That’s stupid. I sighed. “Are you saying I shouldn’t question anything then?”
It’s not that.” Alora shook her head. “But it’s about making sure you are asking the right questions. So many people get stuck in trying to answer questions they don’t need to have answered.”
“Or they actually don’t want to have answered,” Aleia added.
“Or if they ask about things that aren’t relevant to what they’re looking for?” I suggested. “That’s a lawyer trick, like circular reasoning or misdirection.”
Alora’s lips quirked up in a rueful smile. “I see you’ve been learning quite a bit on Earth.” She stepped forward and took my hand. “You have been consecrated for your task. You have learned, and you have my blessing as you continue on to capture the Sinisters and live your life.”
“I do want to know,” I said, “what I will do when everything is over. You know, when the Sinisters and Orpheus are captured and everything. I’ve learned about the past, and why I am in my own present, but what about the future?”
Alora straightened. “It is not for me to tell you what life will bring to you,” she said. “But I can tell you the purpose of your life is not just to seal away the evil you’ve encountered. There is much more to it—and you get to decide a great deal of it.”
“Is it possible I’ll be able to retire from the superhero business one day?” I asked. A small swirl of hope fluttered around inside of me at the thought. “I’ll be able to become a human? I could wish for that, right?”
A moment passed, and before she said it, I knew it was bad news. “You no longer have a wish,” Alora told me in a quiet voice.
I frowned. “But Adonaias said I was forgiven. Wouldn’t that mean—”
“No.” Alora shook her head again.
I sighed. It had to be enough that I was called, and I had answered, even if I wasn’t entirely certain why.
☼16☼
Surfing
We embarked on the Meallán soon after I left Alora. She sent us off with a flurry of pomp, hugging Aleia and even petting Elysian, who was still seemed pretty grumpy to me.
I decided I liked her, even if I wasn’t sure if I liked her answers. Or even some of her information.
She pulled me close in a hug as well before I left, giving me a cloak of friendship and well-wishes. She used the opportunity to warn me.
“I want you to know, there’s been another issue with Orpheus,” she murmured. “He has been talking with someone I can’t see.”
“Someone you can’t see?” I asked. “Someone outside of Time?”
“Or able to manipulate it.” Her breath tickled my ear as she whispered. “There are not many demons and minions of evil who can hide from me; other Stars or beings could be responsible. It could be trouble.”
“I’ll look into it,” I promised. “Though I’m not sure how.”
“We might have a traitor in our midst,” she cautioned. “So please be discrete.” Her eyes went to Elysian and Aleia, before landing on St. Brendan. I wondered if she could even mean her sister, or Elysian. Or was she even worried it could be Starry Knight? I was stricken by the thought, but before I could ask about it, she stepped back from the ship and it was time for us to leave.
“Please be safe.”
“That we will, Lady Time.” St. Brendan’s Irish brogue was complemented with a thick layer of respect and admiration as he gave her his own gallant farewell.
As soon as Alora’s star was just a spark on the horizon, he turned and grinned mischievously at me. “Are you ready to go surfing, then?”
I laughed, but it was only several moments later that I realized he was serious. I refused to worry about it. Right then, anyway.
Despite my intentions to keep St. Brendan at bay, I felt a kinship with him growing every time he laughed. And I was giving him plenty to laugh about, apparently, as I clung to the borrowed meteor-like surfboard in my hand. Its energy radiated from the core of the unique material. “Are you sure about this?” I asked, probably for the tenth time.
“You’re the one who should be sure,” he remarked cheerfully. His hands rested comfortably on the helm of the Meallán as he pulled in closer to a small sun. “Have courage, and you’ll be fine.” He pointed out to the growing surge of a solar flare. “Push off on your stomach and head for the top of the surf using your wings. Once you’re there, pull up onto your knees, and eventually onto your feet. Take your time; you’ve plenty of it.”
“I’ll be right there with you,” Aleia promised, tucking her long skirt into her boots so she could move more easily. “We have done this before, Hamilton,” she promised. “And you were great.”
