Chapter 9: One With the Sky

DANICA

I tilted my head back, despite the strain it put on my eyes. The sky was a canvas of stars, millions of them, twinkling like frost under a flashlight. My head pounded, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away.

My eyes watered, but I kept them fixed on the celestial spectacle above. “What’s the purpose of this?” I asked the man propping me up. I clutched the necklace in my hands, unsure of its significance.

He didn’t respond, instead helping me fasten it around my neck. I couldn’t deny the stars looked otherworldly, as if they belonged to a different universe. A universe I yearned to be a part of.

A universe where I could reinvent myself. “Whatever your destiny, the sky is intertwined with it. It’s where you ascend. It’ll be there when you draw your final breath,” he said, gradually releasing his hold on me.

I stood on my own, feeling unsteady. “Try to see beyond what you think you know. Believe in the world above.”

I turned to the man, my breath coming in ragged gasps. “I can’t,” I admitted. I longed for the comfort of my bed.

To wake up pain-free, like always. To go about my day, dreading the arrival of night. He studied me, clearly wrestling with whether to speak or remain silent.

“Danica Murrell,” he finally said. “Danica Moore,” I corrected him. But he shook his head, indicating that wasn’t what he meant.

“Murrell was your mother’s name,” he explained, as I watched him with a skeptical expression. “Your father, Death himself, chose that surname for his beloved. It’s an ancient witch name, representing thousands of powerful witches.

“He knew his offspring would be extraordinary. He wasn’t wrong. You just need to see it for yourself. You were never meant for this human world.”

“Death…my father…” I struggled to accept this revelation. “Focus on the stars. They’re celestial beings, just like you,” he said, pointing to the sky.

“You’re familiar with these stars.” I looked up, confused by his words and the information he was feeding me. I was reluctant to believe him, and Ms. Moore, and the man from the park…but what if…what if the creatures from our fantasy stories aren’t myths at all?

What if they’re real, and we’ve just refused to believe it? What if the things we fantasize about are actually reality, and we’ve just been told they’re not? What if reality is entirely different from what we’ve been taught?

As children, we believed in these creatures. What if that’s the only time in our lives when we believe in fantasy, because as we grow older, we’re taught that such things only exist in our dreams and fantasies?

Why do so many people believe in shooting stars? If these things are fake, why have stories about them been passed down through the ages? A star… I spotted a shooting star in the sky.

It must have been close, because it appeared so large. Then, the sky erupted in a shower of shooting stars. A yearning stirred within me.

Something in my chest began to churn. I needed something, but I didn’t know what. Suddenly, my headache was gone.

The absence of pain sharpened my focus. The stars flickered like a thousand burned-out Christmas lights. I moved closer, or rather, the sky seemed to draw nearer to me.

My body tingled with an unfamiliar sensation. A new feeling awakened within me. My feet moved of their own accord.

I heard the man calling my name. He repeated it several times before catching up with me and spinning me around to face him. My eyes left the stars, but the sensation remained.

I smiled at the man, and he looked taken aback. He released me, as if he was afraid. I resumed my journey, following wherever my feet led me.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally arrived at a secluded lake nestled in the heart of the woods. The stars continued their celestial dance, cascading down from the heavens as I approached the water’s edge, my reflection staring back at me.

I hardly recognized the face looking back at me. It was an improved version of me, a version that should have surfaced long ago. A moon was etched on my forehead, stars encircling my eyes.

My hair shimmered, dusted with a radiant stardust. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was exactly who I was meant to be. I had never felt more beautiful.

A smile graced my lips, the first genuine smile in what felt like forever. How could this unfamiliar sight make me feel more like myself than anything else in the world?

A wave of bittersweet emotion washed over me. This wasn’t my life, I wasn’t this powerful being, I knew I wasn’t. I lifted my gaze back to the night sky, a shower of stars raining down.

A smile tugged at my lips, even as tears streamed down my face. My heart pounded in my chest, threatening to burst. Suddenly, a tingling sensation spread to my hands.

I looked down to see my hands aglow with stardust, a sight of pure wonder. But then, black smoke began to swirl around me. I stumbled back, the scene before me no longer innocent and beautiful.

I couldn’t control it. The smoke was consuming everything around me. Panic set in as I tried to shake off the smoke, but it was futile. I collapsed, succumbing to unconsciousness.

It felt like mere seconds had passed when I came to. My vision swayed, and I closed my eyes, relishing the rare moment of tranquility. After a while, my senses returned.

I was being carried through the dark forest. I lifted my head to see the same man from before, his gaze fixed straight ahead. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

I glanced at my hands, now adorned with star-like tattoos in silver and black. “By dawn it will go away,” he said, referring to the marks.

“How do you know?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve met a few like you. The marks appear at sunset and disappear by sunrise, just like the stars,” he explained.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asked again, reminding me that I was still in his arms. I pushed myself away from him, not wanting him near me.

I looked up at the sky, now a normal night sky, devoid of shooting stars. “What was that?” I asked, turning back to him.

He took a moment before responding. “Your body isn’t accustomed to that kind of power. Holding that much energy is difficult, especially since it was hidden from you. It made you weak. You’ll need to train for that,” he explained, though he didn’t really answer my question.

I didn’t know what else to say to him. “Danica…you are a celestial nymph,” he said. I couldn’t help but laugh.