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Night had descended over Area Academy, and with it came the invitation to rest after a long day of work. Students were retiring to their dormitories, instructors were packing up their classrooms, and the caretakers of the academy were doing their final rounds across the campus. But even still, there was hardly any rest for the Dark Lord, even as Lapis’ mind began going numb from the incessant concerns of her colleague, which, she may have been more appreciative of if not for the fact that it had been hours since the scheduled end of their meeting.
“With all due respect, professor,” her colleague continued, “how can we be sure that the site will still be safe for an excursion? I will reiterate that it has only been about two decades since the star fell. What if it’s a lingering remnant of Arverna’s power? What if she is reawakened by the magical activity of our students?”
Lapis massaged the bridge of her nose.
“Must I reiterate that I have visited the remains of Arverna’s daphnae countless times to ensure all traces of her had been eradicated?” Lapis snapped, her long, streaming oat-blonde hair seeming to ebb and flow about the frames of her face, “at the end of the day, she was only a human. And her body was completely destroyed. I believe inviting the students to the site of the fallen star will be a rewarding chance for them to investigate the cause. It may even assist with our own hypotheses.”
“But, professor-!” her colleague began yet again.
With every pointless word, Lapis felt her patience being grated raw. But as the pair passed by a set of archways revealing the outdoors, for a moment the pure blue moonlight overpowered the suffocating yellow of the academy torchlight. Like falling into a freezing ocean, Lapis felt the bluish light pierce through the haze of her exhaustion with a welcoming harshness from the ambience of dim firelight.
Lapis turned her head to face the moon. She saw the stars, twinkling high above. Her gaze drifted down to roll across the grassy slopes beneath the serene moonlight. Her colleague’s droning words seemed to dissolve into a raspy chorus of the wind running through the trees, and the scattered chirps of crickets in the grass. The light of the stars seemed to approach her from the sky, clouding her vision. Swallowing her whole…
“I never would’ve taken you for a stargazer,” Lapis had said all those years ago. When her eyes sparkled with more optimistically. When her face was still supple with youth. When her hair was shorter and wilder. Before she would be fully exposed to tragedies of Deitasterra’s past, and Lapis’ future.
Lapis approached the figure of a woman sitting on the grassy hill. Her face seemed so far away, but even in the dark Lapis could make out her long, cascading streams of crimson red hair…
Lapis blinked, a soft gasp slipping through her lips. Luckily, it seemed to go unnoticed by her colleague. Lapis tore her gaze away. She shut her eyes, quickening her pace to step out of the moonlight, her colleague following closely. She shook her head ever so slightly. Tried to shake the memories from her throbbing mind.
“It’s late,” Lapis suddenly spoke up, cutting through her colleague’s ramblings, “I appreciate how dedicated you are to the safety of our students, but we both need rest. We will continue this discussion tomorrow.”
Lapis could hardly hear her colleague’s hurried thank-you’s and apologies. Even as she scampered off, Lapis remained in that corridor, her back turned to the glow of the night. She felt her fists clenching as a heavy weight seemed to pull at her heart. She pulled in a shuddering breath, before escaping the moon’s pull, back into familiar monotony. She ignored the tiny flame that continued to burn deep within her heart. Her heart which yearned for the night like a flower yearns for the sun.
Lapis had been at the academy for most of her life, first as a student, and now as a Head Professor. Every path she took through the school was well-rehearsed. Every archway, every room, every corridor was tediously familiar. And yet, she could hardly settle her heart as she moved. At every moment, her heart seemed to crane its neck. Seemed to fidget uncontrollably when she opened doors to offices and lecture halls. As though she were constantly looking for something. Constantly expecting someone to be there. Lapis saw the movement of her ethereal scarlet tresses in the flutter of wind-swept banners. Lapis felt her formidable strength in the looming, fortified walls of the academy. Lapis heard her voice, like a comforting rumble, in bass of the moving wind. And yet, she was always invisible. And Lapis could continue to pine, waiting for the day she would finally appear behind those doors. Sitting at those tables. Waiting for her between the pillars of the academy pavilion the same way Lapis had been waiting for nearly twenty years now.
