by J. A. Comley
There. Starla opened her eyes. Antonio's dark-grey gaze was on her face. His eyes swept over his siblings and then narrowed with suspicion.
“I have done what I can,” Starla said softly. “I trapped the curse within fingers, their three fingers of the left hands. They will lose feeling and mobility of the digits, however, I think I have diminished the intensity of the curse enough that they will not lose the fingers, themselves. And as they are right handed—”
“When will they wake?” Antonio interrupted, gruffly.
Starla looked back, sadly. Clearly her relationship with her Earth friends had been shaken to the core and had not survived the encounter. Who could blame them after all they had suffered because of her?
“I do not know,” Starla answered truthfully, a catch in her voice as Elise refused to look at her. “I will see to it that you are all comfortably looked after.”
“Hmph,” grunted Antonio, looking back down at the twins, gently stroking their white-blonde hair.
“From angel's grace shall they awaken from the sleep of death,” Pierre intoned thoughtfully, earning himself a glare from Antonio that quickly turned into a look of loss as he turned his back on his cousin, shutting him out, along with Starla and Larkel.
Elise cast one more look at Starla, then shuddered and turned her back, kneeling with her husband beside the twins.
With fresh tears stinging her eyes, Starla turned away. Larkel kissed her hair, rubbing small circles along her back.
Her eyes fell on Pierre, where he stood beside them, smiling vaguely at the sky.
“We need to help him,” she said, stilling her tears.
“I'll take a look,” Larkel said, placing his hand on one side of the man's head.
Starla drifted away, accepting thanks from tear-streaked citizens, feeling uncomfortable as each new person bowed, looking awed. She almost laughed as she realised that the way the people were looking at her mirrored the way they had always looked at Larkel, except that no hatred shone in any of their eyes.
“Starla?” Larkel called, still standing beside Pierre, who was patting a bemused dappled grey vapurix who had come up beside him. “I may need your help, but I think I can heal him.”
Together, Larkel leading, they entered Pierre's mind. Starla's presence shuddered. Everything was in chaos. It looked as if someone had taken all that Pierre had ever been and scrambled it into a non-functioning shambles. All the wealth of knowledge in his head seethed in a jumbled sea, together with his somehow immense knowledge of Galatia, Cosmaltia and Aurelia.
It is as if Kyron shoved his head full of knowledge until it broke, Starla thought, shuddering at the mess.
That is what happened. It seems, by the trace of magic that it left, that Kyron used Pierre's mind to try and understand Earth and its people. Afterwards, he broke his mind as surely as he'd broken the others' bodies, filling it with wave after wave of information.
But you can fix it? Starla asked, her presence worried.
Together, we can. Your knowledge of him will help in the reconstruction. Follow my lead.
Starla watched and followed, feeling her magic leap eagerly to obey. Outside her mind, she knew she was smiling. Her powers seemed to work so naturally.
Afterwards, they opened their eyes and stepped back, watching Pierre come back from his madness. Pierre looked wide eyed at his surroundings, his incredulous gaze lingering on the giant magmus corpses. With a yelp, he bounded back from the vapurix he had been patting.
“It's all right, Pierre,” Starla said gently.
“Starla?” Pierre said, his light-brown eyes raking her up and down in astonishment, then winking at her form-fitting dress.
He gazed around him again, letting the thoughts of what had passed since that morning in the fruit grove settle into place.
And he started laughing.
Larkel shook his head. If the situation strained the man's mind too much, it would shatter all on its own. Then no magic could set it right again. He looked at Starla, but she was smiling brightly.
“Ha! I knew there was other life out there!” Pierre rejoiced. “Would you just look at this place? Well, I'm sure it's looked better,” he trailed off as the wind blew up little eddies of ash and the scent of blood and burning choked the air. “And you,” he spun to Starla. “Princess of an alien race. I knew there was a reason I always liked you best.”
Starla chuckled as Pierre winked again.
