𝕓𝕖 𝕞𝕪 𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 | 𝔽𝕣𝕖𝕖 𝕕.𝕝.𝕙.

Glass shadows: an interlude

People are like stained glass windows, they sparkle and shine when the sun is up, but when the moon rises, we are reduced to nothing but glass shadows.

"Thank you, Theo. It's adorable."

Theodore watched as Star turned the small figurine over in her hand so the silver crystal caught the sun's rays at just the right angle. The gauzy curtains in her favourite shade of light blue fluttered as she gave a wane smile, attempting to cheer her husband up.

The figure was crafted with incredible attention to detail and every feather on the tiny raven's body was etched clearly. Its eyes were replaced with two brilliant blue amethysts while more of the precious gems lined the bird's tail feathers.

It seemed almost life-like, like it would cock its head and rustle its feathers at any moment. It was intricate, and elegant, and beautiful-

It wasn't enough.

Looking at Star's tired face, Theodore suddenly wanted to kick himself for gifting her such a small, insignificant sculpture that was of no use whatsoever. When he saw it in a shop window, he had bought on impulse, wanting to remind her of their childhood and the ravens, their friends. Now he saw how foolish that had been.

The figure could not cure her, nor bring back the sparkle in her eyes or the bounce in her steps. It could only sit on her drawer and watch the life drain out of her slight frame helplessly.

Just like him.

Star must have seen the crease in his brow, because she reached out and took his hand.

"Don't frown, Theo. I'll be alright."

That was Star, always trying to make the best out of everything. She had smiled and put up with long nights alone when Theodore had been building the foundation of his wealth, attending bey battles and meetings by day and analysing stocks and statistics by night.

Now he had achieved his dreams, he had bought a mansion for his wife with a garden just like he had always said, he had everything to make her happy and see her smile light up her face again, but she was slipping away.

The baby wailed then, shattering Theodore's guilty thoughts. He felt a stab of realisation: it was the child's fault. For this, for everything.

She didn't even have a name yet; he hadn't had the heart to name her. Some selfish part of him wished that the baby would die instead of his Star, then everything could go back to what it had been. He could go back to lazy Saturday mornings with Star in the garden, just lying on the grass and watching the world go by together, her pointing out the clouds and their peculiar shapes, him smiling and wishing that moment could last forever.

It couldn't, but if it hadn't been for that accursed child with her large mournful eyes that were infuriatingly similar to his own, it might have. The eyes, it was her eyes that haunted him. They were almond-shaped and had a sharp tilt, like his own cyan ones, but the silver in them couldn't be inherited from him. No, that shimmer was from her mother's silvery pools. It was exactly how he imagined a combination of their eyes would look like.

"Theo, you should probably go to Ravlynne. She's crying."

Theodore nodded, then froze.

"Ravlynne?"

Star smiled and closed her eyes. She rested her head on the pillows.

"Yes, Ravlynne. It's a nice name, isn't it? I'd like to name her after the ravens. Do you still remember? There was one, he was my favourite. I think he liked me too. Connor, I named him. And he had a sister named Bonnie, and his friends were Tommy and Johnny and Ronny....and we would sneak out to feed them our leftovers...but they'd snatch them-I guess they were hungrier than even us. Theo?"