The Ballad of the Ruined Lovers

The quiet boy had turned into something more. The blood of his family still stained his soul, the betrayal of his love still pierced his heart. He had climbed down those skeleton steps and vowed to find vengeance. He wept when the wicked boy was thrown into the Pit, caught barely three moons after the murder. But it was not enough for him.

He had to make sure the wicked boy would never run free. He prayed the names of his parents, then set about on his mission. The fortress in the mountain welcomed his anger. He fought for the only job he ever wanted. He befriended the girl as smart as a snake, he won what he wanted. He told himself that the Pit would be paradise, as soon as he saw the wicked boy in his chains.

In the carriage which took them from the mountains, to the prison, he and his most trusted friend, sat in solemn silence. For many, many moons, they had fought by each other's side. He would not have survived Youngstone without her. He watched, as she twirled a loose strand of hair around her finger. Her eyes were in another world.

"What will be your first order?" she asked, her voice soft as could be.

He contemplated the question. It was something he would have to balance with ease. He had been told that the prison was a game, that one must learn the rules...and then they could know how to properly cheat. He chewed on his lip.

"I do not know," he said. "Who do you hate the most?"

"I know nothing of the prisoners. I have no vendetta against anyone, " she paused. "Perhaps it would make things easier."

He shrugged. He knew who he hated most. How he would save the wicked boy. Make him suffer for as long as it took. Then...then he would set the Viper upon him. But it would take time. The quiet boy looked out the carriage window and counted the stars.

The Pit of Pirn was composed of many levels. The first sat just below the surface, an endless labyrinth of elegant studies and apartments, where they would live. Several levels below this lavish life, lay the prison itself. There were no words to describe the despair of this place.

The first chance he had, he slipped down to the monsters he now ruled. He snapped at the guards to stay behind. He pulled on his gloves, smoothed back his hair, and unlocked the cell.

The child was said to be hungry. The dogs were said to be insane. The wounded tongue was said to be feverish. Every prisoner had its mark, its trick, its charm. Before the cell door swung open, the quiet boy bowed his head, remembering the whispered kisses and sweet smiles. The golden skin, so pale against his own, the gasps in their coveted darkness, the lacing of fingers.

He opened the door and stepped inside. One light embedded in the ceiling, guarded by poisoned glass, shone down. The wicked boy sat on his crumbling cot, shirtless and gaunt and wild. The quiet boy, despite all of his anger and hatred, sucked in a breath.

His grey eyes narrowed. For a moment, nothing but silence stretched between them.

"Hello, my love," the wicked boy rasped. "Finally come to visit?"

"I've come to ruin you."

"You have worked all this way, just to see a broken man suffer more," Weariness tinged his voice. "Leave me be. The Vasser will not be pleased to know his new guard has come in-"

"He is dead," his lips lifted. "Dead and replaced."

The fear that passed over the wicked boy's face was the time spent vying for this torture.

"No," he whispered.

"Yes."

"This is not possible. There is no possible way that you are..that you-"

"It is true," the Vasser said. "I will watch you wither and wilt," he stepped forward, placing a gloved finger under a trembling chin. He jerked those grey eyes up to meet his own gaze. "Anguish will look so beautiful on you, my dearest Rhapsody."

~

The air grew colder and colder as Zez crept towards the Stargazer, despite the massive bowls of blue fire dotted around the room. The mysterious woman was still draped across her divan, her gown tangling around herself, as rings of sweet smoke moved slowly.

"Join me," the Stargazer's words echoed around the room. Zez shivered. "Sit, sit, and tell me who you are. Who you were. Who you shall be."

As Zez approached her, smoke curled around her ankles, sending that bizarre burning sensation through her. She was pulled forward, barely walking on her own, and breathed in the addictive, woozy scent of the strange magic. The Stargazer pushed herself up, crossing her legs, and swaying back and forth, only slightly.

Zez sat beside her, on the edge of the divan, and tried to focus on what was happening. For someone who had never dabbled in these sorts of intoxicants, her head felt as though it was swimming. She ran a hand through her hair, tousling the short waves.

"Face me, Imogen Zezinger of the Other World," the Stargazer commanded. "And speak of yourself."