“I think you should probably rest a little,” she smiled at him.
He glanced back at his cousins and the happiness dimmed a little.
“Yes. I will.” He gave Starla a small smile then left towards the little tents the Makhi were now erecting in what had once been the park.
“He'll be all right,” Starla told Larkel as he watched Pierre walk away, dumbfounded.
Clearly, the man remembered everything and yet his mind hadn't broken anew.
“Discovering new worlds is what he has always loved. This is beyond his wildest dreams.”
Around them, the carnage had been somewhat ordered. All of the dead now lay shrouded along the white rectangle of Makhi robes. The enemy dead were heaped in a pile at the very edge of the battlefield.
Starla sighed. Nothing seemed to be left of the once-beautiful city. The buildings were all rubble, the plants withered and burned. Even the soil looked like it was rotting, stained by blood as it was.
Following her thoughts, Larkel spun her around. Before her, now, were the survivors. More than Starla had dared to hope. All waiting in ragtag groups, all smiling, even through their tears. On a little rise stood the Guardians, all six of them, re-united once more. Starla could hear snatches of their liquid tongue as they chatted back and forth, silver tears cascading down their obsidian cheeks.
“You saved them. All of them,” Larkel murmured in her ear.
She turned and looked up, tracing the line of his strong jaw with her forefinger.
“I thought I had lost you,” he said, his eyes suddenly vulnerable with remembered pain. “So many things I have feared in my life but the thing I feared most, for a long time now, was a life without you.”
Starla found a little gem of happiness glow brightly in her tortured heart. Slowly, she pulled him closer and stood on tiptoes. The kiss, though gentle at first, quickly grew more intense as the realisation of their victory sunk in. Starla felt her blood begin to burn as her heart beat faster and Larkel pulled her against him.
Someone cleared their throat loudly behind Starla, followed by a few amused giggles which tinkled on the breeze like music.
“Are we interrupting?” Rya grinned, arching a delicate white eyebrow in amusement.
“Of course not,” Starla laughed, letting herself be embraced by the spunky Sacrileon.
“Good, because, oh powerful Soreiaphin, your work is not yet done,” Rya's playful tone was contrasted by the sudden seriousness in her violet eyes.
Starla looked from one Sacrileon to the other questioningly.
“Ezira was the link. The thing that kept our powers bound together. Through her, we could keep the balance. Without her, everything will begin to die,” Gaby finished, her voice not nearly as hopeless as Starla thought it should be with that revelation.
“I've had an idea, you see,” Beky said, a timid smile on her full lips.
“Go on,” Starla said encouragingly, a little disconcerted by the awe in Beky's eyes. Unlike the other Sacrileons, Beky had never met Starla the unsure orphan girl, only Starla the powerful Soreiaphin who had saved them all.
“Well, I think that if you can link with us, we could re-create that link, with you at the centre instead of Ezira. We could save Galatia from the death Kyron has sowed into the very soil.”
“And maybe even Cosmaltia,” Alli piped up.
“Truly? This could be possible?” gasped Zerina as she walked up to them with Niden and Kara.
“It may well be possible,” Beky said, then motioned Starla to enter the rough circle the Sac
rileons had formed. “Shall we try?”
Starla stepped forwards immediately and felt Larkel grasp her wrist, restraining her.
“This may be dangerous. You have used much of your energy, today, already. Perhaps you should rest first,” he cautioned, his indigo eyes full of worry.
Starla looked from his worried gaze to the hopeful look in Zerina's bright, amber eyes and then over the devastated Galatian landscape.
“This is too important to wait. I want to try,” she said firmly, releasing herself and stepping into the circle.
One by one, the Sacrileons each placed one hand on Starla and their other on the Sacrileon to their right, their Sacred Stones beginning to glow brightly in their silver circlets. They shut their eyes and Starla followed suit.
Starla gasped and shuddered as the Sacrileons' strange magic pressed against her mind.