She would say something like, “It’s been a while, Master,” with that misty half-smile. But Lapis felt her warmth. Lapis knew, that behind her mask of unshakeable calmness, she could feel the heat of a passionate fire burning from the depths of her violet eye. A fire that fueled a millennium of undying loyalty and longing. Lapis knew her aloofness was only a testament to the strength of her restraint, her composure, and her desire to shield Lapis from the depths of her own mind. Lapis found herself craving to hear her velvety voice. How each syllable of her words was weighted with all the strength of an ancient love that refused to burn out.
But of course, Lapis knew she could never be there. Those rooms were always empty. The seats perpetually vacant. The pillars of the pavilion hosting no one but the wind. And yet she hoped nonetheless, till the hollowness that penetrated her heart became jagged and coarse with time.
It was always at night where those thoughts became intrusive. When the quiet dark only made those memories replay louder and more vibrantly. When her suppressed sadness would trickle back into her mind, sweep her up, and threaten to drown her.
Lapis hastily shut the door of her living quarters, pressing her forehead against the smooth surface. She took in two deep breaths, before opening her eyes. Her gaze drilled into the grain of the wood. She steeled herself, as her eye found the large cork-board standing beside her desk, covered in sheets of pinned paper and scribbled notes. Even despite the efforts of herself and her team of professors, academics, and researchers, they could not understand why that star had fallen nineteen years ago.
She approached the board, her eye perusing the years and years of work displayed across the board. Of course, she would not have dedicated so much thought to this fallen star if it were not for the obvious magical presence she felt when she visited the site. It was an air of power that felt eerily similar to her own, but she did not will that star to fall. Not in her past as Deitasterra, nor in her present as Lapis. And what’s more, a foreign sigil had been uncovered at the site. It seemed to resemble a summoning sigil, but it was so intricate that it was terribly cumbersome to study. Not even Lapis could replicate it faithfully, and all of her closest attempts had failed to channel any real energy. Every time, the answer felt so near, and yet she could not grasp it. She almost felt like she was young all over again, attempting her entrance exam to get into Area Academy in the first place. When she could hardly understand her own dark power and how to harness it.
“Calla would’ve been able to figure this out…” a small voice pointed out. Lapis soon silenced it.
“She was the youngest and most gifted of the disciples,” Dmitriy had said, years ago, “about 80% of modern sigils were designed by Calla.”
Every moment that Lapis could work on this case between teaching and lesson-planning and grading and managing the academy, she had an urge to turn to her red-headed companion and ask for her thoughts. And she would’ve said the exact thing Lapis needed to hear. She would’ve known where to look. She would’ve been able to help Lapis make sense of it. She would’ve had that missing piece that Lapis lacked. Before she could stop herself, Lapis turned her head to her side. But as always, rather than her red hair, all she saw was her office window, leading back out into the night. She couldn’t understand why she still felt disappointed, even when she already knew the outcome of such foolish hope. She stepped over and reached for the curtains.
Before she closed them, her eye drifted to the Central Garden, where the guardian tree had been completely uprooted and replaced with a beautiful flowerbed. The flowers looked like mere dots of purple and white from this distance. For a moment, Lapis felt her adrenaline spike, as she spotted a shift in the darkness. Like the flutter a few strands of red. But she felt her jaw clench as she realised it was simply the movement of tree branches in the wind, leaves reddened by the coming season.
“The weather’s gotten chilly. Fall must be coming,” Calla had said in the Royal Palace Gardens before the Battle of Spring and Winter, her voice rebounding off the walls of Lapis’ skull.
Lapis remembered how annoyed she used to get whenever Calla avoided her questions. Evaded her concerns. How easily she closed herself off from Lapis’ care. How fluently she spoke in riddles to conceal her true thoughts. But now Lapis wished she had listened closer, even Calla was intentionally speaking cryptically. She wished she had asked Calla more questions. She wished she could’ve been the one Calla entrusted with the darkness of her past and the roughness of her heart. She wished she could’ve held her all those times she had been hurting in secrecy. But now there were only unanswered questions, and parts of Calla that Lapis would never get to know.
“I know there are things that you desire…” Calla’s voice continued.
