She Who Treads Amongst the Stars

Chapter 8: The Wish

"Rosalina?" The girl heard tiny patters on the cloth-covered dome entrance. "Please come out..."

"Go away, Polari," she rasped before burying her face into her royal purple tear-stained pillow.

"Rosalina, it's been several days!"

"I don't care! Now go away!"

"We're deeply worried about you! Besides, the younger Lumas are getting scared..."

She balled the blankets into an agitated fist. "You don't get it, do you? I lost everything that mattered to me, and I'm never gonna get it back! I won't ever see them again! How can I go on, knowing that?"

A brief silence followed, and at first, she thought she succeeded in driving her advisor away. But then his muffled voice reached her ears with a sorrowful tremor.

"I get that your blood family meant everything to you. But there's another family out here, one that needs you and deeply cares about you. Aren't we worth something?"

He was right, of course. How selfish had she been? She slowly sat up, running a hand through her hair and exhaling slowly.

"I don't want them to see me like this," she said, her voice softer this time.

"I think I speak for all the Lumas when I say we'd rather see you upset in the flesh than not see you at all."

"...Okay. Give me a minute." For the first time since locking herself in, Rosalina left her bed, her legs cramping up as she stumbled towards her wardrobe. The mirror reflected a person she had never seen before. Hair disheveled, dress wrinkled, face flushed red with drying tear trails. She hadn't bothered to wipe them away, so even her ears felt damp. There wasn't much she could do to freshen up besides patting her stray hairs down and blowing her runny nose into a handkerchief. She absolutely refused to use her magic right now: what good was it if it couldn't save her parents?

Ugh, I'm thirsty, she thought, noticing the desert in her throat that made it hard to swallow. When was the last time she ate? And her body screamed at the first signs of serious movement in days. She needed to slowly pace for a short while to get the blood flowing again. And, despite herself, her thoughts ran with her.

Almost all her life spent in outer space, Rosalina remained an optimistic, cheerful soul. Whether it was just her with Luma, mingling with the residents of this or that galaxy, or taking care of her new family – she always held a smile on her face. Whatever feelings of longing or regret she had about Earth, she kept inside and stuffed deep into her mind. Except for brief pangs of bittersweet nostalgia, Rosalina didn't even realize she missed her home so much. She should have known it was all going to explode someday.

After her initial crying fit, Rosalina isolated herself within the bedroom without much ceremony. She ignored or dismissed the Lumas that came after her – a heartless thing to do in retrospect, but the pain ran too deep. It dug its talons into the very depths of her soul and ripped her spirit to shreds, causing the worried cries of her children to dwindle into a vapid nothingness. She ignored what little remained of her compassionate spirit begging for her attendance to them, giving in to the overwhelming, ceaseless sea of remorse. That sea became quite literal as she proceeded to cry a lot: so much so she eventually couldn't continue because all her tears had been wept. Polari, bless his soul, wordlessly took on the torch and did what he could for the Lumas while she grieved.

Would it be an exaggeration to say she didn't want to live anymore? She didn't think so. The only thing that kept her alive was the dull, yet present reminder that all those Lumas needed her. Especially... her Luma.

Yes. If nothing else, she would do this for the lost child she found so long ago, lost and crying out for his missing mother. Reluctantly, she took a deep and trembling breath, shaking her hands at her side. Then she picked up her wand, holding it with a white-knuckled grip.