Star Coral Cookie straightened and wiped sweat from her brow as she surveyed her work. The young light-keeper had made her way to the lighthouse at Grams' request, doing a routine check typical of the role she would fill as she got older.
Grams had seemed slightly anxious for her to get going, so she had departed with nothing more than a few sandwiches and her lantern to guide her.
She took one such sandwich from her waterproof utility belt -- a wonderous item she had found when visiting the mainland -- and took a bite off one of the corners. The lighthouse was operational, the moonstone within it shining as bright as ever.
Idly, the sailor wondered how Mistress Moon was doing.
Maybe it was a bit silly, but Star Coral liked to think that Moonlight Cookie watched over her every night when she rose into the sky. She probably had far more important things to do, what with being a guardian of nature and all, but it was a nice thought.
Finishing the last of her half sandwich, she rewrapped the other half and tucked it back into the utility belt. Her fingers brushed against the dented copper of the coral lantern hanging from her belt.
The young light-keeper huffed fondly as she unhooked it and cradled the soft glow in her hands. The lantern had been a gift from Grams -- something her parents had left her, before they had faded into stardust and sea foam.
The light of the soul coral is especially important, Moonbeam. The more hope and positivity that surrounds it, the brighter it will glow. Keep that hope within you. It keeps the glow alive.
Without hope, cookies tend to crumble.
She pressed her forehead to the glass of the lantern with a small sigh. Love and hope were some of the strongest forces in the world. She had seen it, on her journey to restore the lighthouse's glow. She had heard tales of it, from Grams.
"Well," Star Coral mumbled to herself, "Upkeep's done. I guess... I should go back home."
The small tugboat she had used to ferry herself to the lighthouse's island bobbed gently in the waves as she untied it from the dock. With a slight shove, the sailor's boat began the journey back to her home.
A slight chill whistled through the early morning air. She breathed deep, ocean breeze moving through her locs. The sight and smell of the ocean had always calmed her. Something about the gentle rocking of the boat and the sound of the waves, paired with an endless horizon...
It felt like anything was possible.
The house was quiet when she entered through the backdoor, careful not to disturb any of the guests that might've decided to stay for the night.
The quiet in and of itself wasn't unusual. But...
Grams hadn't been sitting outside in her usual rocking chair, watching the sunrise. Star Coral had expected to greet the older cookie when she crested the rocky basalt stairs leading from the dock to their house. When she didn't...
Her lantern flickered slightly. With a huff, the young sailor shucked off her raincoat and boots, leaving her in nothing but her turtleneck and a pair of tattered black jeans.
"Grams?" called the coral cookie, "I'm back from the lighthouse..! The moonlight is still strong, so I won't need to go to the Giant's Great Ocean anytime soon.
Up the stairs she went, old wooden stairs creaking where she stepped. Grams' door was slightly ajar. She rolled her eyes with fondness and a hint of exasperation. It was an invitation, clearly. Her grandma must've fallen asleep waiting up for her.
Though, it's late enough in the morning that she would be awake by now. Did she not hear me calling her name?
"Grams..?" she knocked on the weathered driftwood that Grams had insisted her door be made out of. Still no response. Star Coral pushed it open just enough to peek inside.
Save for a slip of paper on the bed.
Something in Star Coral's chest caught. The lantern in her hands stuttered again. With bated breath, the young cookie crossed the threshold of the door and gingerly sat on the bed.
The paper was worn between her fingers, folded and creased by familiar wrinkled hands. Familiar handwriting adorned the page, a warning of danger to Mistress Moon and a plan to stop the ones responsible.
"I love you, Moonbeam," she whispered the final words of it aloud, shattering the oppressive quiet that was threatening to suffocate her.
Grams is in danger, was Star Coral's first thought, quickly followed by, And she didn't want me to get hurt. That's why she sent me to check the lighthouse.
Grams was in danger, and the most she had was the name of an organization and Mistress Moon. Grams was captured, kidnapped, and all she had in terms of power was love and hope.
Hastily, the young sailor swiped at her eyes. Love and hope are the most powerful forces in the Universe. I crossed the Giant's Great Ocean. I met Mistress Moon with nothing but an old tugboat and a lantern.
Compared to that, this was nothing. She had supplies. She had connections. She had the power of the moon and the sea in equal measure. She had love. She had hope.
The soul coral's glow shined steadily.
I'll find you, Grams. And I'll bring you home.
