˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖ 𝕬 𝕾𝖔𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖋 𝕴𝖈𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕱𝖎𝖗𝖊 ˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖
" Do not pretend you are some meek,
pathetic little girl when I can see that
vicious mind working behind your eyes"
A Shiera Dayne NOVEL
PLOT...
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𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄
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"I aim to be lionhearted, but my hands still shake and my voice isn't quite loud enough"
Shiera always believed that waking up to a gentle, warm breeze was the best way to wake up. That was a daily occurrence at Starfall. Her days were pretty much all a repetition of the other, but she never minded it. Shiera loved familiarity. She loved the idea of knowing exactly what was coming to her. And her days were always the same: wake up with the warm breeze caressing her face, get up, call the maids, get ready for breakfast, go eat with her father, study, play with the other girls at Starfall... During the whole day, all Shiera would think about was the night.
She always looked forward to seeing the light blue sky fade into shades of pink and orange and, finally, being engulfed by the dark blue that she longed for, and see the stars glittering in the night sky, shining bright and creating drawings that only she could see.
Shiera always felt one with the stars. One of the only memories of her mother, Alysanne, was her telling a story of how Shiera was born from a fallen star. Alysanne always said that Shiera learned all the constellations before even her own name. Whenever Shiera would cry, Alysanne knew it was time to bring her to see the night sky, to let her see the shapes in the shining bodies, taking her to a universe far far away that would calm her instantly.
Kids always believe whatever their parents say, so, naturally, Shiera was absolutely certain that she was the daughter of the stars. She could spend hours just looking at the stars, the moon. Wondering who put them there, if they could talk, if they could come down where she was and take her with them to live in the sky, fly in the night and shine bright. Whenever she looked at the stars, it was as if she disappeared from earth. She would forget all about her life on the ground and imagine being up there.
She often didn't sleep to watch the stars as long as possible. She would go down to the shore and lay on the sand, just looking up. It was then that she would spend hours and hours just talking to the stars as if they were her mother. She would complain about her dad not paying attention to her or rant about the books she was reading, her deepest fears, what she wanted to become, and who she wanted to be. She found it comforting.