That seemed to finally break Lapis out of her thoughts. She bit her lip, before she tightly drew the curtains closed.
‘I’m losing my mind…’ Lapis said to herself.
Perhaps she was due for sleep. Lapis soon threw herself into readying herself for bed. The constancy of the routine was calming. There was no room for her mind to wander. Meticulously undoing the buttons of her uniform, splashing water on her face, quickly reviewing her plans for the next day; they all busied her mind and distracted her from the buzzing thoughts.
But when Lapis blew out the golden candlelight in her room, and laid down into bed, the sliver of moonlight sneaking through the glowing silhouette of her bedroom window stained the shadows with a dark bluish hue. Her face became brighter in Lapis’ mind. The silence began encroaching upon her once again. And her thoughts grew louder. Even as sweet sleep soon began lulling her into its embrace, she could still hear echoes of fragmented memories, each clearer than the last…
A gentle breeze soon drew Lapis from the darkness of slumber. She opened her eyes, and found herself bathed in moonlight. The stars seemed so close, showering the pair with subtle starlight as Lapis laid down on the soft grass below. Her hair was shorter. She stretched, taking in greedy gulps of the cool night air, and the scent of the grassy wilderness.
“The stars are so beautiful…” Lapis breathed, “it’s a shame you can only see them at night…”
A chuckle came from her side. It stoked a fire deep within her.
“If it’s of any comfort,” Calla’s voice came, “the sun is simply too bright in the day. The stars are always there. They can never truly be gone, even if they appear invisible.”
“It’s not the same,” Lapis huffed playfully, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, the day is beautiful too, and I know the sun is also a star. But wouldn’t it be even more breathtaking if the rest of the stars could also shine this brightly in the day?”
“I think it’s all the more beautiful that the stars only appear at night,” Calla said, “it’s almost like a companion in the night. Even when it all goes dark, there is still some light to be found.”
Lapis sighed, “I already know that I’m going to miss them when I wake up tomorrow.”
“Well, whenever you miss the stars during the day,” Calla spoke softly, keeping her gaze on the sky above, “just look up, and remember they will always be there. It might just take a little longer to see them.”
Lapis turned her head to gaze at the woman sitting next to her. Even the beauty of the night sky could not compare to the alluring woman sitting next to her. Crimson tresses cascading down her back, almost maroon in the delicate moonlight, her violet eye glimmering like an amethyst.
The Calla Lapis usually saw was the strongest person she had ever known. Someone she could rely on. Someone she could look to in times of peril. At times, she was Lapis' light in an endless void of dark. But although Calla wielded her power effortlessly, and wore a mask of serene confidence, the callouses on her hands, and the harsh contours of her face made her feel somewhat distant. A small sign of the profound emotion and anguish she harboured deep within, but concealed so expertly. However, in the night, in the embrace of the dark, those things seemed to matter less. The shadows seemed to soften the sharpness of her face. It seemed to peel back a layer of her impenetrable armour. In the safety of the dark Calla felt… closer somehow. Like her eye flickered a little brighter. Her brow creased a little more earnestly. The darkness seemed to reveal her ever so slightly.
Lapis couldn’t even remember how stargazing became a ritual for them. It seemed amidst all the chaos and the noise, this was the only time the world was silent. And even the tremendous hurdles in Lapis’ mind did not seem so uncrossable. In these moments, Lapis felt both she and her troubles could simply melt away into the quiet night. She didn’t feel the need to have everything figured out. She didn’t feel the need to probe Calla about her past to understand her. She didn’t feel like she needed to be Deitasterra, and Calla didn’t need to be the Second Dark Lord. They could simply coexist in this moment of calm. And here, where the weight of the world did not feel so crushing, there seemed to be an unspoken solidarity between them.
But before Lapis could sigh contentedly, the sudden smell of smoke invaded her nostrils. Charred and oppressive. The air suddenly grew thick, and dense, and hot. Sweat began clinging to her skin. Her body ached with exhaustion and stung with pain. Lapis sucked in a strangled breath between her lips, dried with blood, as her eyes shot open. The garish daylight that confronted her burned her eyes. At her fingertips, she felt herself grasping at shattered tiles and scattered debris, the hilt of her sword loose in her right hand. But her hand soon found wetness. It wasn’t long before the stench of blood enveloped her.
