his arm, "You probably don't want to see."

"I don't?" she challenged.

"Err...well um, I had an accident with the hearth. The poker was sharper than I thought......aaannnnyyywayyyy...there was loads less blood this time!" He held up the bundled mess, his fingers wiggling above it, "Instantly cauterized!"

She paled. Kneading her brow, she was getting a headache. A horrendous one too, it felt like a needle stabbing her eye over and over, "I thought we talked about this-"

"Your mother needed help, so I helped," he shrugged, "Though I must admit, it made her faint a bit - SHE'S BETTER-" he pivoted before the fear could take roost, "fine actually, just a bit...ehm.....surprised shall we say?"

The girl shaded her eyes against the sun. Agh, how bright it was! And only making her migraine worse!

"I guess I have to get with Yemma about your...issues...." she murmured more to herself.

Sad brown eyes took in all she was. Dreadfully beautiful under the natural sun, raven hair was knotted and kept away from her face. Peasant dress, patched for sure, but upon her figure was a rainbow blowing in the summer breeze. Her hazel eyes big enough to hide entire worlds, were so lost in their refracted light, it was hard to discern the shadows. Oh, how she bewitched him! His heart struggled to keep time in her presence. Nearly lethal, she was a dream he'd never stop chasing. Reaching for her hand with his uninjured one, he sighed, "I just want you to be happy."

Pulling from that electric touch, she answered from a foot away, "I am."

Sol winced, averting his gaze, he didn't say anything. The lie tasted bitter.

Asha went back to nursing her headache. Her attention dropping to the cobblestones below, she spied her shadow.

Shining stars! Was it that time already?! Dahlia was going to kill her! Never mind Simon! Though his name still curdled her stomach, she beat herself up all the same.

"Come one," she grumbled, "We're going to be late." Turning on her heel, she started walking uphill before the boy caught her. His hold affectionate but firm, she stopped mid-step.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," she rasped before she slid from his touch and raced up the incline.

****

Afternoon was fast retreating as Simon took another swing at the makeshift dummy. It was only a couple of feed bags stacked atop a stool, but as he stuck the "belly" with his blade, he thought it was realistic enough. Dislodging the sword, another stream of grain fell to the growing crowd of chickens at his feet. Stepping back to admire his handiwork, he watched the enemy bleed out through eight precise holes.

Glancing over he grumbled, "Where are they?"

Dahlia blinked, leaning against the low fence, she readjusted her hold on the crutch, "I don't know, but I'm sure they'll show up."

The boy grunted. Raising his weapon again, he fell into that religiously practiced stance. Sweat wetting down his hair, the baker could see the definition of muscles through his damp shirt. They were carved from hours of drilling the same parries and jabs. Gone was the pasty pallor and tired eyes, here was a young man eager to take a chance at the world before him. New freckles speckled his skin. All over his hands and down his arms, they worked to blur the pox scars they found. Whatever wasn't speckled was burnt and peeling. The girl winced to see the back of his neck, beet-red under the unforgiving sun. But again he swung. Hole number nine tore open before two boys came screaming past, ducking underneath the arc of the falling blade.

Simon jumped back. His sword abandoned; it was suspended mid-plunge in the sack. He called after the two rascals. Yelling and threatening as well as he could. Though going by the little grins he got back, he wasn't very scary. Dahlia couldn't help but giggle as she watched him, exasperated, take out the blade and wave it around like a hooligan. Angry explanations of how the two boys had narrowly evaded death, turned into howls and erratic foot stamping. Finding the display very entertaining, the kids couldn't stop laughing. The harder they laughed, the more Dahlia did, her carefully hidden snickers finally exploding into an unladylike guffaw.

Sounding somewhere between a donkey and a duck, the knight-in-training turned to watch the girl roar. His irritation melting away, when the baker came up for air, she was met by a wistful smile. Looking at each other in that strange new way, they quickly dropped eye contact. The children, now bored with their insecure older cousin, jumped the fence and ran off down the road. Most likely off to find more trouble. Simon didn't have any intentions of stopping them either. Short of protecting them from certain death, he much preferred it when they were away from the house. It was startling how cramped a place could become when two young boys were added to the mix. Two young boys who'd been orphaned in the wake of the siege. Another tragedy to add to the long list of casualties wrought by the old guard. Setting his mouth, the squire split open the dummy's chest. A slew of food rained down. The hens went ballistic.

