CounterPart

34 | I've Always Wanted To Crash My Funeral

Starflight was alone.

For the first time in his life, he was truly alone.

The night was shrouded in an eerie stillness as he stood at the edge of the gathering, keeping his wings folded tightly against his sides. The air felt heavy with sorrow, a thick blanket of grief that wrapped around every dragon in attendance. He couldn't see it, but he could hear it all.

Starflight shuffled on the tips of his claws. Fatespeaker's laugh, her relentless optimism, her unwavering enthusiasm - how could all of that just be... gone?

He couldn't bring himself to look at the makeshift pyre, the place where they would send their final farewells. They didn't have a body: he assumed it would have been lost at sea. It was too final ... too real. 

Instead, he focused on the murmuring of the other dragons around him. He could hear Tsunami's quiet sobs; feel the weight of Glory's sadness in her blue scales as she stood near the front; and even sensed the deep sorrow in Clay's posture. Sunny was crying quietly into Squid's shoulder, - he remembered with a jolt just how close she and Fatespeaker had been.

But it was his heart that ached with a pain that felt like it would never heal. Fatespeaker was supposed to be the one who brought light to his darkest thoughts.

She wasn't supposed to leave him. Not like this.

He couldn't banish the tsunami from his nightmares. 

"Starflight!" She'd yelled. "Go, FLY! Fly on ahead, I'll catch you up!" 

He'd protested, told her he wouldn't leave her there, but she was insistent.

"One of us has to put an end to these disasters. One of us has to tell them, and it has to be you, Starflight!"

Though no matter how much he wished, he just couldn't be angry at Peril, knowing how she'd gone through so much pain and trouble. Fatespeaker would say she deserved happiness more than many dragons here. 

Starflight's breath hitched in his throat as he forced himself to focus on the present. He had to honour her memory. He owed her that much.

He just wished he could've shown her how much she meant to him in the time he still had. In the end, he supposed it had taken them all losing everything to realise how much it meant to them.

Queen Glory stepped forward. He tried to ignore her, but he couldn't.

"Fatespeaker was a light in all our lives. She saw the good in everyone, and she never gave up on those she loved. Er - even if they appeared to hate her. We gather here today not to mourn her passing, but to celebrate the joy she brought to us all."

Starflight sighed, letting the words wash over him. Glory was right - Fatespeaker had always seen the best in everyone. Even in him, when he could barely see it himself. He clenched his jaw, trying to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. How was he supposed to live without her? There was no-one else he wanted by side. 

No-one else would fit. He only wanted her. 

Suddenly what Peril said didn't feel ever so strange after all.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he almost didn't notice the rustling sound coming from the hedges at the edge of the forest. And when he did, it was immediately dismissed.

It's got to be the wind. Or some small creature. It's probably Nightstar, he thought miserably.

But then the rustling grew louder, more insistent, and Starflight's ears perked up.

The other dragons seemed to notice it too, their heads turned towards the source of the noise. Murmurs spread through the crowd, within a split second confusion had replaced the heavy silence. 

And then, the impossible happened, and a dragon stumbled out from the hedges. Starflight's heart momentarily caught and before he knew it, he was stumbling head over heel, nonsensical gibbering pouring out of his open tap of a mouth.

Because the first thing she said was:

"WAIT! I have a few things - to say!"

"Fatespeaker?" Starflight's voice finally came out as a strangled cry, disbelief and overwhelming relief flooding him all at once.

This was a dream. This could not be happening. This was HIGHLY STATISTICALLY UNLIKELY - 

But true.

Fatespeaker dragged herself forward, her steps unsteady but determined, crashing against the muddy ground.

"Didn't... think you'd... start without me," she panted, kneeling into his shoulder. "Always wanted to crash my funeral," she sighed.

Starflight couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. It felt like the world had stopped spinning, and all he could do was listen to her, the impossible dragon, in front of him.

Tsunami was the first to react, rushing forward with a yell of disbelief. "FATESPEAKER, WHAT IN THE THREE MOONS HAVE YOU BEEN - WHAT THE - What - I can't -"

Fatespeaker winced as Tsunami nearly bowled her over with a hug. "Easy... easy," she muttered, but there was a laugh in her voice. 

"Fatespeaker," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I... I - we all thought you were..."

"Dead?" she finished for him. "Yeah, so did I for a bit there. But I'm too stubborn to die. You know that."

Starflight didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so he did both. He pulled her into a tight embrace, feeling the tears stream down his face as relief and joy overwhelmed him.

"You're alive," he kept repeating, as if saying it out loud would make it more real.

Fatespeaker leaned into him, her own voice choked with emotion. "I'm alive. I'm here, Starflight. Did ... is everything... is it all okay, now?"

"Yes. Yes!" He laughed, despite himself, feeling as if he could shine brighter than any star in the moonlit sky, even if he'd never see it for himself.

"Starflight." 

"I'm here."

"No, I'm just saying your name. I like it, it makes me feel safe."

"Fatespeaker," he said back.

"Yes?"

"Nothing. I like it. It makes me feel safe too."

💛 • 🌼🌴 • 💚

~ Solar out

Hey guys ... you thought ... CounterPart was done?

In the original drafts, maybe.

But in this rewrite? NOT ANY MORE!

I feel like you've been starved of proper Sunsquid fluff so prepare for a few happy chapters at the end.