Chapter the Twenty-ninth

Aria was in a dead wilderness.
Or perhaps it was a dream.
No, it was real.
Wasn’t it?
She couldn’t tell. She felt as though moths were nesting in her mind.
It seemed to her that she lay there, on the dry ground, for a long, long time. Suddenly, a face appeared over her. Great, shaggy, and grey- it was a wolf.
She did not wonder what a wolf was doing there, but she was very frightened. The only time she could remember being so afraid was… No, she had never been this afraid.
The wolf spoke, its voice low and majestic. "Do you remember me, little one? I knew you before you were ever born."
Aria knew those eyes, and though they were wild and untamed, she suddenly felt secure with the beast. But where was the recollection from?
She closed her eyes tightly. Memories filled her head, driving the moths into corners but not completely away. They were memories from another world, another lifetime. Snow, cold, being chased, tears, falling. Waking up. A wolf, licking her face with a warm tongue- restoring her to life before it was too late. "I- I remember you," she said. "I remember." And she knew she trusted him completely. Suddenly, she asked, "Is this death?"
The wolf shook its head. "No. Not death, not yet. Just its passing shadow. Now, hold onto me."
Aria latched her arms around his neck like a small, helpless child and held on as tightly as she could, burying her face in his long gray fur. As soon as she touched it, strength returned to her limp, weary limbs.
"Do not let go," the wolf warned, "or you may be lost."
"I won’t let go. I won’t let go," she said, her grip tightening. "But don’t let go of me, either," she pleaded.
"I never let go," said the rich voice that spoke of ages long, timeless and time-fulfilling.
He dragged her over mountains, across valleys, through rivers, under birds of prey. Aria should have been afraid. But she wasn’t.
You never let go, she thought. You are with me.
His thoughts answered her, traveling with her as well. I am always with you, he said back, And I will always be with you, dear one.
The journey was long and hard. But finally the wolf came to a stream. The water was clear and pure. "Drink," he commanded.
Aria leaned over the surface of the water and cupped it in her hands; the wolf stood over her, protecting her.
Aria drank.
The water was crisp and icy, sweet and good. She drank until her thirst was quenched, but the wolf told her to keep drinking. She drank until she was full. She drank until she could swallow no more. Under the safety of the wolf’s shadow, she lay down to sleep…
…"Wake up, child. Wake up."
Aria opened her eyes, and there was his face.
"It is time to go, dear one," he said.
"Oh, you’re not leaving me, are you?!" she cried, sitting up in alarm.
His face was fading away. "I will never leave you," he said again.
"Where am I going? Where am I going?!"
No answer.
"Who are you?!" she screamed.
His voice echoed all around her. "I AM. I AM. I AM. "
****
Gilligan sat with his head in his hands, feeling utterly helpless. Aria was dying, and he wasn’t even allowed to see her.
He had felt this way in regard to Aria at least twice before. First, when Torlith had taken Llorleya, and again more recently in the castle when Torlith discovered her. The first time, he had sworn to himself that he would never feel that powerless again- yet here he was. Twice the vow had been broken. Even with Torlith dead, he could not keep it!
The star rushed out of the tent. Gilligan looked up, as though asking if there was any change, but the star just shook his head and hurried away.
It fell silent.
Days passed in minutes.
The elf healer ran out, then she stopped. "Gilligan! It’s Aria."
Gilligan jumped up. "Is she dead?" He only mouthed the words. He could summon no sound to his throat.
The elf laughed. It was a shrill, relieved laugh. "No, nothing like that at all! Praise the Lord! She’s awake and she wants to see you!"
Gilligan didn’t hear another word after "she’s awake", as he was almost instantly at Aria’s side.

The moths had fled Aria’s mind. She felt less like a child and more like a queen again- but she could almost feel the woolly fur of the wolf in her hands, and she knew the feeling of utter helplessness without Him would never go.
It couldn’t have been only a dream.
Perhaps this, now, was a dream- perhaps her whole life was a dream- and only the wolf, the I AM, was real.
She opened her eyes. Songs circled around her, and she brushed them away as if they were cobwebs. Remnants of the ethereal notes whispered around her hair and flew through the tent ceiling in shimmering wisps.
"How long have I been asleep?" she asked the only other person in the room, a she-elf she didn’t recognized. To Aria’s surprise, the elf’s mouth dropped open, and she ran out of the room.
Aria raised an eyebrow. "What in the world… ?"
Next thing she knew, Gilligan had dashed into the tent and snatched her up in an embrace, whirling her around.
"What’s going on?" she asked, laughing.
"You don’t remember?" he asked, seemingly astonished.
"The last thing I remember" (from Llorleya, at least, she added to herself) "is that giant goblin creature."
"You were dying." There was a catch in his voice.
"How was I rescued?" she asked, sitting forward almost as if she were a child at story time.
"No matter," he said after a moment.
Aria cocked her head, examining his face, and finally asked, "What happened in the battle?"
"The fairies came," said Gilligan, smiling. "Just in time. We won."
