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It had been a week, maybe even two or three since… Well, she didn’t want to say it, let alone think it. Days had been blurring together and her head was spinning. If she’d just acted a little differently, if she hadn’t hesitated, if she’d gone along with what Star had said, could things have had a different outcome? Tara’s heart jumps into her throat as she hears the creak of a metal sign hanging under the archway, though not entirely from fear. Sure, cemeteries were creepy, especially at night, that was a given. But a part of her almost hoped it was Star sneaking up on her, as she always used to. She cracked a smile at the memory. At first Star’d managed to scare her but over time, Tara realized she was really obvious about it, stepping on leaves and even snapping twigs. Sometimes she even pretended, just to see her triumphant smile, a smile she’d give anything to see again. Her own faded and she held the edges of Star’s jacket close, the autumn chill never feeling colder, as she made her way into the tangle of trees that is Starcatch forest.
As per Nebularian tradition, every time someone ‘joined the light that dots the starry sky’ or as any sane person would put it, died, their ashes were scattered over soil and in that spot a constellatree would be planted. It was meant to symbolize that life can come even from death, that we’re never truly gone, one of the few traditions that actually made sense to her.
Unfortunately, this posed a bit of a problem, as the trees made a sort of maze, the graves being more-or-less only meant for ‘close family and friends’ which she apparently wasn’t, despite having known Star better than anyone else. No, she wasn’t a friend, she was a “parasite” because those definitely worry when you’re sad, those definitely spend their time cracking jokes with you. But maybe she was, had she ever done anything other than hurt her? It was because of her that Star barely had any other friends …right? And now, maybe because of her…she’s… She sighed deeply, catching herself almost wishing she’d never met Star. She couldn’t even finish the thought, selfish as she was. It wasn’t her fault though. They… That’s the whole reason she was… Her head spun once more, trying to put everything she was feeling at the moment into words. She barely recognized herself anymore, not that it ever mattered, maybe to Star it did but…
She looked around for some sort of clue and spotted a path marked with white ribbons, weaving and winding through the boughs and wrapped around the trunks of the trees. A hero’s send off, it fit her. Following them, she made her way across the pavement cracked by roots. The entire place had this eerie yet hopeful feeling to it; Nostalgic longing doused by heavy hearts, with the wind seemingly whispering the regrets of both the remembered and forgotten. Here the leaves moved against the wind, clinging to the trees, resisting their own fall, unable to let go themselves. It felt like a childhood park that existed nowhere but in your memory. She could almost see Star climbing the trees and hanging upside-down from the branches. Once, she almost fell headfirst, got up and brushed herself off like nothing ever happened. How could someone like that be…
She came upon a sort of clearing where the ribbons ended, tied on the neighboring trees in brilliant bows in all sorts of styles, weaved back and forth between them, creating a kind of canopy, the rustle and quick successive crunching of leaves sounding in the distance. Wait… what? She wasn’t alone but whoever was there must’ve left on hearing her approach. Strange. She’d picked this time because she was certain no one would be around. What business did they have here? And why did they want to avoid being seen?? Well, It didn’t really matter since they’d already left…
She turned back to the trees attempting to find the stone marker, taking them in. Silvery-leaved constellatrees, named the way they are because of the branches connecting flowers that resembled nebulae, with star-like anthers and its small, glowing, hanging ‘fruit’ that also resembled stars. The bark itself was inky and dotted with glowing spots and when the ‘fruits’ matured they’d bloom into ‘nebulae’ once more, dropping star-shaped seeds or ‘shooting stars’. They shed their leaves every autumn, leaving only the ‘stars’ behind as its only constant till spring when they sprout anew, symbolizing rebirth…or wait…was that the flowers? Maybe both?? She hadn’t read about them in a while.
