Chapter Text
It’s always been her. Or so you’re told.
One used to be two.
Two used to be balanced.
And they loved each other dearly.
Or so we’ve been told.
In the vast reaches of space and time, each Earth has been shaped differently. A single flap of a butterfly’s wing could shape mountains; a drop of blood parted rivers. The constellations above weaved their timelines carefully, only touching their works directly when in dire need.
There was, however, one place that remained untouched in every strand.
Atop a peak of rich evergreen lay a small clearing, where birds exchanged centuries worth of song, and silver wolves roamed the land they called their world. No sliver of bark had ever met with hungry steel, no wildflower ever swayed with a human hand. Crickets cheered and hopped without a thought of fear, and notes of petrichor emerged after heavy rains. The creatures there were filled with love for the earth, and the earth sang back its love for them.
And most of all, they breathed with love for the very beings that kept them alive.
In a ring of trees, where only blades of grass and moss thrived, sat what appeared to be a young woman. Her face was soft yet stern, with a delicate curved nose and eyes that reflected ages of crimson-inked memories. Chestnut hair framed her cheekbones and cascaded down to her waist, nearly touching the soft earth. Boldly outlining her figure was a sleek red dress of silk that left her shoulders bare and displayed a sense of elegance, for none to see. Though obscured in the thicket of old, she was as quick-witted and beautiful as the soon-to-be night sky.
But she was only half of perfection. Sure enough, a shorter, silvery-haired person appeared from behind a tree in a quiet spark of light. She had a smaller, sharper nose, with soft gleaming eyes and cupid’s-bow lips, and bright earrings in the shape of a four-pointed star that reached down to her shoulders. Her clothing was simpler than her other half, with a pearly-white dress flowing down to her ankles and translucent sleeves barely covering her elbows. To any scholar or artist, she could be described as an angel from above.
“How lovely it is to see you again Lux, and after such a long day of work.” The person in white, Nox, remarked. With a gentle smile, she ambled towards the center of the clearing and sat facing Lux. Her voice was light and airy, speaking only with tender words. “Though it has only been a few hours; is there a pressing matter you wanted to speak to me about?”
“I shall get to that in a moment, my sweet Nox. For now, would it not be best if we marveled at this eternal setting? Patterns of birdsong could be discussed, flowers to be plucked from the soil, and much more.” Lux replied. She spoke with a much richer tone, yet sharing the hints of sweetness all the same. It seemed she really loved conversing with Nox, and was rather excited this particular evening.
Nox’s eyes lit up, and she leaned forward as if to confirm. “Is that so? Well then, I wouldn’t mind spending hours, let alone days, admiring it all. Anything living is truly a spectacle!” Her thin fingers ran through blades of grass, strands of hair falling to her face as she looked down at the tiny insects flying about. She had always held a special place in her heart for life in every strand, and Lux knew it well.
“You speak as though I am a stranger,” Lux chuckled, “I should have you know that this was all chosen for you, and only you, love.”
Nox was mildly surprised by this, as Lux had never truly done something with full intention to please someone other than herself. Of course, it was considered the norm and she had never complained, but it was a little odd in her eyes for the sudden change. But in contrast, perhaps Lux was beginning to see from another’s view. With a twinge of hope in her heart, Nox simply placed her hand atop Lux’s and beamed. “I appreciate it, truly. You are never a stranger in my eyes, but a being much more worthy.”
Lux winked and took her hand. “And you are worthy of anything you could ever imagine.”
The hours that followed were spent in almost-silent admiration, as occasional whispers were exchanged and humming rang out. The sun had gone to rest, and in its stead, a soft pool of lunar light began to emerge. Soft white dots barely surrounded the moon, with only a blindingly shining star standing out. It was so close to where the sun sank, and it stood out so beautifully, that Nox couldn’t help but point it out.
“Look there, Lux! I wonder if that’s our dear star – it does look quite familiar…” Nox stood and raised a hand to point. She was almost certain that it was the star she knew so well, but it didn’t hurt to ignite a conversation over trivial matters.
Lux, on the other hand, was already standing. But her gaze was directed towards the light of the full moon. It flickered slightly as she stared, her own focus so abstract it almost appeared as though she was dreaming. Then she blinked, slowly, and turned her head to face her dearest once again.
“Nox?”
There was a moment of silence, in which the chilly autumn breeze swept Nox’s hair to the side. She had never seen Lux so dreamy-eyed, let alone so quiet. It almost planted fear into her mind, fear to speak and disrupt such an enchanting moment. Yet she found it in herself to draw air, and gather words for a curious reply.
“...Yes, Lux?”
“Do you love me?”
She was left speechless once again. In what way? There was a love shared between the entire Constellation, something they were all created with. It was a bond of respect and trust. And then there was a love of Lux, that only Nox had ever truly felt. She never sensed it in the network of stars they were rooted in. She had always kept it a secret, sworn to never let anyone see for as long as it lived. Did Lux discover it? Her heart skipped a beat at the slight possibility.
“Of course I do. We all love you!”
“Are you sure?” Lux leaned forward, her breath escaping as clouds in the brisk air. She whispered as though it were a secret no creature could hear.
