A Court of Stars and Dust

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖓𝖊

I think I might've stopped feeling happy the second I realised nobody was coming to rescue me from my torment—when that tiny glimmer of hope blinked out, snuffed into silence by the darkness surrounding me. Now it's no more than a vague flicker of light, like a dying candle in the midst of a snowstorm, hidden in the back of my mind. 

I never felt like this when I had my freedom, not even when my mother—who I had loved more than anyone in the world—died right before my eyes. Not even when my sister, the only friend I've ever had, died alongside her. Even in the lowest part of my life, when I had lost half of my family in one fell swoop, I didn't feel so empty and alone. Maybe because I knew that, even if it took centuries, I could eventually learn to live without them. 

Nobody can learn to live with being locked up, though—nobody, no matter what they do or how hard they try, can learn to live without their freedom.

The dead fireplace seemed to stare back at me. It hasn't been lit in more than fifteen years, though I guess that's my own fault. I am the one who tried to burn myself to death, am I not? But really, who can blame me for it—almost fifty years in isolation does something to a person. Sometimes I'm not so sure I'm even the same person I was when I was locked up. I'm not sure I can even be considered a shell of her, I'm so empty.

I turn my head away, eyes lingering on the empty hearth for longer than might be necessary, and look out of my window. My window, barred and only just larger than my head, is the only salvation I can find here. My way of seeing out into the ever-changing world, while I'm suffering through being stuck on the inside. The only way I can somewhat interact with the outside world without being tackled and handcuffed and beaten till I'm black and blue. 

For example, I quite like when the animals—mostly small deer and birds and squirrels—stop and look at me through the little square, some even daring to come close enough for me to gently stroke their heads. And I like when the breeze blows leaves and little flurries of snow into my cell, because while they're cold and cause a mess that'll only make me uncomfortable later, they still make me feel a tiny bit more immersed. But mostly, I love the nights.

I hum happily to myself just thinking about it—being a Night Court citizen does have its perks, one of them being its absolutely breathtaking nights. My cell is dark and cold, so cold after they stopped with the fire, but the moon supplies me with the only friend I might need, the stars fill the room with a loving glow that even my dying hope can't force out. The night is my friend, it scares away all the monsters lurking in my dreams. And someday I'll find a way to repay it. 

If that even makes any sense, maybe I'm just going insane.

A strange clinking sound coming from somewhere in my cell yanks me out of my trance, and my head swivels to the side. Nothing has changed with the bland concrete square. I don't know why I thought anything would, anyway—nothing's changed in years, and nothing is going to change now. I begin turning my head back towards the window, when another sound sliced through the tense silence. Another clink, like two ceramic bowls tapping against each other.

My eyes immediately snap to where the sound is focused, and snag on something unfamiliar, something that wasn't there a few minutes ago. For years, all I've ever been fed is a bowl of lumpy porridge and a plastic cup of bitter water. Twice a week, and always loaded with more faebane than food. But now, in front of the door, is a little white plate with a thick raspberry muffin atop it. Beside the plate is a tall glass of what looks like and smells like orange juice.

I don't dare move closer, instead folding my knees close to my chest and wrapping my arms around to keep them in place. I'm staring at the food as though it's the most offensive thing, and I wonder for a moment if it might be poisoned. Maybe they've gotten everything they wanted out of me, and this is their "humane" way of putting me down.