Starry Skies Book 1: Rewritten

Synopsis | Hiraeth

S Y N O P S I S

g e n e s i s

Hiraeth

Similarities between Starry Skies and any canon/fanon work are either coincidental or intentional. The concepts that will be presented in this book are products of my experience and imagination. I hope you won't steal any of the ideas I've built up for so long now, and I hope you won't accuse me of copying anything/anyone nor will you compare my work with anyone else's (canon/fanon). Thank you.

A/N: Heyyy! Surprise, surprise: I'm alive! :D Anyways, since there's a word limit to the book summary, I couldn't fit the entirety of the revised version. Don't worry, though! I decided to dedicate a chapter (not really a chapter, buuut you get my idea--) for the synopsis alone! To avoid confusion, there are TWO versions! One leans to a novelized style and focuses on a single character, and the other looks more similar to a simple summary and focuses on a lot of characters. Enjoy! COMMENT SPAMS ARE VERY APPRECIATED! <3

Genesis:
Hiraeth (n.) - deep longing for something, especially one's home

Version 1:

Once upon a time, I fell, but speak their names and watch me rise from my grave.

Nothing changed.

Rising and uniting, a cycle born from hope. Falling and dividing, a cycle born from despair. Despite her desperation to defy the loop, to right the wrong, doom flipped back to the first page and ripped off the rest, a tale abandoned until hell froze over. Paths between time and space led to dead ends, but in each existed a gateway. Behind it hid life and death, one for the weak and the other for the strong. Those prepared to surrender a sacrifice held the key unlock it—a worthy but tragic sacrifice.

Punished not for the sins of humanity but instead for her own lay the messiah, lips parted by words left untold and mind emptied by thoughts left unsaid. Tresses imbued brown, roseate tint enriched due to the glow slightly restrained by a palm, billowed from a scalp she presumed had been dug out. The ringlets ghosted over pale lids, which fluttered in a motion akin to butterflies that eluded snares. Understanding of phenomena she might be, yet a slumber she feared... for the heart saw what eyes didn't: tapestries woven from daydreams, torn at the seams by nightmares.

Walls and pillars caved in, the tension crushing her, reduced to a human in the oubliette designed by the devil—no surface to break through, no crevice to slip through. She limped forward, helpless to halt droplets concocted out of the finest rubies from descending in her wake. Puddles both old and new merged to create a stream. Alas, burgundy stained all meant to remain pure and white.

If it weren't for persistence, the wounds could've healed.

Which wounds, she thought ruefully, hobbling with purpose even after failing to steady the shoulders long heavy from balancing the world—the burden of mortals and immortals alike. If it weren't for her friends, none were worth saving, yes? Why must my pain... carry weight?

The answer entered as a tremor, continued as an ache so excruciating it deprived the poor girl of any strength to protest aside from collapsing to her knees, awash with memories of a past robbed from her. Jaws spread and claws raised, Death ambled with the likeness of a predator about to claim its prey. Naught but silence escaped.

Only now did she realize a tang lingering anew in her tongue. Death—a bittersweet presence. The friend courteous enough to keep her company, but also the foe ruthless enough to snatch her breath. Until she no longer remembered what it felt to live. Until she expected everyone and everything she cherished to die. Until she forgot herself.