“I’m still not sure about doing it now, though,” I retorted. “Should I practice some more on the deck?”
“You’ve practiced enough. Just try it.” St. Brendan grinned. “I’ll be along to pick you up by the time you finish riding out the wave.” He pointed out in the distance, to the left of the ship. “That there’s where we’re heading.”
Squinting past the surging solar flares, I saw it was actually a large tree, one of the circular ones, where the roots were tucked in and around the trunk. A small, bright river of sliver and red water flowed through its heart.
Resignation overcame me. “Alright.”
I balanced on the deck’s railing with my surfboard and let out a sigh. Chances were, I would not die. It was hard to say if that particular thought was less terrifying than thinking I would wind up looking silly. I’d never actually surfed before. On Earth, anyway.
“Go on now!” St. Brendan banked hard to the starboard side, and I felt the ship rock underneath me, I jumped as I lost balance, and grabbed onto the board’s edges tightly.
The celestial winds seem to pick up, allowing me to glide. It was similar to what I imagined riding over the water would be like, and I felt a nervous giggle escape me regardless. I looked forward to the bright sun before me, as a flare lashed out.
It was time to move. I slanted my wings to push myself in the direction toward the “wave” of the sun’s power; I shot toward it and, by the time it was close, I had relaxed. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see St. Brendan and some of his crew cheering me on.
I pulled up onto my knees as the pressure increased. I reached out my hands to steady myself, and, saying one last quick prayer, felt my confidence shift along with my balance as I rose to my feet.
“This is amazing!” I felt a strange sense of vertigo as I glanced below me, seeing no water or support; but I knew it was there, even if I couldn’t see it. My wings widened, slowing my speed a bit, and my hands flowered open to grab the wind and stardust as my board hit the warm wave of surging sunlight.
“Great job!” St. Brendan called out.
Applause and acclaim from others reached me as I glided along the waves. I tried a couple of tricks out, and was more surprised at how familiar the motion seemed to me.
A jump and a twist and a turnaround later, the flare had passed and my velocity dwindled. As he’d promised, St. Brendan was close by. Using my wings, I channeled the remaining energy to push toward his boat.
“Great going, lad.” St. Brendan commended me as he reached out and pulled me back onto the deck. “See? You always had it in you. I told you it wouldn’t take you long to enjoy it again.”
I slumped over on the deck. “That was awesome,” I agreed. “I can’t believe I ever forgot how to do that. It felt so natural.”
“As I’ve said, the River Veil is a tricky one,” St. Brendan assured me. He sat down beside me, checking the board over.
I watched him for a moment. “You said you knew me as the Star of Fire before. How come Lady Time said I was the Star of Mercy?”
The look of concentration lost its focus briefly. “Yes, I did know you, in both forms.” He looked over at me. “It is as I said earlier. Mercy is not earned. You were born as the Star of Fire, one of the first ones to be counted among Earth’s protectors. Before long, you grew
in power, and others noticed, including those who rebelled—the Warriors of the Second Light.”
“Did they trick me into joining them?” I asked.
“As I understand it, they wanted to bring down the highest orders of the Stars first and foremost. After all, they were rebelling, not just against the Prince, but all of creation in many ways.”
“Elysian told me of their leader before,” I suddenly recalled. “Alküzor.”
“Aye.”
“No one knew exactly why he decided to turn. Is that true?”
“No one can speak for another,” St. Brendan agreed. “But there are common traits of those who would separate from the Prince, with power and pride at the center of it all. If I’m allowed to have a gamble on it, I would wager those to be the primary reasons.
“But as for those who did rebel, they managed to take quite a bit of Stars and Angels along with them. One of them was Orpheus. And he wanted nothing more than to bring down Lady Justice.”
Starry Knight. No wonder Orpheus had been so angry to see her on Earth, I recalled. In seeing her for who she truly was, he had to have realized he failed in destroying her.