Dahlia hid her burning face under her hand. The hot sun only making the situation worse, she was soaking wet under the unrelenting heat. Ugh, she felt like a loaf of bread, slowly rising in the oven. Catching the flicker of movement as his sword raised again, her heart jolted. Ever since that day in the woods, an unspoken affection had existed between them. Neither party daring to breach the topic, a psychological tug-of-war had commenced. Where burning words and tempting thoughts were put aside for the sake of the other. Because what if they were rejected? Sure, they may have had a moment of release, but wasn't that simply one friend knocking sense into the other? So what if she had told him kind things? He'd had a sword shoved against her bosom. So what if he had clung to her the way he had? He'd just been freed from some horrible spell. Yes, maybe none if it mattered, maybe they were both overthinking it. It was nothing really....

So what?

They looked at each other again, their mutual thought hanging there so wretchedly obvious.

"You coward!"

Dahlia was the first to break. She gulped down daggers as that ugly voice tickled her ear.

"Too weak and dull to say something. Not that I blame you, he'd probably laugh anyway."

With the boy going back to his regimen, her threat leaked through clenched teeth, "Leave me alone."

"Awww, but you're so much more fun when you're angry."

"Shut up!"

"Tisk, tisk... but if only you could spare a bit of that spirit for him, then maybe you wouldn't be alone all the time."

"Go to H-"

"I bet you'll stay just like this for the rest of your life. Always watching and waiting. While some other girl takes the lead and makes him leave you behind."

She felt that cold fist around her heart, twisting, wringing, smothering. Her breath caught for a second and she bent over, her free hand pressed against her chest. She could feel her palm slide clammy against the handle of the crutch. Was that her fate? To sit by while everyone else lived around her. To be there with a smile and a few nice words to get them on their way. Her brain flicked through stacks of future scenes. Scenes where Simon was happy without her. Where he was with someone else besides her. Some shadowy woman whom she'd never meet. Her heart beat against the frigid grasp. Pumping through stiff fingers and doubt. Always doubt.

Have confidence Dahlia.

That cellar conversation filtered through her muddled thoughts.

You have plenty, just find it.

The vise loosened for a second. Stamping down the shadow that held her captive, she screamed at the boy's back.

"I LIKE YOU A LOT, YOU KNOW!"

The blade clattered to the ground. Dispersing the chickens for only a second before they continued their feast. His face, slack with shock, was slow to turn.

Feeling the shadow move against her, she threw herself ahead of its poison words, "I have for a while! I know I'm not much, but you can give me the courtesy of hearing me out, alright?"

"Dahlia..."

"I don't know-" she was quick to interrupt, "-maybe we can spend more time together. Something like that. I-I could help you practice....a-and..." she felt those icy tendrils coil around her again, "....m-m-maybe I can show you...h-how to bake....and...."

Simon shook his head, "Dahlia..."

She beat back her apprehension, "And don't you dare laugh!"

"I-I'm not-"

"Then how about it then?!" her glasses flashed as she drew herself up as tall as she could.

The boy was wordless. His hands absently searching for his dropped weapon, he couldn't take his eyes from her.

"WELL?!"

The sword in his hand, he tried to sheath it, but kept missing. It wasn't until the fifth try that it slid, rough, in its scabbard. Watching the short girl as she fumed, he couldn't help but chuckle at that red face of hers. Why, she looked like a tomato! And that cropped hair was certainly not helping! His hands were on his knees, slapping them in his fit. Tears streaming down his face, the baker only grew more cross. Oh, what an imbecile he'd been! This whole time, this entire bleeding time, she'd felt the same way! He was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe.

"Fine then, good night!"

Every muscle tensed in her body to keep from sobbing. She wouldn't allow his cruelty to get to her. How wicked he was, to laugh! Couldn't he be more of a gentleman about this?! Was it really that hard to-

"Hey, wait!"

She stopped; the leather clasp fell through her fingers. She heard the footfalls approach her. Closing her eyes, she counted down the seconds before her composure expired. She breathed in deep, whirling to face him, her mouth was teaming with insults. Prepared to run him through, and leave him bleeding, her tongue was sharpened...waiting...

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

She choked, "Wha?"

"I-I never thought I...heh..." he swept his forehead, pushing up his sweaty hair, "...I mean...are you sure...I always thought you were too good for me...you know?"

Now she gagged, pointing between them she stuttered, "You...I...and...with..." she lifted the crutch and he nodded. Flabbergasted, she spluttered "Really?!"

The shadow reeled with her as she came to grips with what had been right in front of her the entire time. A smile that could span the Mediterranean lit across her face.

"I don't think the two of us could be more thick if we tried!" she giggled.

"No, definitely not," offering her his arm Simon smirked, "But we can give it our best shot."

She looped hers through his, "You're on!"

"On what?"

