Full beautiful—a faery’s child,
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.
Aster is a wild thing.
There is nobody she answers to, no one she belongs to, except for the cheetah who sleeps curled around her like a comma and follows her like a shadow. Somewhere there is a brother, but she no longer misses his heartbeat beside hers, and the hollow space in her soul has long since been filled with the holy music of the wind and the waves and the storm. Only when she peers into a pool and sees her golden eyes assessing her does she think oh,, and feel like there is something she has lost. It is not a feeling she cares for, and so she runs with her cheetah a flash in the grasses before her, or lets him groom her with his rough tongue, or flies as high as she can until the cold brings tears to her eyes and his distressed pacing far, far below becomes something of a memory too.
But there is one place that calls her like a mother, one bond that lies buried but will not break. And not even Teak can follow her there, not with the bridge gone, and when she goes (as she must always go) he lies on the coast with his head between his paws and waits as motionless as a creature carved from wood.
She always knows when the island changes. She can feel it in her blood, or smell it on the wind, or hear it from the voices of the birds. And Aster does not always remember what it is that draws her back, but she always answers.
This time the change is blinding.
The morning sun shines like starfire, so brightly it is difficult to land. Aster tucks her wings in tight and hurtles downward, a falling star herself, and the wind howls in her ears and it is luck alone that she does not dash herself to pieces on the jagged teeth of crystals.
She stands alone among them, her breath fogging the surface of the nearest. There, distorted, her reflection observes her, and they are the only two living things in the world.
@Leonidas | <3