“He’d been a Leader Star in the Kingdom, in charge of the Seven Starry Virtues, and often known to others as a Star of Courage. Now, the Prince has plans for Stars marrying, just as humans do. And when he met milady, because of their shared love for music, particularly the harp, and many other commonalities, he brought it on himself to ask for the Prince’s blessing.”
Shock shot through me. Alora hadn’t mentioned that the reason Orpheus wanted Starry Knight was because he had been in love with her. Maybe that was the real reason he’d been upset, I mused. He had failed to forget about her. “Let me guess. The Prince said no?”
“Aye, you’ve the right of it. Orpheus was surprised, to say the least, at the Prince’s response. And his confusion, rather than trust the Prince, left his heart open to temptation.”
“So he rebelled and got the rest of the Starry Virtues to turn with him, in hopes of getting Starry Knight—I mean, Lady Justice—to fall as well, in revenge?”
“I suspect that is the case.” St. Brendan nodded. “He was a fool to do so. He should have known better than anyone how dedicated milady was.”
I thought of Starry Knight’s focus, the quiet, steady relentlessness about her fighting style, and the heights of her ambition. “That’s true. But she ended up falling, too.”
“Milady had her own weakness,” St. Brendan agreed. “She held her sisters, after they turned, in the bright prison of her own star, rather than let them fall to Earth or burn in Time’s end. I suspect it was love that caused her downfall.”
“Love?” I asked. “How can love be a downfall?”
“Easily enough, when it is misplaced or manipulated.”
It took me a moment to agree with him, and a moment more to ask the question I’d asked Alora and Aleia. “What was I doing?” I asked. If I had been in love with Starry Knight as well, maybe that meant something. “How did I know Starry Knight?”
“When some of the Stars rebelled, you joined them. Orpheus was a friend of yours, too, believe it or not as you will. He no doubt poisoned your mind.”
I grimaced at the thought. “Maybe he tricked me,” I said, “like Elysian’s brother did to him.”
“It would not be above the Second Light, unfortunately,” St. Brendan agreed. “I do not know the details of the event, but you wanted to come back to the Prince’s side before too long.”
“I wanted to come back?”
“Yes. So, the Prince, being the Prince, offered you mercy. Lady Justice objected, I believe, but the Prince had worked out the terms to where you would be punished, but you would also be forgiven.”
So Starry Knight hadn’t liked me. Not even really back before we’d fallen. I could see her now, getting along with me, all the while thinking I deserved to be punished more severely. Just like Elysian did.
That would be like her, I thought. “Oh. Why can’t he just have forgiven me? It doesn’t seem that hard, especially since he is the Prince.”
“You’ve been up here a while now. You can tell this is a different world from your own; and the worlds after this, even more. You cannot come back to perfection with imperfection; they resist each other like oil and water. It is a matter of justice then, and rebirth, recreation. So the Prince provided a way for justice, and then gave you mercy. Then, you were reborn, the first Star to be reborn.” St. Brendan looked over at him. “Inside of you, in your own Soulfire, you have been given what the Reborn call the Blood Flame. It burns within you, along with your own fire.
“I don’t think it’s any coincidence you were the Star of Fire before Mercy. Fire cleanses, and fire gives life and light even as it destroys; and blood—blood covers up the sin and scars of a broken being.”
“That’s weird.” I said it without thinking, and almost regretted it, before St. Brendan laughed.
“Aye, it is ‘weird,’” he agreed. “But we take for granted the ideas we have are somehow ‘normal.’” He nodded in the direction of another small, nearby sun. “Speaking of normal, how do you feel about another run? It’s not every day you get to surf on the waves of sunlight.”
I grinned. “Sounds good to me.”
*☼*
Several more rounds of nebula surfing later, I felt strangely different. I loved chatting with St. Brendan; he was a well of information. Not just on my past, but on the stories of Time and the various legends and myths I thought only belonged to Earth.