Lapis groaned as she rolled over, gasping as she found herself lying next to a pool of red. But it wasn't all blood. And Lapis felt her own blood run cold as she saw strands of scarlet hair, splayed out across the fractured ground like a firework. And at the centre, lay Calla. A gaping wound in her chest. Vicious, twisted arms of pale, withering tree branches had pierced through her torso.
A maelstrom of confusion, shock, and denial swept through her mind like a raging firestorm as she desperately pulled her limp body towards Calla’s motionless form. She felt the blood draining from her face, her pupils no larger than pinpricks as she stared at the heinous split embedded in her chest. Her cracked lips were parted, but the only sound that came from them were incoherent pants and wordless babbling. A thud. Her heart strained to beat. She felt nauseous. The world spun. She trembled as she placed a shaking hand on Calla’s bloodied cheek. But as the warmth of Calla’s blood began to coat her frigid skin, all barriers of disbelief in mind crumbled, and cruel reality engulfed her. Lapis felt hot tears streaming down her face. Her wails tore through what remained of Area Academy, as she desperately cradled Calla’s head close to her chest.
Lapis gasped as she shot up in bed. The moonlight reflected off her tear-stained cheeks. Lapis squeezed her eyes shut as her chest heaved, desperate to catch her breath. As though she were being suffocated by the crushing weight on her chest. She grasped at her hair as the storm continued to roar within her mind. Indescribable waves of anguish ripped through as the grotesque image of Calla’s body plagued her mind. And through it all her voice continued to echo painfully with every thought, each word driving another sword through her heart.
“Whether you’re Lapis or Deitasterra, I cannot accept that you love me.”
“My wish is for your wish to come true.”
“Because I love you.”
Her voice… the memories… why wouldn’t they stop? Why was the universe still unsatisfied with her suffering? What more could she possibly recompense for that her mind insisted on such torture? Lapis gripped her hair so hard it hurt, the tears wetting her blankets below as each helpless cry drew itself from her. Her lungs felt as though they were on fire. Her heart felt as though it were about to burst. Her mind became hazy and foggy until her vision was fading in and out of darkness.
Lapis felt her face begin to burn as her eyes grew swollen. But for a moment, a gust of cool wind skipped over her tear-stained skin. Almost like a whisper. Lapis turned. Her curtains blew in the nightly breeze. She must’ve accidentally left her window open. Through the rippling curtains, she could just about catch glimpses of the stars in the night sky. And suddenly, her room felt claustrophobic. Those stars she could see through the gap in her curtains were not enough. The wind seemed to call her name.
Lapis immediately threw her covers off of herself, scrambling out of bed. Without thinking, she stumbled from her quarters, practically throwing the door open before hurrying through the halls of Area Academy. She found an exit and practically dove into the night. She ran, desperate to revel in the night’s chill. She found herself yet again on those grassy slopes, where she finally collapsed onto her hands and knees. Her long, streaming hair drifted over her, carried by the wind. The tears continued to rush, crystal droplets catching the silver moonlight as they hit the grass. She sobbed into the night. She wondered for a moment if the moon and all the stars could’ve realised the reason for her despair, since this was the first time she had come to these grassy hills at night since the Final Battle. And the first time she had come without Calla. But as always, the moon remained silent. The night was the sole witness to her tears.
Lapis looked up at the sky, her eyes glazed with tears. The wind again rolled over her like a wave over a sandy shore. Lapis clenched her jaw as each brush of air against her skin roused goosebumps across her body. She didn’t even realise how cold the world truly felt without Calla’s warmth. And yet, within the rushing wind, she swore she could feel flecks of passing heat. Ghosts of Calla’s touch. How she held her waist when they danced. How she touched her face with impossible tenderness. How she shielded Lapis’ body with her own in the face of danger.
The stars above seemed to melt together into streaky clusters of light behind a veil of tears. Lapis drank in the starlight with her eyes. And even then, she could only think of all the nights where she would admire the stars alone.
