Polaris ~ a Winter tale

This story narrate of a beginning.

The start of a story

telling the tale of a Star,

shining so bright,

it shook the heavens.

A star so radiant, it guides your way.

A glimmering hope and an honest dream:

It all began with the end;

Walking in darkness. Drowning in eternal despair, sorrow, pain and fear. Emotions of hated redemptions, an ancient pool of the Dark itself. All that makes our mind shatter, our souls to break. Forgotten screams, tears, laughter. Legendary tales of heroes long since fallen. The demons. The soulless. The lost. Pieces of disregarded honour. What dreadful place this is, for a wandering Soulwarden to be. An afterlife of eternal struggle, constantly trying to get some air, never to be found. Silently letting the tears flow. To let them slowly wither and dissolve within this void called the Abyss.

This is where I am. A lost Soulward with forgotten memories. Trying to remember the life I once lived. Reaching out for help, guidence, anything at all. My tears dance upwards as they dissolve in the darkness. The only slither of light to focus on. The only reason my mind still holds onto sanity. Is there no end, I wonder in lonely solitude, as my Soulward’s bodyframe, picturing that of a young girl, gradually falls deeper. That’s when I saw it. Something new. Dangerous perhaps, but even so.. Curiosity wins me over, and bit by bit, the bodyframe of my Soulward swims for it. A droplet of flaming light. It brought colours to this grim place. Blue & silver. Shades of green. Purple & violet. Pink, red, & ember. Grey, brown and golden. It even managed to distinguish black as a beautiful colour on its own.

I reach out with my hands underneath this droplet, nearly half my size. Its flaming outbursts suddenly reach for my outstretched hands, crawling up my arms. It does not hurt, nor can I truly feel its presence. It’s like the droplet isn’t even there. As if this is all a vision. An illusion. The droplet completely covers up my frame. It engraves something on my Soulward. Shard of Remembrance. With it, all of the abyss dissapeared, leaving me in a starry sea.

Standing on a bridge made of moondust and light. The millions of small lightbobbles of stars around me. It is still dark in between the fragments of light, but it no longer feels horrid. Rather, it’s filled with soothing calmness and warmth. The darkness here shimmers with tones of midnight blue, black and the purple of dawn. Breathing in the air for the first time again, my senses open up to the scent of frost, leather and apples.

Opening my eyes once more, I find myself looking upon a grand house, standing on the ground underneath me. Belonging to this manor, are multiple stables inhabiting many different animals, two barns, a shed, some workshops including a blacksmith area, and a gigantic garden. The garden held many apple trees, among many other variables, such as vegetables, fruits, & herbs and plants with healing properties. Though, there were other plants: trees and flowers, that were simply pretty or useful in other ways. The manor in itself was rather impressive as well. White walls, two floors, nearly majestic architecture. No doubt the inside will look gorgeous as well. A winter garden attached to the southern side, balconies at the second floor on the western and eastern side. On the first floor, levelling the ground, was a veranda covering the west, north and east sides of the house. The way main entrance to this house was found at the north, facing the rest of the estate. There was also an entire village within the estate, with traditional markets, workshops, merchants selling their goods, normal housing and watchtowers.

This was once my home. A young girl belonging to the manor of this territory. A girl full of mischief and rogue behavior, not befitting a young lady. One of her favourite pranks was to steal apples from the apple fields in the garden. She meant no harm by doing what she did. She rarely got the chance to be outside and made the best out of it by having some fun and playing around. Though she loved pulling pranks, she loved one thing even more: stories. Whenever she could, she would wander through town, searching for someone on break, that would be willing to tell her all she wished to learn and wondered for. No matter who they were, or what their speciality was, she would listen intently to their stories told. Sometimes she would even try out their field of work. When she did, the workers would watch her like a hawk, not to find fault in her tries, but to be certain, she would not harm herself trying. Or keep her from fainting due to overexitement, as would happen often.

When she was not outside, she would spend her days in the music room, or in the library. That was, whenever she was stable enough to move outside her room. Reading kept her thoughts away from the constant coughing, and allowed her to live through thousands of lives and experience many things that she would never be able to on her own accord. And where books would keep her mind of off her situation, music would allow her to let go of the pain and overflowing emotions trapped inside her little body. To rid herself of constant harassment by the hallucinated spirits haunting her. To express her love and care for her family and the townspeople. Music is the only thing that would fully put her at ease and express everything that she was unable to form to words. To fill her up through heart, bone and mind. While she sang and played any of the dozen instruments in the room, her entire being would light up, giving off an aura so bright, it melted the tension in every one of those listening, or watching her play. She had an unusual gift to let anyone and anything to open up themselves, to let go of their own fears, sorrows and pain, even if only in those moments.

