Morning Star (The Dragon Prince X Reader)

Chapter 12 - Moon

It's actually harder to focus with your eyes closed.

Maybe you're tired; Startouch elves like yourself need to sleep, even if not every day. And readjusting to the real world after so many years in that bleak mirror has made you more fatigued than you'd usually be.

Well, there is nothing in the definition of contemplation that means you can't look around at the same time. And you're sitting in front of the Moon Nexus itself right now - the most relevant view possible. You open your eyes.

The lake glows with the moon's light, reflected perfectly in the still water. It can almost imitate day, illuminating the fine details of your viewing platform and the green moss in every tiny crack. There's a sense of calmness and serenity rarely found outside sleep. It's as if you could jump through the lake without leaving a ripple and land in a different world entirely.

You can feel why so many people were drawn to this place. It hums with peace, beauty, magic. You can imagine how hard it was to destroy the old settlement here, and the intricate work that amplified and enhanced the power of the Moon Nexus. The reflections of a reflection of a reflection of the sun. It's beautiful still.

You were always more attached to the stars, distant and indifferent though they are. The moon, though - the moon has always been close to you. Helpful, although you've never understood it. Always reliable, as long as you know the pattern. You can respect that.

You lean forward. You're closer to the water than most of the Nexus's viewing platforms allow, which means you can clearly see your reflection. Perhaps you'd think that after three hundred years of literally being inside a mirror you would have no new thoughts on it, but you do.

Your eyes have definitely changed - where they had dark sclera barely more than a day ago, they're now a muted gold. You aren't sure, but you think they're glowing, along with the sparks on your skin and the lines running through your curved horns. The mark on your chest is well revealed by the open top buttons of your blouse. It's glowing again, though the patch in the centre is still duller than the rest. Your neck still looks like it's missing something, even after three centuries without your necklace.

Suddenly, you remember what Lujanne said about perception. It has merit, you think. You're just seeing the new things; the differences. What do other people see?

The only Startouch elf on the planet; something to be feared. An ancient woman wielding power that few have heard of, willing to strike down anyone she believes she has to.

A genius, capable of surprising anybody. Someone who would travel the entire world just to see what was out there, yet always remember those awaiting her return. Someone to be appreciated, whose flaws only make her better.

A girl from a place that no longer exists, who's even now a little out of her depth. A Startouch elf, antithetical to her own kind; relying on illusions to retain her anonymity, then finally revealing herself just to craft the biggest lie of them all.

All three perspectives, and many others, are true. They contradict, but they can co-exist. They all reflect whatever the "reality" of you is, just filtered through the observer's perspective. As you know better than almost anyone, humans are defined by their connections. The way people see you, and the way you see yourself, are all true - just true in different ways.

You can never fully know the "reality" of yourself, though, or of anything else. That's the sacrifice you make by thinking. It's only possible, only true, to know what you perceive. Reality will always lie beyond the reach of that perception, because you have to filter reality through that perception in order to perceive it at all.

Alright. So, illusion magic. Lujanne practically spoon-fed the knowledge to you; you just need to wrap your head around it.

Suggestions from others can influence your perception. They can influence how you experience reality. Illusions are a stronger form of that suggestion; a projection of how the caster wants you to experience reality.