There were two large ones, with several white ribbons tied to them, a ribbon from each tied to a much smaller, freshly planted tree. Shaky breaths, she read the name on the stone marker: Star Luminary. Star was dead. There was no avoiding it anymore. She was gone and she’d never see her again, and that thought hurt more than she thought it would, having last seen her over a year or two ago. No one, let alone her, would ever hear her voice, hug her or even see her smile ever again. She’d be forever associated with the smell of crayons and clay, never growing older than thirteen, doomed to survive only in memories that were already fading, tainted with sorrow and regret. Her laugh would never ring quite the same in recordings. A million photos of videos would never truly capture that feeling of being there with her. She. Was. Gone. Even so, she couldn’t really accept it, because what do you mean Star isn’t alive? What do you mean she isn’t here because she’s dead and not because she just had to go be a stupid, stupid Star Guardian against everything she’d ever wanted?? Tara read the name over and over again as it began to blur, as if it’d somehow change, as if she’d wake up from the horrible nightmare that is reality. But she didn’t and she had to turn away to stop that familiar growing sting in her eyes.
Sniffing hard, she turned her attention to the marker’s surroundings and found herself almost scoffing. It had only been less than a month and the place already seemed to have been forgotten. Leaves and shriveled petals carelessly strewn aside to seemingly make the marker presentable and the stubs of hundreds of burnt-out candles simply left there. Some ribbons had their ends frayed and there was a pile of paper junk on one side. A hero’s send off, her foot. To most, it was just another name in the dirt. She took some time to clear the mess as best she could, taking notice of something scratched in under the rather soulless epitaph that simply said ‘loving daughter and friend’. The lettering wasn’t even and was likely done quickly, the dust from the deed still fresh, it read: ‘Star of the show’. A pun, and a very fitting one at that. The people that were there earlier probably scratched it in, and despite her distaste for anything to do with wishes and fate, she found herself muttering a silent one for their wellbeing.
She took a seat next to the marker, picking up a small spider crawling on it with a leaf and tossing it aside as gently as she could, mumbling a tiny apology to her bug-enthusiast friend. Pulling a small vial of that cursed sparkly stuff or ‘glitter’ out of her pocket, she delicately placed it in front of the marker. A small, silly gift that only really held meaning in this context.
“Happy alignment, Star,” She exhaled, feeling a bit foolish, though she wasn’t ready to let it go just yet. Besides, even if a person was no longer around, it didn’t make their existence any less special or important.
As she turned to leave, she took note of the other things around the marker, four different flowering plants, four letters and two small wrapped gifts, red and blue. For a moment she wondered if she was wrong about the other two Star Guardians. After all, who else could those be from? But the evidence was overwhelming and people were great at faking concern. Besides, even if they did care… She stopped herself, avoiding another thought spiral. She always hesitated when it came to everything she ever did. She needed to stop and face the facts for once. Star was dead and she was sure they killed her. They had to have, they were the only ones there that day. This was fact, the truth.
…right?
˚₊‧꒰ა ✦ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Constellatrees, native and exclusive to Nebular, often used to honor the dead. It is said that when planted over the ashes of a departed soul, the branches trace over every connection a person has made in their lives, be it with friends and family, with someone they simply crossed paths with, or even a place, growing further and further until eventually entwining with each other and merging with the starry sky. Others argue that the branching represents every major decision, the tree itself representative of every life that person may have lived and every end they may have met. One thing that everyone seemed to agree on, however, is that the tree itself has strong connections to fate, the bridge and barrier between life and death. But could fate really be so beautiful, cruel as it is? Perhaps the branching is representative of the cage that it is, growing ever higher, respite from it out of reach, stabbing into us when we least expect it.
…That wasn’t a very comfortable thought, though none of her thoughts as of late were very ‘comfortable’ regardless.
“Hey! Stop looking at the trees, c’mon!!” Cosmo yanked on Celesta’s arm, they were short on time as is, being out here against the rules after all. As much as he too wanted to stop and stare and maybe have a mental breakdown for the third time that week, they had something important to do.
“Sorry…” She mumbled, stumbling after nearly tripping over a root. It was easy to forget reality existed and that time passed, now more so than ever.
They made their way around the bend, following white ribbons to the ‘fallen heroes’ portion of the cemetery; decorated, spacious and utterly hopeless. It might’ve been inspiring if those that lay here actually had a say in the matter. Generations of ‘heroes’, Star Guardians have ended up here, many of whom have had their lives cut short. No, to a Star Guardian, death, especially an early one, was no stranger. That didn’t exactly make it any easier though, at least to those whose lives had been forcefully consumed by it. Would they share a similar fate? Would it even matter against all that there was, is and will be?? The two didn’t exactly care for an answer, both wishing that it was their fate instead of hers. But fate can’t be changed, and the outcome would ultimately remain the same, whosoever’s fate it may be.
