Starfall

Chapter 9 - Elyse

In the span of twenty-four hours, I've crashed my ship, spent the night in a Doxem shrine, hitched a ride on an unfamiliar ship to Culmes, almost took a commercial flight—and now I've met a strange, young man who gave me a new ship free of cost.

What I mean is this: it's been a long day.

If I knew yesterday what I'd be doing today, I probably wouldn't believe it. Because, see, I've always been on the path to the Isthmus. From the moment I was born, it was already determined that I would make it to the Isthmus of the Sky—to the mystical bridge of dreams.

I've always known I was going to get to Starfall. But I never knew the time would come so soon.

I don't know if I'm ready.

Whether or not I'm prepared, it doesn't matter. This is how it is, how I need it to be. How I want it to be.

So now, as we glide through the Gap in newborn shared silence, with my hands on the helm and my crew peacefully beside me, I listen to the faint echo of my grandmother's voice in the passing wind.

Doxemity isn't just a belief, Elyse. It's a window into the things we can never attain in this life. It's simply a doorway leading to your greatest desires, and you are the only one that can unlock that door.

I can practically feel the gentle touch of her palm on my forehead and the soft wrinkles of her smile in her voice.

I bet there's lots of sunshine behind my door, I'd tell her. And an ocean. But not an angry one—a peaceful ocean that wraps you up in warm hugs.

And in her eyes would be the glow of our past and our unforgettable future, and there would be nothing more for me to do than imagine.

My mother would be there, I'd say in my bubble of ignorant bliss. She'd be alive and there to give me lots of hugs and kisses, and she could tell me stories. Like you do, Grandma!

And I'd keep talking, keep feeling, keep thinking, and I would never notice how my grandmother's gaze would fall into something melancholy and lost.

Such a wonderful thing it was, being a child in the care of my grandma. No additional requirements in order to exist, no laws to follow or regulations to meet. Just me and my grandmother.

I started with one small family, and now I have another that's just as important.

Not counting Ben, of course.

Yet.

I've only ever been to Parlem City two times in my life, but Leola and Kamal were only with me on the second trip. Both visits were a long while ago, and neither of them were pleasant in any way.

So when Ben asks me, "What's it like up there?" all I can respond with is, "Cold."

From what I've heard, the Parlemity Mountains never warm. Even in the midst of hot, windy summers, the temperature doesn't climb any higher than the fifties.

"How many times have you been there?" Ben asks no one in particular.

Kamal's the one to pipe up. "Once."

A rather tense moment pushes between the four of us. Ben must not like it, because he says, "Based off all these one-word answers here, I'm assuming Parlem City is not a nice place." Out of my peripheral vision, I see him shake his head. "It can't be worse than Culmes, so I'm not too worried."

"Oh, it's plenty nice," Leola corrects quickly. "They have great soup. Good soup places."

"Then why does no one like it?" He throws his hands up. Then, before any of us can tell him, he says, "And don't say it's because it's secluded and there are plenty of dangerous cliffs. That can't be all it is."