“Why…why wouldn’t I be? It’s no secret I cherish you and the others deeply!” The persistence of her question was beginning to worry Nox, and she could feel it in her own stutters.
Lux pursed her lips, fighting back a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. It was unclear whether she was pleased or frustrated by the answers given. “Say I was…a wolf in sheep’s clothing. A monster, one might say. Would that love of yours stay true?”
Nox’s lips parted before a single word could leave her tongue. It almost hurt her to hear her beloved call herself such cruel words. Where in the threads did she learn to call herself such a thing? “A m- You’re no monster!”
“Is that so?” She purred, her face inches from Nox’s. Her glittering eyes looked down at her with a curious, almost hungry stare. She so desperately wanted to hear the words spin like melodies, and it couldn’t be clearer by the large shadow she casted over her.
“Yes.” In the spur of the moment, Nox shed all fear and softened her expression. She must need this, more than my need to protect myself from mere shame. Her voice dropped to a whisper, and their eyes met. “Lux, I really do love you. Honest.”
But Lux was only partially satisfied. Sure enough, she reached to caress Nox’s rosy cheeks, pushing aside a few locks of white hair in the process. Her voice dropped to a low whisper, taking slow breaths to ask, “And you’ll love me, no matter what I do?”
They had sat so close to a tree hours earlier, that she now had Nox almost pinned. And, strangest of all, the woods had gone dead silent. It was almost as if they knew something their caretaker could never imagine.
“...Without a doubt. My love for you shines through as the comets and their endless journey.” Nox could feel her own breath hitch, her entire body flooded with warmth from the rising tension.
“Well, then…” Lux trailed off and fell silent. Then, in a flash, she closed the distance between them, her soft lips meeting Nox’s. Her arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace, fingers running through her hair in a desperate manner.
All Nox heard was the pounding of her own heart.
Though the kiss occurred for mere seconds, in her mind it lingered for minutes. She could hardly process it, barely scramble together words to parse a response. Love and shock and longing surged through her veins far before her brain could explain. By the time Lux let their lips part, she had to force herself to breathe, in order to respond.
But she was never given the chance. She couldn’t even take a full breath of air. Lux instead kissed her again, failing to let go. She acted with the same desperation that lay dormant beneath Nox’s very flesh for centuries. It gave her excitement, it gave her hope. But all the same, she felt a tinge of panic. She needed to breathe, to put her thoughts into words.
“Lux, I-”
Lux never stopped. The third kiss was more forceful, as Nox could feel her back press, then push, against the thick bark of the tall oak tree. Cold hands reached from under the skirt of her dress, pulling it off and exposing more skin to the brisk air. She only had a silky and thin slip, which offered little warmth beside her own. But she almost couldn’t feel the piercing chill anymore. With her head spinning from overwhelming passion and joy, she began to care less of her short breath and discarded clothing.
Every gasp for breath became a pursuit for more. A desire to let this moment never end. Hands reached for embrace, eyelids fluttered shut. Heavy clothes were cast aside into the night, leaving more room for glistening skin under the light of the fading moon. Nox felt as though her soul had been set free, the shell binding it split open and light burst from its husk.
Or at least, what a marionette would have instead of a soul. But we must have one if a beautiful one is capable of loving me in such a way. Perhaps The Origins has chosen to grace us with their blessings. Perhaps, from this day on, I can love and cherish and speak the way I’ve longed to for all eternity. Freely, carefully, I will live.
In the midst of pure bliss, a new, sinking, twisting feeling emerged from the depths of Nox’s consciousness – shifting, turning, into white-hot pain. Looking down, her joy quickly contorted into horror as she realized the source was a silver dagger lodged into her back. Chills rolled down her spine, and her body immediately felt weak as it attempted to process the crushing agony, now having to rely on the very hands that caused it to hold her up.
It was her.
It had always been her.
And now she will be her last sight.
Lux finally pulled away with a sickening smile growing on her face, raising her arm just to stab her again. It struck the heart this time, with perfected aim. And just like her kisses, she didn’t stop.
She didn’t stop when tears filled with betrayal ran down Nox’s pale face. She didn’t stop when blood burst and splattered in every direction. She didn’t stop when the dagger had already fallen from her hand, and her own teeth sunk into flesh. She was too far gone, by the time the shrieks of agony and snapping of bone reached her.
...
Lux’s teeth had chipped, her hair had been matted with blood and stuck to her face, her own smooth skin had been dug into with frantic clawing, but she didn’t feel it, didn’t see it. Her eyes were glazed over and her body ached for flesh still – who is this again? The sparks and wires in her brain refused to tell her. But she needed the strength, needed this husk so desperately she still cradled and chewed the bones as an animal would.
For the taste of raw strength and bone was far more valuable than the taste of old love – to her vacant eyes, at least. She didn’t even think of it as love. It was child’s play . Hatred had festered within her as equal to [the other]’s budding affection that she could finally put it to rest. And to think it only took her own touch to melt the naive thing! She laughed herself silly at that, murmured reassurance to the skull that there was no more strife for its simple mind. The blood she licked off would know no more suffering.
She was so engrossed in her newfound victory that she almost missed the horrified fallen star before her.
And the instant searing of flesh on her back, in the mark of a four-pointed star.