"You are the worst boy, Theodore Laurence."
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For centuries, humankind has used the stars. Whether it be for navigating across unfamiliar oceans, for preserving myths and legends of great heroes who were bestowed a spot in the heavens by the gods...
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THE WORLDHAD passed by Charlotte Laurence's eyes in a blur of carefully stitched together memories and entirely-too fast of years. Days and weeks and months had melded together like paint on a palette, mixing into one long, endless hour of simple happiness that never seemed to end.
Unconsciously, Charlotte's fingers trailed along her jaw, feeling the smooth skin of her cheeks beneath her fingers. Her face had aged with time, slowly losing the roundness and light of childhood and maturing into an image of youthful adulthood. In her eyes she saw her mother, proudly beaming with joy and praise. In her nose and the light freckles that darkened in the summer along her cheekbones, she saw her father, smiling with a heart full of admiration for who his daughter had become.
The wedding ring on her finger grazed her skin, sending shocks up her spine even years after it had first been placed there. Charlotte still couldn't believe it. Every morning as she awoke and glanced upon Laurie's face, she almost pinched herself to rouse herself from the most fantastical dream before realizing this was no dream.
Charlotte was pulled from her thoughts and daydreams and back to the rolling green fields of Plumfield Academy by a tug of her skirt.
Aunt March had succumbed to old age not long after she had returned from Europe, and in a shocking display of affection, she had left her entire estate to Jo, who had put everything into turning the formerly stuffy and gloomy mansion into a school fit for the children of Concord. Gone were the cobwebs and dark curtains and shelves upon shelves of nothing but Belsham and in their place was light and the blooming promise of new beginnings.
One of Charlotte's students stared up at her helplessly, his lips pressed together with agitation and a map hung limply at his side. "I don't understand this! It makes absolutely no sense."
Charlotte tried to contain her smile as she took the map from the student's hands. Memories of a young Charlotte looking up to her father with the same frustration in her eyes danced in her head. She bent down to his level and unfurled the map before them. The young student looked on with defeat, his eyes glossing over the thousands of stars and constellations with exasperation. Charlotte's fingers traced the constellation of Eridanus with aching familiarity.
"Oooh," Amy March's voice echoed across the years. "What's that?"
Charlotte fought a smile as she remembered that day in the Laurence's library, cold and shivering from the snow, her heart still ramming against her ribs as she calmed herself after chasing after Amy. She still had that book of constellations, the edges fraying from years of love and adoration, now teaching and sharing her love of the stars with a new generation.
"The story says, Phaeton, the son of the sun god Helios, begged his father to let him drive his chariot.Helios worried his son was not strong enough, but agreed to let him take the reins. Phaeton couldn't control the chariot and caused all kinds of havoc, burning the heavens and the Earth." Charlotte clasped the student's hand in hers and dragged a finger along the collection of stars, tracing the looping, jagged trail in the sky. The student giggled as his confusion began to give way to budding excitement. "Zeus struck Phaeton with a lightning bolt to stop him, and he fell into the sacred river, Eridanus. The stars make up the path Phaeton took."