She laughed aloud and hugged him again. "Really and truly? It seems like a dream." Gilligan smiled, but it faded when she asked who had died. "Anyone we hold dearly?"
"Loth," he said bluntly. "She died defending you after you were unconscious."
The wind left Aria’s chest. "It’s just like she said," she whispered, bowing her head. "It’s almost as though she’s seen visions, too…"
Gilligan did not ask her what she meant, as it did not seem like something it would profit him to know, or Aria to tell.
"Where is everyone now?" she asked, her voice quivering ever so slightly.
"The funeral pyres. They’re going to light them soon. One for those who were on Torlith’s side- and another to honor the heroes."
Aria looked up. "I’m going. Don’t protest! I’m not weak at all, honestly. Let me be with my people."

It was evening, and a calm had drawn over Llorleya. The sky had turned purple and chill quickly- winter was sending its herald to tell them, "I am coming; I am on my way."
There was a stench from the battlefield. The two piles of bodies that were to be funeral pyres reeked. But Aria felt no disgust- just sadness.
She met Rayne walking with a torch. The young woman seemed subdued, and Aria assumed it was because of Loth, or simply that it was a sorrowful time, a time to mourn. But she was only partly correct.
She clasped Rayne’s hand. "I heard," she whispered.
Rayne gave her torch to Aria, shaking her head. "Not- not just that. It’s… it’s Bronden," she said finally. "His sister was killed. I… he…"
Aria had no idea who Bronden was, but Rayne’s second sentence was laden with meaning. Simple words: Sister; killed. But together they became a fear in the night that mothers hug their children about.
Aria also knew the look in Rayne’s purples eyes. Maybe someone wouldn’t have known at a passing glance, or if he hadn’t felt it himself.
Rayne was in love. And now she felt that man’s pain as keenly as her own.
Rayne and Gilligan went off to get more torches, and Aria stood uncertainly by herself. A fairy then flew up to her, green wings shimmering in the firelight.
"I’m Tamello, a fairy bard," he sang. "Rayne told me about you, my Queen." Then he lowered his voice and alighted. "And I have something important to tell you."
"Certainly," said Aria, taken a little aback. What could he possibly say that was more important than what she was already doing?
When Rayne and Gilligan returned, they saw him speaking to her quietly. Her head was cocked and eyes wide with surprise. As they approached, she cast a sharp glance at Rayne. "Are you sure?" she whispered to Tamello.
"No," admitted Tam. "But I’m so close to being sure that I had to tell you."
"Thank you," said Aria, looking rather bewildered.
As Tamello flew away, Rayne asked, "What was that about?"
"Perhaps nothing," she said softly, remembering what an elf had once said to her. "But perhaps a very lot." Abruptly she turned to her friend and asked, "Rayne, would you say something to the people and be the first to light the pyre of heroes?"
Rayne almost jumped back. "What? Me?!"
Aria beseeched her, "Please, Rayne, you know I wouldn’t ask unless it were important. I hate to say it, but I’m strange to the Llorleyans. Foreign. I’m still Llorleyan, and I still understand them, but I’m also a star. Neither of those situations will change- but they don’t understand me. You’re familiar. One of them in a way I will never be again."
Rayne was stunned to hear these words. "What are you saying?"
Aria sighed. "I’m not sure. I haven’t figured it out quite as well as I thought I had."
After a pause, Rayne gave in. "Very well, then. I’ll say something for you. But I’m sure they’d rather hear from you!"
As Rayne walked lightly away, Aria shook her head to Gilligan and murmured, "If I were her, I wouldn’t be so sure."
Gilligan gave her a curious look, but had no opportunity to ask what his love meant; Rayne, afraid she might become too afraid, had already begun.
****
"We are here to honor and mourn the dead," Rayne said plainly. No use disguising the truth here with flowery words. For Rayne, at least, sorrow cut them out.
Her voice wavered a little, but she didn’t quite know whether it was grief or fear that shook it. "I’m only sorry so much blood was shed. But it was given freely, for freedom, and Llorleya must not forget her heroes.
"Blessed be the name of the Lord, who has given and taken and given again."
With those final words, Rayne cast her torch on the pyre of the fallen. At the same moment, Aria (who was hovering about the bonfire of their enemies) dropped hers. Others followed, weeping and praising at once, and the flames flared to life under the dark evening.
**********
Two days later, in the castle (after everyone’s been cleaned up)

Aria and Gilligan stood facing each other. He clasped her hands and brought them to his face, as though warming them. Aria looked up.
"I’m going to leave, Gill. My people need me."
Gilligan said nothing.
She pleaded with him. "You must understand. Without me, they will fall. They will die."
"I have always understood, you know," he said. "I thought this day would come, and I know you cannot stay… To have the blood of so many on your hands…"
"You said once you would follow me to the ends of the earth. Why can’t you come with me?" But Aria knew why; she just wouldn’t accept it.
"This isn’t the ends of the earth; it’s the beginning of the sky."
Aria looked down.
