Starsong

Part I - Star

BEFORE

It was the girl by the window who noticed it first. She was sitting at her desk, twirling her pencil in hand, poring over navigation charts and maps with a crease in her brow when the flash of light outside caught her attention.

Focus immediately pulled off course, she leapt up and pressed her face to the window to get a better look. "Hey, guys, look – what's that?"

The boy with the book in his hand – on plane mechanics, much too complicated for someone his age, but not exactly for him – simply ignored her and made a noncommittal noise without even looking up once, knowing just how easily distracted she could get.

The other boy gluing the model plane together, however, did glance up, and almost immediately, set his project down to join the girl at the window. "Whoa," he breathed, breath fogging the glass. "Tam, seriously – you need to see this."

"What?" the boy with the book said, finally looking up, tone tinged with annoyance before he registered what he was looking at, eyes widening in surprise. "Wait – is that –?"

"Cool..." the girl whispered, opening the window and sticking her head outside as the boy with the book came over to their side.

Outside, lighting up the night sky, burning white hot and streaking towards the ground, was what was essentially a comet falling to earth.

_________________________

But it wasn't a comet.

No – it was a Star, unconscious, guided to the ground by the Starstorm wrapped around her, souls both gentle and ancient that whispered to her in an unknown, chittering language – not that anyone could hear it.

She fell from the sky like a stone and landed as light as a feather.

But out of those few who had seen her, only a few would remember, and even fewer would understand what, exactly, it was that had fallen.

Not a comet or a meteor or a girl, but a Star.

A wish.

_________________________

"Is this all of them?"

The woman strode back and forth between the row of children lined up in front of her, all trying to look their best, her skirts swishing around her, the frown on her face growing deeper and deeper with each orphan she inspected.

No, no, no and no.

Where was she?

Were the rumors false? Had someone else already gotten to her?

"Ah – well, not really," the headmistress fidgeted. "There's still another one, but she's a bit – well, strange, and just recently arrived, and the children are scared of her, so –"

"Take me to her," the woman commanded.

"Very well," the headmistress said, bowing her head slightly, a small sigh escaping her mouth. "She's upstairs – follow me."

They headed up a set of steps, boards made of old wood that creaked underfoot, before stopping at a door. The headmistress knocked. "Kaya? There's someone here to see you."

She opened the door to reveal a sparse, empty room, furnished with only a bedside table with a lamp and a bed. A young girl leapt up from where she was sat on its edge, tucking her hands behind her back like she had been caught doing something she shouldn't be.

She was young, by all means, only about ten or so, perhaps, and while at first glance she looked normal, there was a strange sort of glow about her – her hair and lashes had an almost silvery sheen, and a faint shimmer seem to come from her skin, like it had been dusted with the stuff of stars.

"We found her on the doorsteps of the orphanage a week ago, poor thing," the headmistress said. "No idea where she came from, and she doesn't seem to remember anything either."

However, the headmistress's recollection of the event only flew over the woman's head, whose lips curled in triumph at her success.

She had found her.

The Star.