Trees towered over them in every direction, boughs twisting around each other and roots spreading over the ground like a network, the constellatrees reaching even higher to the heavens above… all except for one, freshly planted and only beginning to grow, the stone marker in front bearing the name ‘Star Luminary’. They’d only caught a small glimpse of it on the day she fell, thrown almost immediately back into their relentless routine, barely able to acknowledge what had happened. For the first time, it dawned on them that Star was gone and that they’d never see or hear from her again. The little ember of hope that she’d somehow survived beginning to die too.
“The place is a mess,” Celesta broke the silence, the words escaping before she even realized she was speaking. She wasn’t wrong though; paper junk was strewn all over the place and no one seemed to care enough to sweep away the leaves and shriveled petals that nearly buried the marker. The stubs of candles formed waxy clumps, carelessly left to burn out without any worry for a forest fire.
Cosmo scoffed, “Not surprised. They treated the funeral like it was some sort of party…” He pulled out a pocket knife and knelt down in front of the marker, carefully scratching in quotation marks.
Celesta pulled out some of the candle stubs with a grunt, melting the edges with the red glow of her magic. “Do you think it's really okay to do this?”
“I mean… if her parents said yes then why not? Besides, we can’t leave the epitaph like that. ‘Loving daughter and friend’? Star’d…” He let out a sigh. Maybe being so busy wasn’t all that bad. Now that he was somewhat idle, he couldn't stop thinking of how much he missed even her messy, unfocused, glittery presence. He almost felt like crying all over again.
“That's… Not what I meant, someone’s going to see it eventually… right?” To be completely honest, she didn’t really care if they got in trouble for it, but for the first time in a while she really couldn’t handle the silence. Every conscious moment not spent directing her thoughts elsewhere was agonizing. She couldn’t even miss Star properly, stuck replaying every memory, wondering if she could’ve done differently to prevent it.
“Doubt it, you saw the state of this place. ‘Sides nothing wrong with it,” He dusted off the letters, going in a second time, hoping she didn’t notice his voice cracking. He never did understand how she managed to keep her cool. Any time she was stressed it wasn’t even expressed outwardly, but through her fidgeting.
He wondered if she actually cared sometimes.
“Of course, just a thought,” She’d sorted all the paper junk from the leaves, putting them in a pile to the side for the time being. She noticed his voice breaking and she almost envied him for being able to take the emotion as it came, not worrying about its validity or any consequences that may arise from expressing it. Meanwhile, she couldn’t even be sure that she’s actually feeling what she thinks she’s feeling. She missed Star, or at least she thought she did. It could very well have been guilt from never talking to her as much as she could’ve. She did want to see her again which would count as missing her but she could just be thinking that because she was thinking about whether she missed her or not… Why was she such a mess?
Cosmo dusted off his jeans and got up to look at his work from a distance, finally satisfied, some justice done to the friend he only wished he knew longer. He still couldn’t believe the way the whole thing had been handled. He placed a small blue wrapped gift near the marker, “What do you think?”
“Perfect,” ‘Star of the show’ They’d decided on it earlier but actually seeing it just felt right. She too placed a small red wrapped gift next to the marker and had just begun to move the leaves and petals out of the way when they both heard footsteps and the crunching of leaves, “...ah.”
“C’mon!” He grabbed her arm, heading towards the bushes so they wouldn’t get caught, completely forgetting that silence is kind of a vital aspect to sneaking around.
The two walked away briskly, accompanied by the whistle of the wind and the empty hopelessness that hung in the air. Their minds were racing with a million thoughts that were drowned out by a roaring silence, struck with an inability to voice even one. After all, it hardly mattered anymore now that Star was gone, now that there was no longer anyone to break the freshly-formed ice. Was it even worth knowing each other, their light so easily snuffed?
Only the stars knew, and the stars were cruel.