The two started, disengaging from their flirtations to see Sol and Asha staring at them from outside the yard. Blushing and fumbling with nonexistent loose threads, the two coughed their way out of the awkward situation. Distancing themselves a good several feet, their shared glances were conspiratorial. Taking in the deflated feed bags, the sea of chickens, and the pair caught in between, the blonde boy gave the stressed girl a nudge, "I think we already missed the party."

Looking after his urging, she had to agree.

"Well," he announced, hopping the fence with a mallet held aloft, "Come on, this barn isn't going to rebuild itself!"

Asha was quick to disarm the boy before any further damage could be done. Collecting her thoughts, in the lull, she noticed how Simon shifted. His eyes flicking back and forth between her and the ground. Even though half a year had passed, the deeds done still hung around their necks. Her exhale came out in a low whistle. Something that Sol had been teaching her as the weeks had gone by. Inviting herself into the yard through the gate, she offered the confiscated tool to the squire, handle first. It was difficult, but she managed a half-smile.

"I'll hold and you'll hammer, deal?"

Simon's expression didn't change as he took up the mallet, but a brief nod cleared the atmosphere. It may have been fractured and tedious, but it was not beyond fixing. No matter how demolished, their friendship would be rebuilt, one nail at a time.

****

"And that's Betelgeuse. He's an odd one. A bit mad, but harmless. Now Bellatrix on the other hand...."

The two teens lay atop the thatch roof. Sakina slumbering inside, they had taken care to sneak out together in accordance with their nightly ritual. Agreed upon first as a simple diversion, then swiftly after as a necessity. Made so because of the propriety strictly enforced by the house's matriarch.

Sol hadn't even had the chance to say hello before being banished to Sabino's old quarters, and was told - on no uncertain terms - was he to climb to the second floor. Or else suffer the promised-to-be-apocalyptic wrath of Yemma. Fore, within the pure chaos that was the universe, if there was one thing that Sakina could control, it was to be her daughter's courtship. The end of the world could come, and Asha was sure that her mother would still guard her room from anyone of the male persuasion.

And they let her have her fantasy, neither brave enough to admit their close living quarters only a few months back. With this understanding, the two took their stolen moments where they could. Chaste kisses in the dark, holding hands in the market, and longing glances over the dinner table.

Though right now, she was enjoying a simpler vice. Relishing how the summer night felt against her skin, she stretched, looping her arms behind her head. Her hair bunched where they crossed. She wore it loose anymore. It felt better this way, lighter even. Granted, most of the time she had it pulled up underneath a scarf. Still, in moments like these, she liked how it bobbed in the briny breeze.

Resting easy, she should have been clandestinely happy, but that persistent little knot kept tugging at her gut.

"....and would you believe it, she made the whole planet turn red!"

"Wow," the girl responded, her voice distant in her own ears.

Sol's mouth flattened, flipping to his side, he set his chin in his palm, "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?"

"You know very well what. The thing that's gotten you so tied up recently."

"It's nothing, Sol," but in the time talking with him, she took care to focus on the twinkling lights of the city.

Squinting down at her, he rolled onto his stomach. Looking out upon the canopy of trees he mused, "Not everyone is going to forgive you, you know."

Her fingers knotted in her hair.

"They're not obligated to either," he shrugged, "It's charity on their part if they do."

"Aren't you just a ray of sunlight?"

His shoulders tensed, "I'm being honest."

The girl sat up, starting to slide along the slopped roof, "Yeah, well, I'm not in the mood for honesty tonight."

"What? Did you think everyone was going to accept your apology? Some may, but there's always going to be someone who won't."

"Thanks for the pick-me-up," she muttered, rising to balance on the beam.

"It doesn't mean that you can't prove them wrong."

She paused in her retreat.

"I mean, do you really think it's helping anyone? You handing out little slips of paper? Does it really make you happy?"

"It doesn't matter if it makes me happy. I'm fixing things. Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?"

"Empty promises more like. No better than the king's 'wishes.'"

"But the council-"

"Is full of weak people vying for power," Sol grumbled, watching how the forest breathed in the wind, "Seems to me like they're using you up like everyone else."

Asha pivoted at that. Her peasant dress floating around her, she marched along where the timbers ran. Standing over the reclining boy her anger changed her voice to something small and trembling, "Then you tell me what I'm supposed to do! Everything is such a mess...and I....I'm trying...so hard, I'm trying!" Despite herself, she started to bawl. Tears not used up after all, they'd been waiting for her to crack. She hid her face from him, shaking like the trees around them.

"Asha..."

His hands were on her shoulders. She hiccupped.

"Asha..." his breath was in her ear, "there's better ways to help people."

"Like what?"

The light touch of his fingers nudged her face up. The milky way spilled over the fabric of space, "There may not be a lot of wishing stars, but there's certainly plenty of others. Some can tell the future, others give great advice..."