Gilligan said quietly, "I cannot fly."
"There must be some way of bringing humans-"
"But up there, I’d be useless, a burden, worse than lame." He hesitated. "Perhaps it’s best this way. You might fall in love with someone else, one who will not die and leave you to go on forever. You are a star. I am only human."
Aria began to cry, because she knew its painful truth. He would die someday. "I will never, never love another! Not how I love you. You must believe me! After all we’ve been through- time and time again we thought we’d lost each other. Now we’re finally together. We cannot be parted now! You must come!"
"Aria, I can’t!" he shouted.
Aria winced, pulling away.
Gilligan breathed in. "Aria, here," he whispered, taking her hands again. He slid the rings off their fingers and placed them gently in her hands. "I release you from your promise," he whispered, feeling as though his heart would be wrenched in two.
Aria’s world was crumbling down around her, so soon after it had finally been reconstructed. Those words had released an arrow to pierce her heart, and now it was in shatters. She ripped her hands from his, letting the rings fall to the floor with a cold clatter, and fled to her room. Sobbing, she threw herself down on her bed, and there Noonstar found her later, having cried herself to sleep.
****
She woke calmer, but so full of pain that she could do little more than lie around, listless. She could not think about Gilligan for the sorrow it brought, yet at the same time she couldn’t keep her mind away from thoughts of him. She barely spoke two words together, and left her room but twice, only to return and lie on the bed, staring at the ceiling with almost no thought or emotion.
The first time she left the room, she wandered the castle speechlessly. She did not meet Gilligan, but whether this was fortunate or unfortunate I do not know. Once she walked unseen in a bright, lonely garden, and saw Wynd and Raphael hand in hand, talking.
"I cannot fly," Wynd was saying. They were the first words Aria had heard her speak since her wings had burned.
Even those simple words made Aria’s heart ache. It was for the very same reason that she and Gilligan would never marry.
"Then I shall be your wings, if you will allow it," Raphael replied, putting his hand to her cheek.
The fairy smiled, for the first time since Torlith had taken her flight away.
Then Aria realized that this was not her conversation, so she left. She silently wished Wynd every happiness, yet envied her.
The second time she left was to eat, but she barely touched her food. Everyone noticed, but Noonstar was the only one who dared to search out the reason. Finally, after some digging, he got Gilligan to tell him what had happened.
He thought and thought, but there seemed no solution. They were both doomed to die of broken hearts, it seemed. Then he thought of his daughter, and the choice she had made.
And finally, he knew what to do- what he must do- for his granddaughter.
****
He called Aria and Gilligan. Aria turned her face away quickly when she saw Gilligan with her grandfather, and Gilligan looked as though a sword was plunged into his heart.
Noonstar hesitated. Was it too late to pretend he had never called them? But a heart of courage was beating in his chest, and he drew Aria aside.
"Aria, whatever happens to me next, you must know I did it for you," he said in an undertone. "Promise me this- after it’s over, you’ll go to Celestia as quickly as you can. They’ll know you- every star knows their queen by instinct."
"I never promise anything when I’m confused," she said. Tell me plainly what you mean, her eyes asked.
Noonstar smiled wanly. "Promise me anyway, that you will go to Celestia."
She sighed. "I promise."
"Gilligan, come here," Noonstar said.
Aria knew the look on her grandfather’s face. It had been in a vision. A long-ago vision, but she couldn’t remember where. Quickly, she reached out and touched his shoulder. "Grandfather, what-"
"Hush, Aria!" said Noonstar.
The Starking laid a hand on Gilligan’s shoulder. Noonstar’s eyes shut tightly, and his grip intensified. His light raced into one place- he could feel it gathering in his chest. Then it went out, into Gilligan.
Gilligan into the air, golden light changing his countenance from puzzled to exhilarated. He had no idea of what was going on, but he could feel it inside him, urging him to sing, to fly, to glow.
Aria shot up next to him, embracing as they rose higher. "Oh, Gill- you’re a star! You’re a star!"
Then she saw her grandfather.
When Cera had traded her race, she hadn’t looked old, just older. Noonstar looked ancient. Aria hardly recognized him as the strong, young-faced, wise-eyed Starking that had greeted her as kin. He looked centuries old, or more. No human, which was what he was now, could live that long.
She was immediately at his side, her joy vanquished, as dim and grey as ashes. The Starking lay on the floor in a heap. "Gilligan, I think he’s dying!" she cried in anguish.
Gilligan fell out of the air as though dragged down.
Noonstar looked up at Aria. "It was the best… I could do. I hope… trading my race…"
His breath was short.
"Gilligan is a star now. He can… go with you… I’m just sorry… I won’t see… your… coronation."
A tear dropped from Aria’s face onto his now wrinkled cheek.
He raised his hand and wiped away her tears.
"Your eyes are so much like Cera’s… so much," he whispered.
Then his hand dropped away, and his eyes closed.
Aria buried her head on Gilligan’s shoulder, and he stroked her dark hair as she cried.