~~~
Summer used to be one of Lapis’ favourite times of year. She still remembered with cold fondness how she and her friends would frolic together in fields of green, or the adventures they would have in the village markets as they purchased trinkets and shared snacks. A day like this was one that Lapis would’ve pined for in her youth. She had completed the brunt of her grading, and had even managed to finish most of the seemingly endless paperwork she had to fill before the end of term.
But instead of spending this day of rest outdoors, basking in the sunlight, sharing refreshing drinks with her friends, or relaxing under the shade of a great tree, she was in her office, continuing her investigation on the fallen star. A clock in the corner of her office ticked away. The persistent certainty of each tick was oddly comforting. In a way, it felt almost safe. If she heard the ticks she was still held to the firm hand of time. And some days, she felt she needed something to keep her tethered to the world. It anchored from becoming lost in her own thoughts. If Lapis had learned anything from the past decades, it was that a silent mind was a dangerous one.
Even on a glorious day like this, sometimes a flash of red hair, or the scent of lilacs, or the sweetness of strawberry crepes would cross her mind. Which was why Lapis was strangely thankful for the seemingly never-ending work that absorbed her mind and kept her confined to her desk in the day, and even more thankful for the constant clock ticking for insulating her mind from any other rogue thoughts.
Lapis narrowed her eyes through a pair of half-moon reading spectacles as she scanned each line of the parchment. The results from testing she had requested on the soil surrounding the main crater the star had impacted. How odd, the results showed that the star had fallen shortly after the Final Battle, when Arverna was defeated. If it was a coincidence, what were the chances of such a peculiar event occurring after such a huge battle? Was the displacement and display of such great power strong enough to disrupt even the stars? It seemed unlikely. No such incident had occurred before, even after the decade-long War of Subjugation.
But with the presence of her own dark power at the site, she could not overlook the fact that it happened so soon after Arverna’s death. Was it another mechanism instilled by Deitasterra all those years ago? If so, why didn’t Lapis remember it, even after attaining her full power? And what was even the point of making a star come down after Arverna was defeated? Was it supposed to be a show of triumph? A show of respect for Arverna who, despite being a murderous traitor, was still at one point a disciple of Deitasterra’s gifted with her blood? Was it a mere consequence of Arverna being defeated and her immense power vanquished?
Lapis leaned back in her seat, sighing. She removed her reading glasses and massaged the sides of her temples. There had to be a connection, the pieces were too conspicuous and the chances too perfect. But no matter what, that critical missing piece continued to torment Lapis. The one detail that kept her blind to the true cause.
However, her eyes flew open as she felt a familiar warmth closing in on her. She looked down to see flickering lines of a sigil taking shape beneath her. The lines were bright, but hesitant and slightly crooked, as if unsure of itself. Lapis frowned. It was clearly the work of a practised amateur. She could recognise the work of a new student from anywhere.
But before she could react, the sigil was complete. Lapis felt wind whipping past as the energy of the sigil surrounded her. It felt like the energy of a summoning sigil. The room around her grew bright with light, but just before she disappeared, she squinted to make out the shape of the final sigil from under her furniture. The sigil appeared to be in the shape of… a heart? But it wasn’t long before the light grew blinding, and Lapis was transported from her office.
As the light died down, and the heat of the energy disappeared, Lapis was thrown onto a ground of stone tiles. She groaned, pulling herself up as the sunlight flooded her vision, and the warm summer air kissed her skin. She heard birds chirping, and the gentle rustle of trees. She coughed as she straightened herself, smoothing down the skirts. She looked around. She had been summoned to the academy pavilion. She noted the sigil, carved into the stone below her. The unmistakable lovey-dovey summoning sigil looked back at her.
Lapis turned around, prepared to scold a student for testing sigils on professors, but as her eye fell on the culprit, she felt her blood run cold.
“I’m so sorry, Professor Lapis!” the young girl sputtered, a flustered blush immediately blooming across her pale face, “I was just practising my summoning sigil and… I think I accidentally-!”