"Is this another excuse to talk about your extended family?"

"No!" he scoffed, before thinking for a second, "Err...kind of..."

Asha finally looked back then. Her eyes still damp, she managed a dubious smirk.

"What I'm saying is, that the stars are often a far better help than humans are."

"Umm... I think you may be forgetting about somebody called Cassiopeia."

He rolled his eyes, "Ok, so there are some rougher ones...but..." he spun her around. Meeting her gaze, memories of magic swirled there, "...that's where you come in!"

"Me?!"

"Yes, Asha!" the excitement so great, he leapt, almost plunging through the thatch and into the room below, "There needs to be someone to sort out the good from the bad. To guide contact between humans and stars!"

"What? You're telling me I should find another hurricane and call down some of your friends?"

"Exactly that!" he whooped, "And maybe not even a hurricane. I'm sure we can find a way that they can hear you plenty loud right here!"

She studied the sky again, the multitudes of stars winking back made her head spin, "Sol..."

"Cairo isn't that far away."

No, it wasn't. Asha chewed on the inside of her cheek.

"And I'd go with you!"

"Woah, woah, woah!" the girl stepped back, giving herself enough room to think, "I might....might....be able to convince Yemma to let me travel to study. But there's no way she'll let the two of us go off unattended. Do you want to end up in an early grave? Because she will make that happen-"

"-because we're not married?"

"Y-Yes, exactly that!" the girl swallowed, worrying her hands in her skirt.

Sol threw back his head, "Ay, humans and their customs! Very well then," shoving his hands in his pockets, he sidled up to Asha, "Wanna get married?"

She took a second to process the question. It was all so casual...even dull...ludicrous and.....

Making a slew of different noises while the boy waited patiently, she was eventually able to string together something coherent, "That's how you're going to ask me?!"

"Yeah," he tapped his toe against the strut beneath them, "What's wrong with it?"

"Oh...just...everything," she warbled, her heart beating out its panicked tune, "Would it kill you to....I don't know...be more romantic?"

"Romantic...hmmm," he tapped his chin, "What like-" he pulled the girl close, Resting his forehead against hers, all went quiet as the world dimmed, "Asha, daughter of the brave Tomàs and noble Sakina. Granddaughter of the esteemed Señor Sabino, and keeper of the capricious goat Valentino. Would you do me the utmost honor of becoming my wife?" he paused for effect, watching the violent blush turn her purple, "Is that better?"

She fought to find her voice, "Better...but," her teeth glinted in the cloudless night, "I could do without the bit of sarcasm at the end."

"You're asking me to do it again?"

"I won't say yes unless you do it right!"

"There's a wrong way to do this?! It's just a question!"

"Yeah, that's exactly how you've been doing it so far."

His head fell, his curls swaying, "Incredible."

"Hey, you're the one asking me. Make it worth my time."

His eyes pleaded with her, "Why are humans so complicated?"

"I don't know," she smiled, lacing her arms underneath his, she hugged him. She felt his muscles relax as he melted with her, "Maybe it's not something we're supposed to know. We wouldn't have room to wish otherwise, right?"

"I guess so," his lips pressed against the top of her head. His voice was tender, soft, as it caressed her ears and cradled her heart "Marry me?"

Smiling at the glittering heavens above, the answer came easy.

Chapter Text

"Oh Asha," Sakina clucked, "Almost nineteen and still growing like a weed. I can't keep up with you!"

The young woman looked over her flared hem. A bright poppy red, it was wrapped around an orange underskirt. The colors of a Mediterranean sunset, they told of a moment between moments and place between places. That sacred time where night and day were equidistant and the stars just beyond the horizon. A view only afforded to sailors and those who dreamed. Her fingers brushed the fabric, smiling.

"Arms up!"

A rod went through her back, and she quickly assumed the proper stance.

Her mother muttered through a mess of needles and ribbon, "I have half a mind to keep you home, you know. This dress is an absolute mess! I knew I should have bartered for that extra bolt. Now your ankles are on display for all to see. Ack!"

"Yemma!"

"And don't you go off saying that you'll be fine. I married into a family of sailors. I know what those good-for-nothing-"

"But Yemma, I will be accompanied."

Sakina stopped, giving her a look that could freeze lava, "Yes, but he has the attention span of a gnat."

"He's just excitable...that's all. He's only been human for a year."

The older woman's tongue clicked, shaking her head as she fought with a tangled bit of thread, "I knew your grandfather's stories were trouble."

"But we're still here, aren't we? Rosas is still here. It wasn't all bad."

A beleaguered sigh, "No, it wasn't."