It was as if her mind exploded, expanded as it hurtled into a realm of consciousness Starla had never imagined. She felt like she was connected to everything. She could feel the animals, all over Galatia, that had survived the war. She felt them respond as she concentrated on those closest to her. The wind and water were suddenly alive all around her. They breathed, they moved, she could feel their life beat.
Larkel clenched his fists as Starla gasped, shook and then went rigid within the Sacrileons' circle. Nearby, the remaining ergothan let out a mournful whine, swiftly joined by the vapurix pack, Herio leading the howl.
“This is too dangerous,” he muttered through clenched teeth, stepping purposefully towards the circle.
The Sacrileons' eyes sprang open, but they were no longer violet. Instead, each pair shone with a brilliant, white light.
“Do not interfere, High Lord,” they said as one, their musical voices blending and echoing eerily. “What has begun cannot be stopped, or she will surely die. We must have a centre, or your worlds will fall out of balance and perish.”
Reluctantly, Larkel stepped back, his jaw clenching and unclenching, his indigo gaze never leaving Starla's upturned face.
Starla turned her mind to the final three elements, Fire, Flora and Earth. Here and there, she felt an injured juvenile magmus, whimpering in pain as it tried to flee. With her own magic, she could see that the poor creatures meant no harm now that their master was dead and would no longer torture them if they failed to be cruel. Adding Rya's power to hers, they both stepped into their fiery hearts, carefully healing the damage. Beky appeared, too, easing the great magmi, stilling their fear, making them peaceful. They would take their place in Galatia's new ecosystem.
Nodding in satisfaction, Starla left the sphere of Fire and entered the final two. She felt as if she had grown to encompass the entire planet. All around her the earth groaned and shuddered as darkness poured forth from Abyss Valley like poison seeping through tissue. As she tuned into the Flora sphere, Starla cried out in pain. Burnt, dead. All the life gone, drained. She now knew what it was that Gaby must have felt when Kyron had destroyed Rainbow Wood.
Larkel jumped forward as Starla screamed in agony, his blood freezing at the sound.
“No, Larkel!” Niden grunted, seizing the High Lord. “You'll kill her!”
Larkel shook Niden off roughly, but moved no further, his eyes blazing with pain and frustration.
There is life, Gaby's voice rebounded out of the vast new expanse in Starla's mind. Look deeper.
Obeying, Starla focused more strongly on the element of Flora. There. A tiny spark. No. Millions of tiny sparks. Starla laughed. They were everywhere. Billions of them. Kyron had failed. Galatia's heart was still beating. Focusing on the little sparks of life, Starla sent her power to them, starting with those beneath her very feet, then slowly trying to push out further.
Larkel shifted uncomfortably as Starla laughed, her face lighting up with joy. A glowing light glittered around the circle now. Starla's skin seemed to be emitting a golden light.
“Look!” breathed Kara, pointing to Starla's bare feet.
There, between them, tiny sprouts of sea-green grass were beginning to poke through the light-grey soil. They budded and grew even as the astounded group watched. The circle of new life had spread just past the Sacrileons when Starla let out a long sigh and collapsed.
Larkel dashed forward as the glittering light vanished.
“She is alright,” Lua said gently as Larkel pushed passed Fey and scooped Starla into his arms.
“She is just worn out,” Fey said, her violet eyes gentle.
“It worked!” Beky and Gaby rejoiced, looking at the beautiful new growth.
Larkel gave one sharp nod then moved away from the exalting Sacrileons. He smiled as his healing abilities indicated that Starla really had suffered no harm. When he began to assess her magic, he shuddered. She was linked to the Sacrileons now, holding the worlds in balance. It would be a permanent strain on her mind for as long as she lived. Slowly, her emerald eyes fluttered open as he lent her some energy.
“It's alive,” she murmured, smiling up at him. “Galatia is alive.”
And then she fainted.
Epilogue
New Beginnings
The restoration of Galatia and Cosmaltia had been a long and, for Starla, sometimes excruciating process. She had worked herself to the brink many times, collapsing from exhaustion as she had that very first day after the war ended.
