Wings of Starlight

It was strangely comforting— and strangely beautiful, to be known without having to speak a word.

Clarion." He said her name like a plea. "Weighed against your life, they are nothing to me. I would make that trade every time.

For those who see the world as it could be: brighter and full of magic

Milori tipped her chin up so that he could meet her gaze. “You will have all your subjects to love you. And even if I am not beside you, you will still have me. There will never be a star brighter. I will always love you.

She loved him. Perhaps she was always bound to, from the very moment she saw him standing on the border. How could she not? She loved his steadfastness, his kindness, even his reckless, selfless bravery. She loved his wry humor and his unshakable devotion to his people. She loved him because he had set her free, too. And yet, he had broken her heart.

Be angry if you must," he said, "but I can't lose you.

When things seem impossibly dark, bulb flowers are sparks of hope. It takes time for things to bloom. You just have to be patient and nurturing. So be nice to yourself. You’ll grow into it, I promise.

The stars overhead glittered brighter. Wonder filled Milori’s expression as their light danced on the snow fluttering around them. When his gaze found hers again, she could not remember how to draw breath. How beautiful, to see the exact moment he fell in love with her. Perhaps he had always loved her, on some level, ever since that night he allowed himself to hope again.

How could she ever teach new arrivals to fly? How could she dare to unfurl their wings with the tenderness they deserved when she would always remember the ones she had broken?

For a moment, the two of them lay side by side like a couple of stargazers. Slowly, Clarion splayed her fingers out across his chest and propped herself up to peer down at him. His hair pooled around him, a spill of white against the muted blue of the ice. For just a little longer, she wanted to stay here, where nothing existed but the two of them.

It amazed her how a place could carry both such joyful and painful memories. But she wanted to remember Winter like this: a friend, holding its companionate silence with her.

Perhaps it would have been better to pine than to mourn.

She twined her fingers in the fabric of his cloak where it met at the dip of his collarbone. Holding his gaze, she said, "I don't want to leave." Milori looked as though he had been waiting his entire life for those words. A dam had given way within him, and the emotion burning in his eyes broke over her like a wave. His hands came to rest over hers, his fingers encircling her wrists. She could feel the wild thrum of his heart beneath her touch, the chill of his skin seeping into hers. "Then don't," he murmured into the bare space between them. Don't. As though it were the simplest thing in the world.

Go," Clarion whispered. "Please." He looked stricken. "I can't." He knelt at her bedside. "Not yet.

I do not think I’ve been subtle about it, but I feel I should tell you that I like you, too.” Clarion couldn’t help laughing, even through the threat of tears constricting her throat. She leaned her forehead against his shoulder, if only to hide how much his words had affected her. She supposed she had known for quite some time how he felt, but to hear him admit it aloud . . . It made *this*— whatever it was— real: something she could lose.

I love you too." He said miserably.

I don’t regret what I’ve done, nor do I blame you for what happened. I’d do it again if given the opportunity.

Weighed against your life, they are nothing to me. I would make that trade every time.

Few will ever know that even the most mundane thing - the waning of the moon, the flow of the tide, the serendipitous reappearance of a lost trinket beneath your kitchen table - is magical

He was gazing at her like she was something to marvel at. His expression went soft and unguarded when he noticed her staring back at him, as though he hadn’t expected to be caught but did not mind it overmuch. There was no mistaking the wide-open yearning in his eyes. He had looked at her like this once before, she realized: the very first time she’d crossed into Winter. She wondered exactly how long he had wanted to kiss her—and felt very foolish, indeed, for being so oblivious.

Through the clamor and seething of battle, she found her true north: Milori.

If memory serves, queens aren't born from just any star, but a star that a child has wished upon. Maybe dream-talent magic lives on in you—in all governing talents.

This close, she was struck by the true color of his eyes: a stormy gray, with the faintest touch of glacial blue. She could see his expression softening as he gazed back at her, and— She was still holding his hand.

Did you know that I saw your star fall?

Clarion stayed on the bridge until he vanished into the tree cover, until the clouds overhead gave way and gentle rain began to fall. She stood alone in Spring as the scent of petrichor rose around her, staring out at the cold emptiness of Winter. It would call her home for the rest of her long life.

Conviction felt like sunlight, illuminating her from within. Maybe her heart had never really steered her wrong.

When I saw you rise from that star, I think I understood something of what mothers must feel. I know how difficult and confusing it is to be told from the moment you draw your first breath that the world depends on you.

From the warm, secluded safety of her bedroom, there was something so peaceful about it - and so lonely. Just like her.

I needed to know if she'll be all right," Milori replied, his voice hoarse.