The silence that fell was mutual. In some ways it was comforting, if not a little sad. Both knew that it would be a long time before they stood like this again. Mother and daughter, squabbling about this or that. Lamenting about time and how short it truly was. All taken out on the poor dress as it was tucked and pinched into position. It was something of a tradition in their little house. One that would be broken in the coming years abroad. The younger woman swallowed back the thickness accumulating in her throat.

Her mother brokered the quiet. Starting to titter about this or that, she went on about how much material she had to let out in the chest and how wide she had to make the hip. No longer willowy, Asha had become a woman. Quite a surprise to herself, but even more shocking for her mother. Sakina's heart tugged as she had shaped the new figure. She knew this person well. She knew her quirks, her likes, her shortcomings and boundless potential. But when she had to piece together the new corset, she was bewildered to find someone new. Understated in her strength, and sure of foot, the girl was eager to see places her mother had never even dreamed of. Places that were far, mysterious, and perhaps even dangerous. Pausing in her work, Sakina looked up at her child. The candle flickering, her breath caught. In the moment between blinks, she saw her husband reflected back. Perhaps it was the light, or the position of Asha's face, but the grief wasn't logical nor was it merciful. Ah, the wanderlust never ceased, did it? The call of the sea infected all those nearest her. They all had to leave.

Why must they always leave?

Cutting the thread on her teeth, she tied off the excess. Telling her daughter to turn, she watched the fabric float by. Light and graceful, it rode the air. It was done. The weight on her chest growing heavier, Sakina murmured, "Habibti, you're beautiful."

Lowering her arms slow, Asha took the skirt in both hands before stepping down from the stool. Spreading it wide, she giggled. Parading around the room, she pranced about in the new dress. With a spin, the woman once again became a little girl. The same one Sakina had spent many a sleepless night with, worrying over every sniffle, tearing her hair out with each bruise. For one brief second, all was how it had been. Her daughter small and joyful, her husband alive and well, her father-in-law without a cough in sight. But as the young woman finished her rotation, the illusion vanished like the enchantment before it. Still knelt on the floor, the ground beneath her felt mysteriously cold. Her fingers buried in the folds of her skirt; the older woman rose on stiff knees. Everything was aching anymore. She supposed that was what happened with age. There was a time for blossoming, but also for wilting. Grabbing hold of the new bloom, she could feel the passage of time rushing by. Scars chafed against scars as she squeezed her daughter's hands. Feeling the energy and resilience of those young fingers.

Sakina's eyes watered, "Why must you go so far from me?"

"Oh Yemma, it won't be very long. Only for study. After that I'll come back."

The mother's lips tightening, she wiped away an imaginary smudge on the young woman's face, "I've been told that many times, habibti. I'm afraid I have a hard time believing it now."

"Yemma," Asha sighed, leaning in her mother's affectionate gesture, "I'm not Papa and I'm not Baba. I will come back. I promise."

Shaking her head, Sakina gave her daughter a light smack.

Startled, Asha pulled her hand from her mother's and covered her cheek.

With a sniff, the older woman turned and started to pick up the scraps strewn across the floor, "You better because I don't have enough money for another burial plot. You'll have to save up for that yourself!"

Grin stretching wide, the young lady hugged her mother from behind. Her arms wrapping around her in that desperate way, back when her worst fears were the monsters underneath her bed, "Thank you," she murmured, "For everything. I will make it up to you. Trust me."

A shaking hand patted where those red sleeves intersected, "Ah, Asha, you already have."

"No Yemma!" she exclaimed, jumping before her mother, her hazel eyes were bright, "I'm going to help people. Really help them. No magic, no strings attached, or deals made. I will make it up to you, I'll make it up to everyone. So don't worry, I'll come back. Sooner than you think!"

Chuckling at the wonder of it all, the older woman lamented, "You are your father's daughter!"

"And proud of it!"

"I wouldn't be so eager about that..."

"What do you mean?"

"Because," Sakina stepped over to the window, lifting the curtain she regarded the setting sun, "Exactly like your father, you're always late."

"Wha-" but her line of thought was cut off as her mother drew back the drapes further and revealed the scarlet horizon.

With a shriek, the young woman searched for her boots. Finding them beside the door, she wrestled her way into them. Stretching the leather out of shape in the process. Her hands were frenzied, grasping her cloth knapsack and wrapping her hair in a traveling kerchief. She darted about, no time to take one last look at the house, no time for drawn out goodbyes, no time for misty eyes. The sundial was turning dark, and she needed to go. Throwing open the door, she was stopped by the sharp call of her mother. Laden with provisions for the journey ahead, it took a fair amount of effort to turn around. Her hands full, the woman embraced her despite the heavy load.

"Come back, that's all I ask...come back."