Her appearance was that of a bright moon on a star filled sky; the silver in her hair trying to outshine even the sun itself. The eyes were a blazing fire of Rubin and gold. Sparkling with joy and wonder whenever she got to watch the starry skies above at night. She would often get problems breathing during the night, so her father gently scooped her into his arms and stayed with her while she was stargazing. This was the only thing that could calm down her rapid breathing, and lead her to dream. She always wondered why she was the only one in their family to hold silvery white hair. Both her parents and her siblings had normal brown coloured hair, though some may have had some shades of copper, auburn or black. She was also the only one with red-tinted eyes, as the rest of her family had their recognizable eye colour of molten gold mixed with honey. An eye colour only their bloodline could inherit, called the Golden Honey Eyes. It was a symbol of their ancestral virtue towards life and noble actions by generous actions for both the people and their land. It is why our family lives out into the countryside, caring for each and every citizen of the growing town, as well as tending to all the plants and orchards among the other workers. Such an act would shatter the hierarchy between blue-blooded nobles and the commoners, giving the image of all being united as one people, working side by side, sharing laughter and morals.

It is perhaps due to this inherited virtue in her family’s bloodline that they kept her under their roof, tending to her even though she was weak and ill. Any other noble in this country would have cast her into the woods to die. But she was able to live, however short, among a loving and caring family while leading a somewhat eventful life. This was the reason why she pulled pranks and tricked her fellow residents. She did not want them to worry too much and wanted them to remember her as the lively spirit she felt like in her soul. She was a fighter and a protector, desperately trying to defeat the beast within her that slowly but surely devoured her.

It was during one of her nightly seizures, that she recognized blood and yellow gore trough her coughing and rapid breathing. Her father came to her room, scoping her up in his arms as he always did. He was smiling, kissing her brow, telling her it was alright. They would soon be outside were the stars shone brighter than ever, and there were even some northern lights dancing today. And they did. It was one of the most spectacular night sky she had ever witnessed. It was a moonless night, but it wasn’t dark at all. But even so, the young girl knew; this would be the last time she would see this gorgeous sight of wonder and beauty and, and life. Even worse than the view, this would be the last time she could see her father’s smiling face or sit scooped up in his strong arms. So, she told him, however weakly, to summon everyone. He wanted to joke it off, but perhaps he saw something in the little girl’s eyes, or maybe he felt that something was amiss. He did as asked, and as such everyone from the manor filled up next to them on the balcony, watching the night sky. Some had tired eyes, others had worry in their eyes, but they all stayed silent and gazed upon the events happening above.

The young girl looked at each and every one of the ones present, as if committing them to memory, painting their portraits in her vast mind. Lifting her head slightly, to get a better view of the many stars above, as if wanting to touch them, or dance with the playful foxfires called northern lights this far north. And so, she opened her mouth and sang the last song she would ever sing. A song of sorrow, of pain and the crawling death that crept so slowly through her veins, claiming her very lifeforce from beginning to the end. A song guiding those left behind, telling them of the road ahead. Explaining, more for herself, of what comes after she is only flesh and bones. That her dreams would soar through the skies, her songs would fill the entire world, as her own spirit would fly free and reach for those stars and misty fires, to dance, to shine. She poured out her unspoken wish of how she wanted to stay with them, how she wanted to lighten up their daily life. How she wished her strong will and hopes and her love for life would be enough to defeat what ate her up from the inside. The final tune of her voice truly filled the very air, prolonged in everyone’s mind, not just to those present, but everyone in town as well, as she proclaimed it was time to leave them behind, and move on.

With a gasp, I was back at present time, standing as nothing more than spirit, with a form of the girl I once were, and my will and wish stronger than ever. My Soulward is slowly wrapped up in those thousands of light bobbles that had been swirling around me, as I remembered who I used to be, and what that girl intended to do. I would be what I always wanted to be; someone to light up the dark, and guide those who are lost. My very bodyframe lit up and caught fire, though not to hurt or maim, but to reshape and mould my soul. As such, those flames and lights from the starry sea around me, became a part of me, as I take on the form of a star, brilliantly shining up the darkened night, casting a light on a group of people standing on a certain balcony, crying over the lifeless body of a lovely young girl that was fighting in a battle she had no way of winning, and yet gave her own light to those she loved. The townspeople filling the roads, placing a hand over their heart, giving their support and love towards their master’s house, towards the young maiden that played and listened whenever it best suited her. The wildfire now brightly playing in the sky, as a star filled with music and strength, giving a guiding hand for those in need.

And such would the star that came to be this eventful night forever be known in the honour of a young girl fighting fate itself to gain one more day with her family. To forever be a symbol for the ones losing sight of their path, or those losing one of their loved ones, be them young or old. Keeping a Legend alive through the stories told of the song of sorrow, the young maiden’s last words for the world. Telling the people that death is a normal part of life, and that for some it comes earlier than for others. Reminding the people that they should appreciate every day they are alive, and stay true to their own virtues, and holding on to the good memories of their loved ones. Be they members of your family, your friends or someone dear to them. Be it someone who has fallen on their road or gone astray from their original path by influence from others. One thing will always stay true, and that is the light of the lovely northern star named Polaris, calmly wrapping its light around you, gently nudging you to get back up on your feet and see the road still ahead. Your story is not yet finished, after all.

~ Story written by Sophie Ravynfalir

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