Those Who Forged the Stars
Long, long ago, there once was a family that lived in the skies.
Such was not unusual during these times as the skies were the only refuge from the ever-churning tempests that ravaged the never-ending expanses of sea below. These were tumultuous times of chaos and confusion as the world constantly shifted and changed, unable to settle or to still. Many families sought sanctuary and found such solace amongst the skies overhead.
One of these particular families were a pair of smiths and their son.
Shortly after their union and the ceremonies had concluded, the two beseeched from the Pale Queen a favor. Both women pleaded for her to grant them the blessing of a child born of their love and of her generosity. The two waited for many days and many nights before one awoke at dawn with the Queen’s gift bestowed within her. The two smiths were to become mothers. Elated and overjoyed, they pledged their hammers and crucibles in service of the Pale Queen. On the night their child was born, a full moon shone bright overhead and bathed their home in ivory brilliance.
That very same night, the mothers and their son were escorted into the skies.
For a time, their forges and kilns were left dormant and unattended. The smiths nurtured and cared for their newborn son. Until one particular evening, late in the hour with a moonless sky, the young child expressed with crying wails that echoed throughout their home a newfound fear that had taken root in his mind. A fear of the dark, of the night. No matter what the two attempted to console their son, nothing provided him with lasting comfort.
Deprived of sleep, though determined to soothe the child’s fear, both of them devised a plan. For the first time in a long while, the kilns were reignited.
From dusk until dawn, both tirelessly stoked the flames with mighty bellows. Each burst of air breathed new life into the fires and sent smoldering embers cascading upwards. These glowing cinders spiraled higher and higher, dispersed in all directions as the winds carried them. Eventually, the once darkened skies were filled to the brim with countless twinkling specks of light.
The child slept soundly that night and for every night that followed beneath the veil of stars that kept the dark of the night at bay.
Slowly, the Knight lowered the quill and permitted the ink a few more moments to dry and adhere properly onto the sheet of parchment. The library of Belhaven had been lost, but the stories held within would endure. He was certain of that.
snowghoul
yousharknotpass
germansingergirl
dededos
janainaart
titsay
vaporwave
jacobvanloon
theartofmadeline
