Chapter Text
I thought the gloaming forest, a place of eternal night, would be frightening. As we walk through still woods, I stare at the glittering sky, wondering which star is mine.
Our court walks quietly, as if on a stroll to our midsummer night picnic. Excited, they chatter, dressed in their best, flanked by soldiers marching in pristine lines.
It is the witching hour. The night of The Falling. Mother says this is the night a star hits the earth, binding fae of royal birth in starlight and unity. Mother wears her crown today, as bright and gold as the sun. “Which star is mine?” I ask, holding her gloved hand.
“It is not only yours, Aerith but also Prince Sephiroth’s. Do you remember what I told you?” I nod, but she repeats herself anyway. Mother enjoys repeating herself.
I recall little of my father but hear his faint complaint, “Ifalna loves the sound of her own voice.”
“When a star tears in two, two royal fae are born. They are opposites destined to marry and maintain nature’s balance. The day of the Falling, the star comes to our realm, awakening your sleeping power, and a prophecy shall be told. Today, Aerith, you and Prince Sephiroth shall be bound in starlight and begin your preparations to wed.”
I roll my eyes. I have never met Prince Sephiroth, nor been told much about him, but hear his name often it echoes in my sleep. I’ve learnt to keep quiet. No one’s listening.
If I weren’t holding mother’s hand, I’d have stopped as I gasped – The Eternal Tower is aglow, glittering as if it were carved of stars and sealed in stardust. It has one huge spire, open at the top, but so tall I cannot see why.
“Queen Ifalna.” The astrologer standing atop the stair’s bows. His black robes, embroidered with silver constellations, shush on the steps. “It is an honour.”
My tutors often praise me for curtseying so prettily. Bowing, I try to make this curtsey my best. Mother never curtseys, not even to the King’s who visit Gaia.
“It has been five-hundred-and-thirty-eight years since the last falling. To stand before you and Princess Aerith on this auspicious day is an honour.” The man uses so many words. I stare up at Mother, wondering if she really is so old.
“Yes, it must be.” Raising her skirts, she ascends the stairs, stepping inside the tall glistening hall. Mouth open, I gasp at the little lights, dancing like dust motes but as brilliant as twinkling stars. “Aerith!” mother barks. On my tiptoes, I hurry after her. A princess doesn’t run, that is unbecoming.
From the doors at the other end of the hall, a procession of royals walks towards us. One is a king; he wears a crown as black as night. Several steps behind him stands a boy, he looks the same age as me, standing with his back as straight as a ramrod.
“Ifalna,” the King greets.
“Hojo,” mother replies.
King Hojo looks at the bored boy with such stern eyes. “Sephiroth, greet your future bride.”
Sephiroth steps forward. Understanding, I move too, until we stand between our families, facing each other. “Princess.” He bows quite nicely, holding his arm behind his back, keeping his neck straight.
I flaunt my graceful curtsey. “Prince Sephiroth.” I never imagined how he’d look. Until now, Prince Sephiroth has been but a name, someone I must be prepared for. But now I see his hair the colour of moonlight and eyes like dew on the moss, I can’t help but blush.
Stomach twisting, I force my hands to keep from adjusting my brown hair and turn my green eyes to my shoes – wondering if he considers me pretty enough to be his wife.
“Aerith, how do you find the prince?” asks mother.
“H-he is handsome.” I flush to my ears, cursing myself for stuttering.
Prince Sephiroth twists his neck, looking away.
Did I displease him?
“Hollander,” King Hojo’s voice startles me, “let us continue.”
Nodding, the robed man leads the way up stairs so shiny I’d think they were made of glass could I see through them. Mother and the King walk together, I walk in step with Sephiroth, glancing at him when I think he’s not looking.
“You’re staring.”
My breath catches. “I’m sorry.” I look at my feet, bound in white ankle-boots.
“My father says we shall hear a prophecy today regarding our reign.”
“Yes.”
“He says that hundreds of years ago, he and mother were told that their union would bring about the most powerful fae. Me.”
“A-are you really so powerful, sire?”
“The prophecy says so, so I must be.”
Wondering what Mother and Father were told on their day of the falling, I make a note to ask her, though I know she’s unlikely to tell me. Mother has lived a life so long she says nothing that came before matters.
I steal another glance at Prince Sephiroth. If I live as long, I should like to recall my childhood fondly.
Large doors as white as snow groan open. Stepping into a gleaming observatory, our shoes click on the mirrored flooring, reflecting the sky beyond the glass roof. It is as if we have flown off the ground and are walking among the stars.
Our courts assemble, standing opposite each other. The ladies wave their fans, the gentlemen stand with their weight on one leg, or their arms folded. The soldiers stand straight and still.
Standing before a huge telescope elevated on a dais, more robed men bow.
“Your Majesties of Gaia and Meteor,” begins Hollander, “welcome to the night of The Falling. Princess Aerith, Prince Sephiroth, step forward.”