She and the Sacrileons had worked endlessly every day for the past century, slowly building up all that had been stolen.
Rainbow Wood shone once again, its golden canopy reflecting the morning light, though the trees stood a little shorter than their predecessors. Beyond it to the north, the Light Meadows glowed every evening, their ergothan population growing steadily under Beky's careful guidance. In the mountains behind, the small population of magmi lived in seclusion, keeping to themselves.
Cosmaltia was once more a kaleidoscope of colourful gardens, silver seas and stunning, glass-spun buildings. Today, the surviving Cosmaltians, as well as several Galatians and Aurelians, would be returning to their colourful planet to start a new chapter in their lives.
The Makhi, Inagium, and just about anyone else who could lend a hand had been helping rebuild houses, shops and inns. The Royal Palaces of Galatia and Cosmaltia had been built to a new standard of delicate beauty. Their glass spires shone with rainbows as the sunlight glittered through the intricate motifs.
Kyron's mark had been washed off the land and, slowly, people had been piecing their lives back together and learning to live with the scars.
The High Lord's little cottage had been expanded. It now had two extra rooms on the top floor and a large sunny room adjacent to the lounge.
“Would you like a cloak?” Larkel called down the stairs to his wife.
“Yes, please,” Starla called back, a smile in her voice. She knew better than to say no. Larkel would bring one, anyway, insisting that the eastern wind was too cold.
Her link with the Guardian's was an ever present pressure in her mind, but worse was the knowledge that this tenuous balance was finite. One day, many thousands of years from now, she would die. Who would there be to take over the bond? She shook her head to clear the dark thoughts. Those were for another time.
Starla looked around her home, glad to finally be able to enjoy it after so many years of exhausting magical strain. Catching a glimpse of her face in the hall mirror, Starla gave herself a lopsided smile. She still looked exactly as she had a century ago. Her hair glittered red-gold, her skin was smooth and silky, yet in her mind, she half-expected to see a mass of grey hairs and wrinkles. She shook her head. Her human upbringing made every passing year a wonder.
Her eyes fell to a little memorial glass case as she turned away. There, in a little alcove to the left of the lounge, stood a simple, dark wood stand, made from the black trees of Aurelia's Blue Mountains. On it, a small wooden box sat, cradled on a blanket of pearly white, with golden stars and red birds threaded throughout. Starla's fingertips slid over her mother's old s
hawl, then came to rest against the little box. She smiled at the box that had once held her baby bracelet and burnt picture from her mother. It held none of those things now. She opened the lid with the same heavy feeling in her chest that she had had the first time.
Inside sat two little objects. One was a small, silver crucifix. Father Joe's. The other was an Ancient Roman brass brooch Raoul and Starla had found together near the river back in France as children. He had always carried it as a lucky charm. Starla felt the tears sting her eyes and again wondered just how long it would take before their loss hurt less.
Her thoughts turned back to a month after the war had been won.
***
“Princess Starla,” Antonio had greeted her stiffly, formally, “High Lord Larkel.”
“Are we to return home?” Davan asked hopefully, Orla nodding eagerly.
“Yes,” Larkel said shortly, knowing how hard their coldness was for Starla to bare.
“Good,” Antonio nodded. “Let's go then,” he said, pushing past Starla and out of the tent.
The twins each stopped in front of Starla. As one, they threw their arms around her waist. “Thank you. For saving our lives,” they said together. Then they were gone.
Elise looked up at Starla, meeting her eyes briefly, then shifting uncomfortably.
“I'll be outside,” Larkel said, assessing Elise's mood.
Starla waited for her old friend to speak. She had come to see them daily, after the war, but was always turned away. Only Pierre seemed to treat her the same. He always came out of the huge tent, smiling regretfully, to say that the others were resting.
“Starla,” Elise began looking up again, “I can't … I mean—”