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Ilmeria feels that she is a fading star.
She doesn’t even have to compare herself to Firis to feel that way.
But when she does think about Firis, she emphasizes how they are absolute contrasts. There was nothing that they had had in common.
Firis had just started. She took up alchemy as a way to get out of her boring and monotonous life in Ertona. And yet, it is as if she had taken up alchemy from the beginning.
And yet it feels as if Firis was, dare she say it, a natural at alchemy. Born with the talent that she had worked all her life for, a talent that she had always wished for.
What Ilmeria got through determination and tears, Firis got with just the snap of a finger.
What Ilmeria pursued for years of her life, in an attempt to fulfil expectations, Firis pursued in just a few weeks, absent of any clear goals.
Yet Ilmeria wonders if it is hypocritical of her to hate someone so innocent, someone who harbors a love for alchemy that was as strong as hers before expectations wore it down, the love waning from exhaustion and fatigue. And she herself knows that an innate talent like what Firis had gotten is a bet, a game of cards that no one can alter. She and Firis are merely the players, and the hands of Destiny is the dealer, hiding behind their mischievous grin and knowing eyes.
-
Yet when Firis reached out to hold Ilmeria’s hand, hesitation telltale in her face as she pretends that she is watching the pasture of flowers, Ilmeria put her hand gently on the trembling fingers.
A murmur brought about to Ilmeria’s ears by a soft and sudden breeze, the gloaming night sky besprinkled with stars and soft pink petals now dancing to a waltz in midair.
“…Thank you.”
For a brief moment when all they heard was the susurration of the grasses and flowers intertwined together, Ilmeria could have sworn that she had heard their hearts beat in tandem.
-
And every time Firis confides in Ilmeria of her hopes and dreams, Ilmeria finds moments of serenity. Times where she isn’t afraid of being vulnerable, she finds herself being reassured simply by the tone of Firis' voice.
Finding comfort with Firis is effortless, and Ilmeria has learned to appreciate moments of peace with her fellow budding alchemist.
And when Ilmeria, in turn, divulges her wishes and insecurities, she feels safe.
-
When Firis put her head on Ilmeria’s shoulder, half-asleep and mumbling words she can’t quite make out, Ilmeria could feel her breathing now at a slower pace – more calm, and more at ease.
She looks at Firis, her ash brown hair strewn about, her emerald orbs embracing rest. Ilmeria had found herself smiling for no reason, and began to wonder why she had blushed upon realisation.
She wonders if this is what they mean when they say that she will know for herself what it feels like.
-
Ilmeria begins to realise that Firis is just like her, another star up in the sky, and she is right beside shining her own light.
Though they can shine on their own, Orion would be incomplete without both Betelgeuse and Rigel.
So on the day Firis admits her love, Ilmeria remembers what the sky was like that day.
Each star was in their own place, and each star had their own twinkle.
-
So every time Firis holds her hand closely, it is because Firis knows that her light augments hers.
It is because Firis knows that Ilmeria still feels like a fading star sometimes, and it is because she wants to remind Ilmeria that she is the brightest in her heart, regardless.
Ilmeria thanks her for her light every single time, without fail.