Starlight Court

1- Freedom

Pinks blossomed all around me. Hues of reds, oranges and yellows bloomed beneath my eyelids, so bright that even with closed eyes, it hurt to see. I opened my eyes, explosions sounded from left, right, and above me, star trails hissing and sliding along the darkness. Aurorians wave their hands around them as colors from every spectrum, explosions and starlight begin swirling around them. They move fluidly, their bodies like waves of silken robes and thread; a dance that their kind has spent eons mastering and perfecting for each night we celebrate our freedom from the Ulbinates. More booms and pops as they point their hands to the sky and release their powers, the sky illuminating so bright that a hiss slides from my gritted teeth.

Cheers and hollers sound as Astraeans sip on Moonlit mead, the sweet and aromatic beverage made from fermented Beenoid honey and celestial herbs and flowers wafted through the air. It clung to my nostrils, almost tempting me to seek out my own resolution in it, but I was on duty tonight. This meant being the only one sober during the forty-year celebration of our Kingdom.

Our planet of Insinom sat in the Alcyone System, a system thousands of lightyears from "Earth", a place we have studied in textbooks or have briefly glanced with the magic of the Stellariums. We orbit the stars of Alcyone and Vega. Vega is the brightest star in the multiverse, a star that even during the day shined so bright that our days seem eternal. I briefly glanced up at its twinkling form. It looked larger tonight, almost as if it was ready to jump from the sky and start celebrating with us. Yet, it clung to the darkness, a sphere of shimmer revolving around its celestial form, vibrating with energy one could only dream of feeling. I glanced back to the celebrating villagers, bodies smushed together on the front court of the Royal Palace of Astraea, my home.

The kingdom of Astraea was large, the largest on this side of the planet, with all species of life roaming from each and every corner. Stellariums loomed, their bodies bright and all consuming, Nebulites swirled and shifted, their forms going from gangly to ethereal, Astrognomes grunted as they lifted heavy battle axes to the sky, and even the ever-patrolling Galactic Knights were present, their thin, shimmering wings of light tucked into their armor. I watched as their faces squeezed in awe as the Aurorean performed in the night sky, they sipped heavily on their mead. Heads thrown back with belly laughter that made me ache with the feeling of missing out. The Psychic Sword hummed in my right hand, the hilt burning my palm, reminding me to stay focused, that I am responsible for a lot of lives tonight. The Ulbanites may not have attacked in over forty years but that did not mean they were not preparing for another attack, one that would surely devastate us. I hissed as the hilt of my sword started singing through my leather glove.

"Alright, alright, I'm focused," I hissed at it. The small gold encrusted eye that lay on the pommel slid closed, accepting that I was finally paying attention. I huffed an exasperated breath as I surveyed the cold weapon that held strong in my hands. Its long golden blade shone, even for as dark as it was tonight, speckles of stardust engraved into the metal that twinkled depending on the angle I held it at. The handle was made out of woven star thread, a fine, almost iridescent material that the Astrognomes mined deep in our mineral caves, a material that rivaled Earthly Titanium even in its weakest form. The eye that had watched me daydream earlier was shut tight, long, blue lashes framed its almond shape, an orange, glowing eye hiding just beneath the surface. It was a twenty first birthday gift from my father, King Rigel. A head nod to the fact that I was destined to be a Galactic Knight, even though they were never too fond of having a female join.

A hand claps down on my shoulder, nearly knocking me over where I stand at my post on a riser above the crowd. I gasp as I swing my sword up in front of my face, the tip dangerously close to two pairs of lips I have come to know all too well. They slowly smirk at me, a small breath grazing my face. "Orion," I whisper. My eyes slide from his smiling, pink lips up to the arch of his strong nose, to the brown eyes that stare back at me, humor dancing like stardust in them.