Recorded by Finnegan Lionhartt,
Of magical events which took place between the 14th-21st of Radia, year of Pinnikle: 1,216.

"Daring things are accomplished in daunting times, making me into the stuff of stories that may never be told to many, but only to the few who are deemed worthy."

— Words from a magic bed-time story book mother would read from.

After a night of fond dreams, I woke up to the sound of gentle wind. The sun peeked through the little hut and I stretched, covering my eyes. As I wriggled about, I heard the crumpling of a note tucked under me.

"Sophie," I called out to my sister.

"Wh- whaaaat!?" She said through a yawn as she woke.

"Mom n' dad left us a letter! Maybe it will tell us last night was only a wild dream!"

She crawled out of her bed, scuffled over to crawl on my mine, and leaned on me. I read the letter to her:

"The outside says, 'procured from the forest by Jack - these are your parent's last thoughts. I penned them for you, because I felt you should have them,'".

A tear dropped from my eye, and I open the tri-fold letter to continued reading:

Finnegan & Sophia Lionhart,

Beautiful children, we've gone to a place we cannot come back from... Do these things with all your might: guard your bravery, be captivated by every small thing that stirs gratitude, and never, ever cease to love. We love you. Even though we've had to be leaving, you'll find that when you close your eyes on a starry night - that's every night - we'll be there.
P.S. Don't forget about the hourglass.
— Jack

I looked about our little hut, lit by rays of sunlight through the stick walls. Untidy stardust and strange fine sand was scattered all about the place! My eyes were drawn to the hourglass on its side by Sophie's bed. She had already been staring at it since the "P.S." of Jack's letter.

"Big brother... do you think it still works?" she asked.

"We'll try it," I replied.

The two of us slipped off my bed, and sat on the floor beside the hourglass. I turned it, and... nothing. Sophie tried as well, and there was no apparition of our parents. The sandman had only left us alone with a paper weight (the hourglass) and a mess of sand which had dusted off his body!

Sophie and I began to feel burdens no one should carry, especially not children. We were alone. There was no giant guardian star at the door, and Tryn was nowhere to be found. The sandman was not there to cheer us up or explain what to do next. We had been abandoned.

Overwhelmed by sorrow, we began to cry. I shed the first tear, not knowing how to hold in such sorrow. Then Sophie leaned into my chest, and wailed. For a long week, we stayed  in our parent's home and grieved. The village hadn't the slightest idea that our parents had gone missing. Meanwhile,  every other inhabitant of Luca celebrated the quick coming and ceasing of nightmares with music, dancing and feasting! All the while, my sweet sister and I wept and began to wither. We did not have food. Even if we had: we were not in the right mind to feed ourselves.

After a week of going on like this, I woke up early one morning before dawn to find Sophie on the ground... She was hardly breathing. Her eyes were closed, and she was weak. I nudged her shoulder, and lifted her little wrist, but it just fell on the floor where she lay. My sister was dying! Though some believe it was starvation, I perceived it as certainty that Sophie was dying of a broken heart. Love is a thing meant to be cherished always: When it is suddenly gone, even the bravest are left to wither - let alone children.

My heart raced, and I was quickly filled with adrenaline! I wished it had all been a dream! I closed my eyes and pinched myself... But to no avail: Everything was real. I scooped up frail little Sophie, and ran down from our hut into the heart of Luca. There were many other dwellings there. I ran through the village, and in my grasp: Sophie's legs dangled and her head bobbed over my shoulder.

Once I was in the thick of homes along the river, I kicked on doors and caused a ruckus through the very early morning! Villagers were upset. One of them yelled out from their door, "Quiet little boy! And go home to your parents!"

In the center of town, by a bridge, I fell to my knees and said softly, "M-My parents are dead..."

I broke down and screamed in desperation, "Somebody help my sister! Anybody! Please!"

Nobody helped. I became hopeless, and lost my strength because of it. With my vigor gone, I choked out a quivering mere whisper, begging: "Please... She's gonna die too..."

It is said that every nix in Luca village heard my plea: the defeated whisper of a seven year old boy. It was a sound of my commitment to Sophie - a raging small sound against all that death would steal away and keep. Every villager came out of their huts, and gathered round - hundreds of them. What they saw next would forever change all accounted for.

Weak from hopelessness and hunger, life faded from me. In one last loving act, I turned toward the villagers and mustered all my grit to hold Sophie up, offering her up to anyone who would help.

I begged again, "Please... somebody take her..."

Nobody came. As I held out Sophie, the sight of the crowd around me turned black. I attempted to say, "I'm not gonna make it much longer either," but instead fell face first into the sand, still breathing but unconscious.

