Azrael chuckled at the question, a twinkle in his eye as he nods in agreement with the child. “You’re not the first to ask such things, for as long as there have been stars in the sky, there have been those who questioned why.”  His gaze tilts skyward, as if praying to the heavens, before continuing.   “She is right, about our ancestors.  Where I come from, they teach us that when we die, our spirits become stars.  They shine down to those we have left behind, guiding them and watching them… so we’re never alone.”  Azrael didn’t know if it was true, but the romanticism of it was enough that he wanted it to be so.

“But those… those aren’t stars… at least not the same type.  They are called metors.”  The astral bodies were a complicated concept, one which had many stories and legends behind them.  Rather than considering them a simple product of friction, he liked to muse over the possibilities.   “Some say that shooting stars are the gods prying open the cosmos to peer down at us.  That’s why we wish… for if the gods are looking down on us, they are certainly more likely to hear us.

Or maybe, they are an omen of something to come.”  Something dark, he mused… but Azrael did not share this with the child.  It simply wasn’t necessary to worry her, particularly on a night which ws meant for fun and celebration.   “When the stars turn and shift in ways like this, I find it’s always the start of something different.”

Azrael wasn’t a fortune teller, so he doesn’t elaborate further on what that something might entail, leaving it up to imagination.  Instead, he turns to the bonfires once more, watching the celebration with a lightness to his carriage.  It wasn’t often that the shed star saw fit to relax, though these days he was finding more and more opportunity to let go and embrace what might come.  For life was more interesting, he found, when moments were spontaneous.  

“What do you think?”  Azrael turns to Maeve and her companion, curious to know what her curious mind might think of the information.  For perhaps the child could make sense of the lore – he found that often, children were more perceptive and open to the possibility of something strange and wonderfully impossible.  It was simply the way they were built, all trust and fairy dust… and he, for one, wanted to learn from their insights and see the world through their innocence and wonder.

Azrael watched the child, noting the way her eyes followed him with a hint of reverence, and he smiled gently. Maeve did not hold him in the same regard of Elliana, in such that he was not her father (or a father figure), but there were so many similarities between them. Perhaps it is their natural innocence or their thirsty curiosity and need to wonder about the world around them. For their sake, Azrael hoped this was something they would keep forever, for life had a way of beating it out of adults, and they could all use a bit more optimism in life.

He stands easily beside her, watching the meteor shower and the filly at the same time, ensuring that no harm would come to her while in his protection. Around them, the party continued, but the youth maintained her steady wonder at the heavens, even as the night began to wear on. It was quite a celestial event to behold, far from the simple shooting stars which you might only catch a glimpse of once or twice a year (if you were truly looking), and he was content to sit and watch all night.

But the child’s patience grew thin, distractions weighing in as she stifled a yawn and looked to him with a sleepy and apologetic smile. “Go along then, you won’t miss anything… promise.” He grins to her encouragingly, watching her retreating form as his own gaze turns skyward once more.

Alone now, Azrael sighed and let the weight of the world wash away from him, allowing Caligo’s stars to relax him as they had so many nights before.  Others who had gathered began to thin and wane, leaving only the most steadfast of stargazers to their watching.  He paid them little mind, losing himself in the silence of the night, hushed appreciation lingering on his lips until the last star died into the darkness.  Only once it fell did he turn from this place, his heart fuller than before, climbing the mountains and finding himself alone in the darkness once more.