"I will," she sighed, her arms already growing tired from the immense weight, "I wouldn't want to be married anywhere else!"

"And," her mother released her then, moving to fiddle with something hidden in the pockets of her apron, "you will carry a bit of protection with you!"

"Protec-"

A purse was shoved in the daughter's face. She went cross eyed as it dangled in front of her nose.

"Salt!" Sakina proclaimed, "Plenty in the ocean, but not nearly enough on land!"

Asha was dumbfounded. Watching the saffron bag twirl on its sturdy cord, a snort escaped. Her mother's fervor wavered. The bag lowering, embarrassment wove its way through her confidence. Seeing this, the young woman dropped her collection of sacks. Sakina cried in dismay, going on about how late she was, and that she would miss the boat, and to not worry if she didn't want to take it. It was all probably nonsense anyway! Besides, where was there room for superstition when there was no more stardust to be had?

Wordless, the daughter gently took the small purse from those anxious fingers and tied it around her waist. Her heart constricting as it fell heavy against her hip. Like the stardust from long ago, it offered her comfort. Sure, it was useless, but that didn't matter. Whether it was magic or not, her mother believed it to be, so it was. Besides, it felt good to have the weight at her side again. It was something she had dearly missed as the months had passed. And though she hoped there would never be another meteor to fall, she did understand the desperate hope of the magicians long gone.

She gave the small bag a pat, "May no evil touch us."

"And may luck be on your heels...now GO!"

Picking up the hefty sacks, Asha was out the door and down the road. Valentino bleated after her from his pen. Stopping at the bend, she rolled one of the bags up onto her shoulder and waved. Only a pinprick against the thick greenery, Sakina raised her hand as the goat quieted down. The pair watching on as the young lady turned on her heel and was swallowed by the forest.

It was goodbye, but not for long. Leaning against the door frame, the mother drew her shawl closer. Summer was at its end. The smoky promise of autumn leered over its back, with winter only a few steps behind. How appropriate, she mused. The breeze picked up in the darkening dusk. Nursing her maternal anxiety, she heard her name. She didn't bother looking around, she knew who it was. Her head leaning against the warped wood, she answered.

"Ah, Tomás! You've made it so hard for me. Raising our wild daughter on my own," distant eyes come to clarity, they still glistened in the failing light, "What am I to do with you both?!"

"She'll be fine, Sakina."

"Yes, but she's half of you, Eshgham," she chuckled, "You left me quite the trial."

"But you did well, mi corazón."

She filled her chest with the evening air. Feeling the ghost of his embrace, she was warm again. Fireflies came to life in the clearing, frolicking under the rising moon.

"I love you."

"And I you."

The memory of their vows still fresh on her lips, she gave voice to their promise, "Until the end of time."

"Until the stars burn out."

The dusk yielding to night, she felt the presence begin to wane. Her fingers tight in the knit fabric, she told him what she hadn't the chance to five years before.

"Goodbye, mi amore."

With the last colors of the sunset receding, she stood alone. The past finally gone its own way, while she went hers.

****

Asha ran as well as she could down the uneven planks. The dock, normally teaming with people, was muted and lethargic as she stumbled along. Ramshackle and rough, she mentally checked off another area that desperately needed attention. Who knew how long it would be until she got back? Maybe she ought to leave a note or something...

"There you are!"

Above those splintered timbers were Dahlia and Simon, as patient as they could be after waiting for nearly an hour. The baker was sat atop a barrel, with her crutch braced against her knee, while the squire leaned next to her. His arms crossed; he looked good in the new uniform. The crest displaying the city's namesake, a red rose sat triumphant over a bed of thorns. Reaching them, she dropped her load, the muscles in her arms turned to jelly from the burden. Taking a second to catch her breath, she was nearly bowled over. Dahlia becoming quite spry, all but tacked her to the ground. Taking a few wobbling steps to gain her balance again, her friend only squeezed her tighter. Yikes, it was getting a bit hard to breathe!

"Dah...lia..."

"I can't believe you're leaving!"

"Yeah....you and...my mother both..."

"I think Asha needs air," Simon snickered.

"Ah! Oh right!" the short girl sprang back, allowing the young woman to place a hand to her side and check for bruising.

"Goodness," she shook her head, "What a grip you have Dahlia!" she winked at Simon, "You'd better not tick her off any time soon."

"Wasn't eager to!" the boy snorted, his beau giving him a half-hearted nudge.

Allowing the two a second to flirt, she glanced around the area. Looking for someone who'd bolted out of the house shortly before dawn. Someone who had absolutely no concept of time, but still managed to get to everything incredibly early. Where did he get the energy? Not finding him, she voiced her thoughts to the two lovebirds, "Where's Sol? I thought he was already here?"