I felt Sophie tumble away from me, toward the river. It would have taken her, but fortunately she was stopped by a bridge post before being carried away in the current. Still, no one stepped forward to help. I became nearly unconscious, but I held on to listen for something hopeful - for any helper that may come to our rescue.

In the place where aid should have been, I only heard mutual gasps of guilt from those around. Their guilt held them where they stood. Guilt keeps a nix from many good things. It is only another form of Fear, and the villagers did not know how to move past such a feeling. I knew then: The monster my parents had banished was not gone. It was prowling out in the woods unnoticed - paralyzing all with terror, masked as guilt.

At that precise moment, something very strange happened. Honestly, I don't remember much of what followed after my collapse. I heard the account later, and it went something like this: A pretty little star, veiled in light, was skimming over the river. She flew right into the strange scene. It was Tryn, who came every morning from End's drop - where the river falls to Plummet Valley.

The star saw everyone standing back from Sophie and I, and stopped for a moment as all eyes turned to her. Once she saw us children, Tryn floated out from her path to the shore, and came to the place where Sophie lay, lifeless. The star hovered over my sister, and put a bright hand to the rail of the bridge, then looked down to Sophie.

Her like diamonds burst out: "Lumin! Come now!"

With a blast of bright purple light that lit up the sky, a massive dark star crashed down to the river bank by Tryn's side. The impact threw a cloud of sand over us and the onlookers. He stood from the crater he had made, and was cloaked in deep purple light. Though his form was veiled in glowing brilliance, Lumin's towering height could still be observed plainly: tall as three nix, and strong like some warrior. Villagers gawked in awe of his sight, and his gaze pierced right back at them.

Tryn instructed him: "These children are dying, and the villagers have done nothing! You take the boy. We will take them to Lofi."

Lumin took a step toward me, and gently lifted me to his chest. I was almost gone, and was listless. His big arms held me carefully, and I began to sleep as he stood slowly, then hovered over the sand. He waited for Tryn to take up Sophie.

Every onlooker will tell you: That night will never be forgotten, because of what came next: Tryn touched down to the shore beside Sophie - sweet little Sophie. As the star reached for her, she coughed, then took in one quivering breath. She let it out after a short moment. It was her last. Sophie had died.

Glinting liquid diamonds fell from the star's cheek, onto Sophie's chest. Tryn's tears continued to come, as she scooped up Sophie's still-warm body. Some tears fell, and others floated around the star, defying gravity. Tryn began to ascend over the bridge with care, cradling Sophie to her chest - her little head lay over Tryn's shoulder. Lumin rose to his companion's side with me in his arms, and they looked upon the villagers of Luca in disdain.

Those gathered round stood with mouths covered. Children peeked from behind their parents, and the sun rose to shine it's first rays on the stars, who held Sophie and I. Dawn's light uncovered the bright veils which had been shrouding the stars, revealing their skin and clothing.

Under Tryn's glow was skin like white diamonds. Her eyes were like a nix, but colored in many ways around the pupil.  Her thin eyebrows and hair showed silver, shining glints of soft color. Her hair: short around the sides and back, and messy on top from flying. Tryn had one piece of clothing: like shorts and a t-shirt, but woven together modestly. Her clothing waved with a bright color, like living auroras dancing about.

Lumin was truly a towering giant. Beneath his purple glow was skin like emerald toned diamonds. His eyes were colored in many blue tones, and his brows glistened many dark colors. Lumin had no hair, and curvy muscles defined his form. His clothing was similar to Tryn's, except darker. It was one piece, sleeveless, and came down to his calves; fitting just tightly enough to show his masculine form. His clothing shined in moving colors also, but deep dark colors - like glowing purples, and blues - and a glimmering black shined from it too. Lumin was dark, but so very safe - so very warm. I can attest to that myself.

Lumun's voice boomed over the awe-struck Villagers, "Trynity, we need to go now!"

The sound of his voice blew sand over the villagers, and knocked many of them to the ground.

Tryn looked with fury over all. She shouted, "Nix of Pinnikle: Never allow this to happen again! Your inability to act has led to the death of the innocent. Perhaps one day you will be forgiven. But it is not this day."

In blasts of light and dark arrays of color, they bolted down the winding river toward Plummet valley. The stars left, but Tryn's tears remained where she had been - floating tears - beside the railing Sophie was taken from. Villagers were left to ponder their omission. Not often does one see a star so close. Even more rare: the sight of glistening tears in daylight. They shone like liquid crystals in the dawn, until they dissipated.