𝒅𝒆𝒋𝒂 𝒗𝒖

𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆 - 𝒉𝒊𝒎

Aurora Popov, a true mystery.

She was a true games master, spending her whole life playing the game, learning it and mastering it. That's how she survived, and especially for so long.

Stay in the background, stay hidden.

For a girl who basks in the sunlight, lighting up an entire room with her smile. The girl with the laugh so refreshing that you just have to turn over to look at the being deserving of such a creation.

Staying hidden was hard, especially when the sun seemed to follow her like a shadow. She was the unconscious puppet master and the light was her willing puppet. She did not know she possessed the strings to control this puppet. 

Yet

Every name she gave herself was special. Her first name was Eldora. Her true first name.

The memory of Lord Bern, her father, gifting Eldora a book about the sun and the knowledge surrounding it, was hazy, but still there. She can remember the excitement of finding her name, "Gift from the sun".

Anyone who ever had the pleasure of witnessing Aurora would agree that "Gift from the sun" was an extremely agreeable name for her.

He loved that name. She was the epitome of the sun. And he was her moon.

But thinking of Him, never ended well, just centuries of pain.

Why couldn't Aslan allow him to be like her?

Ageless, forever a gift from the sun, subconsciously lighting up his shadows.

Now every name since, she chooses something to remind her of him. Sun names follow her like shadows. She hopes one of them are his.

He floats around her thoughts, swimming through the currents of her brain, trying to stay afloat.

The constant ache in her chest, the way her heart skips a beat at every shadow.

Surely if she is light, he must be dark?

The shadows haunt her, a constant reminder of him. His silk black hair, thousand strands of shadows, the laughter that shook his body and the gleam in his eyes when she spread wild flowers through them. Little stars of white energy, happiness encased in black.

He was her moon. The flowers her stars.

How could he have the audacity to have stars in those eyes.

She always loved stargazing.

The life they created, he was a King. She was a florist. Together they made the kingdom flourish.

Apart they wilted.

How could Aslan keep him from her? Who took her moon?

Aurora Popov, assistant Cartographer in the First Army. She was never content, not greedy, maybe missing the luxuries of being a queen, including the occasional warm bath. She missed him.

Centuries was far to long to pine. But here she was.

Aurora, the goddess of sunrise, and pinning for an old, lost love, her moon.