"Yeah, he is," Dahlia broke from her teasing and pointed toward the rigging hanging high above, "According to the stewards he's been there since morning."

"Oh!" she laughed at the figure suspended a good sixty feet in the air, "Eager as always."

"You're sure you'll be alright?" her friend worried, "It's a whole other country, you know! A whole different continent?!"

"Now, you're really sounding like Yemma. I'll be fine!"

"And setting sail in the dark? How are you going to navigate the shallows? Without the su-"

"Dahlia," her tone was pointed, reaching down for her things, "there is no better time for sailing than night! The stars are the most reliable compass you can find," she took up one of the sacks before Simon leapt forward to pick up the other two. Holding his arm out for the one she already shouldered, she shook her head. She would carry at least one herself.

The trio shuffled up the gangplank one after the other. Weighed down with the necessities of a life abroad, they were quickly met by the crew. Hardened with their salt-bleached hair and skin roughened by countless squalls, they glared at the young woman finally making her appearance. Their coarse tongues held, their shared expression was clear, 'Took you long enough!'

Giving a sheepish wave, she threw her load down on the deck.

The sailors set to scrambling around her, busying themselves with making the final preparations before shoving off. Callused hands worked quick on ropes tied to who-knew-what along the vessel. The sharp barks and brusque language hurried the friends in their farewells. A quick hug for Dahlia, a firm handshake for Simon, then the promise of a wedding at her return. Well wishes and blessings shouted across the widening distance as the two were forced to rush ahead of the eager hands pulling up the plank. The insults became louder. The men were lazy, good-for-nothing, scalawags. What were they doing lounging about? Move it you louts! ALL HANDS ON DECK!!

They were on their way.

But high above the hectic group, the young woman's attention was centered on the boy who watched it all. A smile on her lips, she was buffeted and shoved by the crew who rushed past. Moving through the tumult, she grabbed onto the netting that reached toward the tallest mast. Sticking her feet in the loops, she pulled herself up, one rung at a time. The deck was so chaotic, no one noticed the lady in her ascent. The wind blew ripples along the rope. Sweaty palms slipping against the hemp, she kept going. Knowing full well that this was quite idiotic and horrendously dangerous. But the closer she got to the young man, the more assured her grip became.

Reaching up the final length, her hand slapped the weathered wood. Sol started at the sound, only to turn and find Asha, flushed, but victorious.

"I...I can't...believe," she puffed, looking for purchase, "...that you....made me.....climb...in a.....dress...." Her other hand freeing itself from the netting, she tried to haul herself up, only to find her foot stuck. A cold sweat washed over her as panic stopped her heart. Struggling like an animal in a trap, her hold slipped against the post. She didn't have time to scream before Sol quickly grabbed hold of her wheeling arm and jerked her up with him. She crushed his neck as she held fast, looking down at the deck which surely would have shattered her skull.

"Nice...to see you," coughing around her grasp, she burned him through his clothes, "But...what are you doing...up here?"

Her heartbeat slowing, she tore herself away from her imagined doom, "Excuse me! That's my question!" Slowly removing one of her arms, she felt behind her until she could find the mast. Careful movements saw her shift over to sit next to him, still keeping her one arm behind his back for support, "Shouldn't you be down there with..." she began to gesture toward the scurrying ants below and nearly puked.

The young man chuckled, lightly bumping the underside of her chin with his knuckle, "It's better if you don't look down."

There was the barest keel, then the mast trembled. Pulling away from the docks, the sails beneath them swelled with evening breeze. Turning back, Asha saw the miniature figures of her friends waving at the both of them, perched high over the world. She nudged Sol, who was swift to give a wave of his own. The air ruffling his curls as they drifted away from the island and toward something new. Feeling the small tug of uncertainty, her fingers bit into her companion's arm.

He felt his cheeks grow warm. Ah, here they were already. Just when he'd begun to breathe again. Even a year out, he was rarely prepared for her touch. She moved closer and he almost fell off the rigging himself. He could feel her thigh push against his, the side of her chest on his arm, her breath upon his neck. Every nerve stood at attention; he couldn't help but feel like a funeral pyre within her hold.

Fighting against the bombardment of sensation, he managed to croak, "I-I thought you were fine with boats, no?"

"A little rowboat sure...not a proper ship!"

"Don't worry Asha, dear. You'll get your sea legs yet, it's in your blood!"

Her look would have been scathing if she hadn't had that greenish pallor about her.

Sighing, he tipped back to behold the night sky, thick with stars, "You know, the air's lighter up here. Helps clear my head, and it does wonders for seasickness!"

