Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62637 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62637 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
She reaches a hand up toward the sky. “So, god of the sky, the great and mighty Horus, how do I know my star?”
“You won’t,” I say, sadness filling my soul. “You can reach as high as you want, but your star no longer exists… it fell long ago. It saw you—” Visions hit me so fast my mind barely registers them, so hard I nearly pass out. “It fought for you. And in the end,” I whisper, “your star, it died for you, died for your dreams, tried to fight your nightmares. Your star might one day be reborn, but today, your star is gone… all to save you.”
I never thought to look to the stars, but now I know. It’s as clear to me as the night sky, just another fragment of her past.
Her star sacrificed itself.
Why?
What is so important?
A star doesn’t just fall.
It has to choose.
And once a star falls, there is no redemption, there is no savior, only hope that one day the person they sacrificed for sees the truth for what it is.
She’s special. Not just to me but to others. I don’t know how or why. I see nothing beyond the fact that she has a darkness where her star used to shine.
A single star.
I stare up at the sky.
I am god of the sky.
I know these things.
“…We protect, we save, we love…” The stars sing in unison. “We are one. We are one. We are one.”
A star fell for this person next to me, the person with no memories, only tragedy, a person I want to kiss. A mere human, yet not.
I make a decision.
I will find her star.
I will save her.
Discover her secrets.
“What if it’s you?” A voice whispers in the wind.
Me? Her star? I am the god of the skies, but… I’m not a star. I merely communicate with them; it would be completely impossible. But it does make me wonder, for someone who knew every name of every star at some point, which one was missing during her pasts that’s still missing now?
In the end, wherever her star is, it will go back into the sky where it’s meant to be, and Kit, she’ll know her past; she’ll be at peace, even if it means my death. Maybe that’s the whole reason I’m here in this timeline, for this woman with tails, this person who can’t sleep during a full moon, who has nightmares, who has known tragedies.
What greater purpose would my life hold than to help someone become who they are meant to be?
I think long and hard as the silence builds between us, becoming almost a tangible entity. Then inspiration strikes. “Let’s go.” I grab her hand, she doesn’t see, but with my other hand, I wave off the stars and flick my wrist, allowing a dozen to soar across the sky like fireworks.
Show offs.
She gasps. “It’s beautiful!”
“Yes,” I say in finality, knowing I may not ever see the sky again. “It is.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
因果応報
inga ouhou
“Bad causes, bad result”; “karma” or “what goes around comes around”
~Japanese proverb
Horus
I stay longer than I should, grateful that I made the decision to delay my quest to the Abyss until after dinner. I watch my friends—or family—talk around the dinner table over the stupid chicken they decided to grab, and I laugh when Kit smiles along with them like she’s finally home.
It’s pretty, her smile. I like it a lot, and I remember it well. I don’t know how or why I keep seeing just bits and pieces or why I cannot seem to call to mind exactly who she is to me. I only recall sitting in a forest and promising her forever I had no business promising, even as a god.
She was so enticing, though, so perfectly imperfect. I don’t know why, but I’m pretty sure she bit me the first time we met and then licked my wound clean and apologized for her manners.
I scolded her… I think.
She held her head down. Her tails swept the ground, the shame easy to see as dust clutters around the fur. But she doesn’t know that what she does as a fox will always reflect in the stars, in the heavens.
I look up, and sure enough, she’s swiped the stars to the left, to the right, and then rested, staring directly up at Orion’s belt.
“It’s a good story,” I said, “of the warring angels.”
“What?” she asks. “You aren’t mad?”
“You’re easy to love,” I say simply. “And the skies, they change constantly. Sometimes it’s an itch from a fox; other times, it’s a breath of wonder from a human. A dozen lifetimes can cause the skies to move, but right now, you have Orion staring down at you. Angels and demons. I wonder what that means for your eternity… that they war for you.”
“What?”
“Sleep.” I press a kiss to her head. “Go to sleep, my precious fox. The thing about being a god—I worry for you, so you can rest. You rest, so you can wake up and find your destiny.”