The student standing before her was a young girl, with glowing blue eyes. But her hair was a rich red. Scarlet like a bleeding sunset. Crimson like the reddest of roses. And it flew in the wind like a flame. Despite her current embarrassment, her eye flickered with such prismatic emotion. She exuded a sense of mirthfulness and a certain light that Lapis had seen before. Over a thousand years ago in Herimka.
“Come now, Asteria,” another of Lapis’ colleagues, the instructor for this class, appeared, ushering the young girl away, “let me explain to Professor Lapis.”
“Yes, sir…” Asteria murmured sheepishly, before scuttling off, seemingly to her group of friends.
Lapis’ mouth hung open, but no words came. She watched as the sunlight only seemed to make the vibrancy of her red hair come alive. She saw how her mood was soon lifted by her friends. Before long, she was practically dancing with them upon the summery grass. She conjured golden sparks at her fingertips, and send them shooting through the air. Her friends laughed with delight as the sparks flew around them like a stream of shooting stars. Asteria spun around, allowing the sparks to surround her, getting caught in her crimson hair and the folds of her dress. And in the midst of it all, Lapis caught her shooting looks at her, the young girl's blush only deepening as she did so. A blush of something more than just embarrassment, as if the form of the sigil did not make that abundantly clear.
“Sorry for disturbing you, Lapis,” her collegue murmured, “I assigned them a period to freely practise their special skills. Asteria’s control over her power has been progressing at unprecedented speeds. She shouldn’t have been anywhere near complicated summoning sigils but yet again she has proven me wrong…”
Lapis’ eye fell to the engraved sigil on the ground. Hastily drawn, and yet its power was undeniable. She looked back to the brilliant golden sparks flickering around the young student. Lapis then noted how her own energy felt... accompanied. Fuller. She soon sensed that this student's electric energy seemed to pulse to the very same rhythm as Lapis'. And there had only been one other individual whose energy was able to match hers with such comparable synchronicity.
“Say, what is that student’s special skill?” Lapis asked.
“Asteria’s?” her colleague replied, “I believe her special skill is controlling the power of the stars. We think it was potentially awakened by how she was found as a child.”
“What do you mean how she was found?”
“She said she was named after that star that fell all those years ago,” her colleague explained, “because she was found as a baby in the forest the same day the star hit Gaia. I’m still unsure how she came to be in the forest in the first place, but perhaps her parents were killed by the star's impact, and only she managed to survive.”
Lapis froze. She couldn’t take her eyes from the child’s hair. So red and so vibrant that it could only resemble one person. Nor could she relieve herself from the nagging part of her mind that recognised Asteria from somewhere long ago. For a moment, that terrible memory of Lapis cradling Calla’s lifeless body came to mind, but it did not completely overwhelm her like it usually did. Although it stung, she thought of Calla and her heart was warmed. She thought of how Calla looked when she was young and brimming with joy and boundless energy. How she looked when she would allow her mask to slip by the smallest fraction. Asteria's eyes seemed to flicker with the same, familiar glow.
Perhaps, the star had not fallen because of Arverna at all. Perhaps the star had fallen because Calla had died. Calla was the only one who could understand Deitasterra. She understood dark power more intimately than any human Lapis had ever known. She was the only one who could inherit and carry the title of the Second Dark Lord, and was the closest one to Deitasterra’s heart. And the Dark Lord was able to be reborn as a human child after a piece of her heart fell upon Gaia. Her heart, which had become a great constellation upon being shattered, where the resulting stars became vessels for her dark power.
Lapis glanced once again at the lovey-dovey summoning sigil. The very same sigil Lapis, the reincarnation of the Dark Lord, had used to summon Calla that fateful day all those decades ago. Could it be possible, that during the final hours of the War of Subjugation, Deitasterra would not only use her dark power to protect Calla from Arverna in the Shadow Crematorium, but would also set another spell in motion? One that would allow Calla to be reborn from the stars should she die? The same way Lapis had been born from a remaining fragment of Deitasterra’s heart?
Whether it was a plan of fate or a measure taken by Deitasterra, Lapis looked up at the day-lit sky. The bright blue sky where the stars were ever-present, but just invisible.
‘I cannot believe you have been here all this time…’ Lapis thought to herself, ‘and it just took me a little longer to find you again…’