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When the sky is clear of any pesky clouds and the stars shine bright, Milori thinks of her. It’s not something he indulges in during the day, afraid the sun rays will somehow pierce his soul and expose his heart to all of Pixie Hollow. No, he only allows himself to reminisce in the soft cover of the night, with the promise of secrecy all but guaranteed.
It’s become a routine, to think of her hair, honey coloured and long and softer than the flowers she used to put in it. Of her delicate features, that surely must be marked with the passage of time by now. He thinks of the subtle smile lines that grace his face, and hopes Clarion’s own are more defined. He thinks of her glow, so bright she could light up the whole night like a star. And of course, he thinks of her eyes, big and the loveliest shade of sea blue—no, that’s not correct. Are they more similar to the colour of the sky? Or to the colour of the forget-me-nots Clarion once gifted him? He can’t tell anymore.
It is then he remembers a tale from the Mainland the Keeper once told him about a human boy. A certain Icarus, with wings made out of wax, who met his demise by flying too close to the sun. When he first heard the story Milori felt sympathy for him, feeling sad the boy could not tell how something so beautiful could be so deadly. But now, thinking of the parallels to his own existence, all that fills him is envy.
Yes, Icarus might have fallen, but at least he died in absolute bliss, with the image of the sun forever etched in his mind as he met his fate. Unlike Milori—who experienced the wonders of light and love first hand. Who had held what felt like pure warmth in his arms. Who had been adored by the sun herself. Whose radiance made him fall too, only for her love to save him. Who was now doomed to live a life of solitude, craving desperately to hold that light again. Whose only source of comfort when the nights get cold are memories that become increasingly blurrier the more time passes.
Was it better to die by the hand of what you love most or to live until you forget what made you love them in the first place?
Milori doesn’t know, and as the first tear falls down his face, he realises it doesn’t quite matter.