Folding my shaking hands over my skirt, we step forward. Nervous, my knees shake, wobbling like jellied eels. Sephiroth isn’t shaking. Taller than me, he stands still. Composed.
“On this day nine years since, a star tore in two and hurtled towards our realm. Each half is a representation of you, Princess Aerith of Gaia, Kingdom of Light and Making. And Prince Sephiroth of Meteor, Kingdom of Darkness and Unmaking. One cannot exist without the other, thus, it is written in the stars that you are to marry and multiply to keep the balance of our world. This is your duty.”
Swallowing thickly, I force my eyes forwards. I can’t but glance at my future husband. Caught looking at me, he turns his head. He doesn’t flush, but I do. My mother told a little about life yesterday, how we are conceived and how the falling star is connected. She said it is an act we must someday perform together. It sounded frightening and disgusting. Rude. But it is my duty – written in the stars.
The coolness of the room burns red. The courts gasp, and I look at the sky. A scream leaves my mouth as twin balls of flame crash towards us.
Falling to my knees, I cower. Sephiroth wraps his arms around me, covering me as the robed astrologers outstretch their hands, catching the fiery orbs in an invisible net.
Laughing, the courts applaud. Catching my breath, I know I must stand. I can feel mother looking at me disapprovingly.
Prince Sephiroth offers his hand. Taking it, I stand, unsure how my weak, trembling legs are supporting me.
Calming, the flames die. As the astrologers lower the star the mirrored ground, a small piece breaks off, plinking on the glass floor.
Tilting my head, I frown at the star, crackling with magic as it is forced to cool. It does not look like stars do in the heavens. This is a broken, dusty rock, flaking ash onto the floor, making a mess.
Stepping close, Hollander kicks the rocks.
I gasp, awed. The interior of the cracked star glitters with crystals, one half full of jet-black quartz, the other gleaming with white. Even Sephiroth’s mouth falls open. Hollander touches the crystallised halves, closing his eyes as magic thrums through the air, running through my bones, connecting me to Sephiroth, and us to the fallen star, bound by invisible threads as powerful as a nebula.
“Embrace your power, your majesties,” Hollander tells us. “From this star is its source, by this star you are bound.”
Mother told me so, she explained it all. I wondered what my power would be, now I know. I feel it as if my body has taken a breath, and I just know. This power I have, it wants to be used. Freed.
Hollander’s eyes roll into the back of his head. “The joining of night and day, dark and light, making and unmaking… will end Meteor and Gaia.”
“No!” Mother’s sharp exhale bounces off the glass walls.
“How can this be?” King Hojo exclaims, voice booming among the gasping courts.
Turning my head, their faces strike me with fear. They look like they’ve heard something terrible. They’re pulling the face I make when I’ve woken from a nightmare but am unsure that it was real.
“Both kingdoms shall fall,” Hollander continues, “unmade for eternity.”
“Enough!” Mother’s stern bark cuts through the glass room. “I have heard enough!” she storms away.
I stare at Prince Sephiroth for answers before dutifully following her. “Mother?” I call, dutifully following.
Some of the court have begun to sob, others ball their fists, shouting angry words.
“This marriage will not happen! Gaia shall not fall!” Mother cries.
King Hojo’s coattails swish behind him like angry wings. “We are agreed. Meteor shall stand for all of time.”
“Your majesties!” Hollander chases. “Your majesties, please! Should the Prince and Princess not be joined in starlight, the balance, the natural order, shall be disturbed!”
“We will handle it,” Mother insists, long skirts shushing as she marches.
“We’ve a duty to our Kingdom’s,” says King Hojo. “Should Meteor fall, darkness shall be released, and immortality unmade.”
“Likewise, light shall disappear and pestilence made,” Mother continues.
I break the rules to keep up with them – I run. Prince Sephiroth’s legs are longer than mine. He walks fast, tilting his head, listening to every word. “Did we do something wrong?” I ask him.
“I don’t know.”
“I’m sorry!” I blurt as tears fill my eyes. “I must have done something wrong. I don’t think they want me to be your wife anymore.”
Our parents walk their separate ways, towards the opposing doors, turning their backs on each other, followed by their courts, who wipe their eyes, cling to each other, and steady their breathing, echoing through the hall.
“Come along, Sephiroth!” King Hojo calls.
Standing still beside me, Sephiroth regards me with sad, green eyes. “At least, a long time ago, we were together in the stars, Princess.” Bowing, he hurries after his court.
In the middle of the hall, I look up at the dust floating like stars. Something stirs uneasily within me. Suddenly, I want to scream and cry, beg my mother to change her mind and take this horrible feeling away.
But I know she won’t. She’s made up her mind. So, I close my mouth, wipe my eyes, and follow my court.
***
That night, the shadows roused. Come morning, the survivors turned to stone.