His perception on the situation I had to deal with was different from what Alora saw, even from Aleia. He knew the Stars, not just knew of them. It made a world of difference to me, to understand them and their actions.
There was something to knowing, I thought. Understanding the Celestial Kingdom, and the Stars and other souls who lived around it solidified my supernatural identity, much like St. Brendan’s board gave me the power to surf on waves of energy and light. With everything I learned, and with all that was impressed upon me, I felt belief and certainty strengthen into the core of my identity.
☼17☼
Return
It seemed all too soon before Time’s palace in the sky winked at me as the Meallán, after smoothly sailing through the stars, dropped us off at the large tree.
“It looks like it is time for me to leave,” St. Brendan said. His eyes were on a horizon of his choice, as though he was not just looking at the scene before him, but reading it like a book.
“Why?” I asked.
He chuckled. “Even the Celestial Kingdom has tides.”
I held out my hand, and when he grasped it I felt friendship and brotherhood come alive. “Thank you for everything.”
“I’ll look forward to seeing you again,” St. Brendan agreed. He turned to Aleia. “You’re sure you’ve a way back?”
She smiled. “Yes, we’ll be okay. We’re going the way of the Rabbit Hole.”
I watched as his lips pursed together at the name. “Have care, then,” he said, “for some of the unliving are around there.”
“The unliving?” I asked. “What’s that? Zombie stars?”
“Come on,” Elysian muttered. “Even I know zombies are the undead, not the unliving.”
“It’s just confusing,” I huffed back.
Aleia ignored me and Elysian. “You know that’s always a risk, St. Brendan,” she said. “We need not fear them.”
He nodded. “Aye, my lady. But take the warning just as well, for my sake.” St. Brendan turned and headed back up his ship. “All right! We’re pulling out!” he called up to his crew. The wings of his sails broadened as the anchor rolled up, and I could see the other crew members shuffling around as the Meallán once more headed out onto the celestial sea.
“St. Brendan!” Aleia called out. “Thanks for the ride.”
“You know well it’s no trouble for you, my lady,” he called back, tipping his head to her. “I’ll look for you when yo
u have need of me again. Farewell!”
And then the ship darted across the night, like a flash of lightning.
“I liked him,” I said.
“St. Brendan is a favorite around these parts. He passes through every so often, and we are always glad to see him,” Aleia replied. “He has been a good ally, too, in keeping tabs on things for Alora.”
“So, how are we getting home?” I asked.
“The Rabbit Hole,” Aleia said. At my expression, she laughed. “I wasn’t making a joke earlier.”
“What’s the Rabbit Hole?” I asked.
“It’s my old home,” Aleia said. “It’s not too far; it’s located in the middle of this place.” She glanced around at the wide expanse of the tree, the enormous branches providing a unique umbrella-like protection. “If you follow the river, it flows right into the heart of my home. Elysian should be able to take us.”
“At your service,” Elysian muttered. He knelt down for us, and we climbed on.
“So, did you enjoy yourself?” Aleia asked me, as Elysian headed around the willowing branches of the space tree.
“Yeah, I guess so.” I shrugged. “Surfing was great. Alora’s time pool was pretty interesting.”
“It’s more of a symbolic thing,” Aleia assured me. “It’s a way for you to experience the things words don’t always explain.”
“I would have preferred the words,” I decided.
“You might enjoy my time pool better,” Aleia said with a laugh.
“Is that near the Rabbit Hole?” I asked, partway in jest.
“Yes.”
I should have known surprises were pretty common, given the time I spent with Aleia. But I soon learned even suspecting surprises was not enough. As Elysian flew, in his silent moping state, we passed around the spherical tree, viewing the surrounding galaxies and light-years of the universe’s grandest displays. Any of them could have been worthy of being Aleia’s old home.
The purity of the white water flowed down into the heart of the grand tree, setting in a pool of water that ran red. The Rabbit Hole turned out to be a small island in the middle of a blood-rippled river, where he finally stopped.