"I don't know how," Asha swallowed back bile, once again sizing up the distance between herself and the planks below. Wrenching her eyes away, she was breathing shallow, "I'm not joining you up here the next time you do this!"

He shrugged, settling into himself, "It's not for everyone."

"So why you? I doubt a clear head is the only thing bringing you all the way up here."

Nostalgia eclipsed his face. Dreamy and wistful, he smiled, "If I close my eyes, it feels like I'm flying."

Her short breaths stopped, "You really miss it, huh?"

"Sometimes," he murmured.

Letting her hand fall from his arm, she looked down at the disfigured palm. Slashed and ugly from her use of stardust, there had been a time when she would have worn those lacerations with honor. Now as that same hand tightened into a fist, she wrestled with her shame. They were only a reminder of the decisions she'd made. Poor, all of them. Decisions that had caused others harm, even killed a few. Like her Baba. Her heart seized. Only the warmth of Sol's hold, as it shrouded that defaced appendage, pulled her back to reality.

"I miss flying, like you miss magic," raising her ruined fingers to his lips, he kissed them. Goosebumps raced along her arm and down her back. His lips still positioned over her rough skin, she could feel every word pressed there, "No matter how distant, your soul will always be that of a magician and mine the one of a star."

"Oh..." she shrank away. But fingers were feathers against her cheek, pulling her back to him. To the secrets neither could hide, "But I wouldn't change it for the world."

Her pulse quickening, she gasped, "Neither would I."

"Good," he teased, leaning close to her, "I would hate it if you thought saving me was a mistake."

"Never," she breathed.

Their breaths mingling in the ocean breeze, they kissed under the starry sky.

During the next eight years, the city healed little by little. Comfortable under the peninsula's guidance, they flourished. Known as the Flower of the Mediterranean, they became a cultural oasis upon the sea. Re-established as a willing port between the Eurasian and African continents, ships came to their shores with renewed vigor once the siege was lifted. And with these ships came news of something spectacular occurring to the south. The Renaissance in full swing, it was carried to their shores within crates and barrels. It brought new ideas, contraptions, logic. The fever falling upon the populace, they were in wonder of what people could create when they weren't reliant on magic to do it for them.

It was this exciting atmosphere that the two explorers returned to. The astronomer and the philosopher, so far removed from their younger selves, that many disregarded them as vaguely familiar. Though those who had known the woman in her young life recognized her immediately. A mother ran to her daughter and embraced her, relief shown in tears and garbled speech. Friends reunited, shared stories, showed off children and told of the changes since the couple had left. A wedding was held, though it was small, it was conducted with the usual austerity and significance it was due. Even though the husband-to-be nearly dozed twice during the ceremony, the blushing bride having to elbow him every time she saw his head droop.

And once all was settled, it was decided that a lighthouse was to be built on the shores of Rosas. Tall enough to tempt the sky, its light shone over the harbor, casting its watchful eye over the shallows of the Spanish coastline.

But people did as they do and talked. Dubious of the new structure's purpose, rumors grew wings. It was said that the stars themselves visited that beacon upon the water. Several claimed that they watched the windows and saw all manner of celestial beasts pass by. They were shadows, sure, but they were certain of their inhumanity. There were also tales of the keepers themselves, the sunset woman and the starlit man. Some proclaimed the man to have been a star, fallen from the sky ages ago and turned human. Others insisted that the woman was a witch, though there was a softer term thrown about for her in accordance with the myth. A fairy godmother.

Whatever names they were given, there was one thing that was universally agreed upon. Dreams came to life within that tower. Those brave enough to seek it out would climb the steps with their troubles and leave without. Whatever council was given was never disclosed, but those who descended from the lighthouse always returned to the city inspired to try something new, to fix something that was broken, or bring joy to others. So perhaps there were stars that stopped in for a chat. Maybe something as mundane as a short talk over tea because the longer the light glowed, the more people visited. There came tales of puppets come to life, petulant pixies, and maids become princesses. Though they could have all been simply stories, little nursery rhymes meant to rock babes to sleep. Fore amid the endless march of time, it became harder and harder to find the lighthouse. As cities grew and blotted out the stars, people started to forget about the magic that once ran through the very soil of the island. It was the way of things after all, and the world moved well beyond its fables as the centuries progressed.

But some say on a cloudless night you can still find it. Nestled in a shallow cove, under the light of two lovers fated to reunite, the tower shines. Icing the waves that have risen around it, it stands triumphant beneath the vast sky. Knock on the door and someone may answer. A descendant of the original keepers perhaps. Waiting with a cup of tea and a warm smile. Waiting to hear your story. Waiting to call down a star.

Because sometimes we need a little help making our wishes come true.

- Fin