Zez clumsily adjusted herself, so she crossed her own legs and faced the beautiful woman. Those blues eyes sent chills down her spine and tingles through her fingertips. 

"Focus," the Stargazer said. "I welcome all with open arms, but only once, so you must speak clear and true. Who are you?"

"I am Zez," she said. "I was brought here, by a snake. By a woman. We are on a mission to hunt a monster or two down, and then I can go home-"

"The stars see all," the woman interrupted. "And I see all of the stars. I know you speak nothing but lies."

"I'm not lying," Zez said.

"Imogen Zezinger," she said. "You have come for starshine, on behalf of Zanya Selstonia, have you not? You must not riddle with yourself."

"But," she paused. "I honestly, my lady, I do not know what starshine really is. No one really explains anything."

"Of course they do not," the Stargazer said. "Starshine is used for healing. It is used for death. It is used for the Umber."

"The Umber-"

"Is the place beyond the looking glass," she said. The flames around them flickered higher, shooting towards the open sky. "It is the place seen only in dreams. It is reality and it is not. It is only accessible if one," she leaned forward, and with one finger, traced Zez's lips. "If one paints the sacred starshine across their lips."

"Oh," Zez raised an eyebrow, as the Stargazer sat back.

"Starshine is made of memory," she said. "You may also travel through worlds. Through this world, it will get one from a location to another, in the blink of an eye. You can dance with death and dreams, and tiptoe to the edge of all in between. If you want your dose of starshine, I must take your memories."

This sounded like a very alarming thing. Zez fidgeted. She didn't want this woman rummaging around in her head. She didn't want to be a little blue light, floating around, lost to the stones. The Stargazer tilted her head back, and laughter whispered across the room.

"I shall not steal them from you," she explained. "We shall simply share them. One from your past. One from this moment. And one from your future."

~

The feeling of memory was a strange one for Zez. The Stargazer's fingers lingered on her temples, tinged with smoke and dust, and then the world began to fall apart. Cracks and breaks, as her eyes fluttered shut. She sank deep, deep into the cushions of the divan, with the Stargazer murmuring words of ancient languages and rhythmic prayers.

As her vision became shrouded in mist, Zez could hear sounds. She closed her eyes and in the hazy cloud of the once real, she saw her parents. Standing in the kitchen of her childhood home, arguing with one another. She saw the flash of her father's watch. The sharpness of her mother's nails. They were gesturing, wildly, and their words began to fill with venom.

Zez saw herself, just a child, crouched at the bottom of the stairs. Her long, dark hair hung in her face, her nightgown decorated with some cartoon character. She gnawed on her nails, trying to both hear and stay silent.

The older Zez watched through the haze, her heart sinking all the while. She saw her father storm out of the kitchen. He stopped when he saw her, knees pulled to her chest. Both the old and young Zez flinched.

"Useless," her father seethed. "That's what you are."

They never spoke of that night. Her father had left, then came back days later, and life carried on as normal. Zez had buried those words so deeply within her. The fighting never stopped, but she learned to tune it out. No blows were ever exchanged, but the words left bruises on both her and her mother, and...and...

Zez gasped, emerging from the memory. The Stargazer was staring at her, vibrant blue eyes glowing, and a frown tugging at her mouth. The memory floated in her right palm, a dim blue light.

"Your father is a cruel man," the Stargazer said.

"There are worse," Zez rubbed her eyes.

"Not to you," the Stargazer flicked her wrist and the light floated towards one of the bowls of fire. "You do not love him. You do not want him at your wedding. You do not want him near your children."

"I...I don't know," Zez said. Her throat felt like it was about to close. "I never really thought about it."

"No," she said. "But it is a part of you. It was, it is, and it will be. Now, it is time to move to the present. This is the most simple."

She waved her hand and smoke began twisting into a strange formation. She blew on it, and the smoke creation floated towards the fire. She surveyed it, watching it, and remained unblinking for its entire journey. Zez stared down at her hands.

Her father. She tried not to think about him. She wondered if her mother had called him, to tell him that their daughter had gone missing. He probably wouldn't care. She felt the urge to find him and shake him and scream that she was something. She was going to be a hero. She had a magical girlfriend (Zez swallowed as that word popped into her head), she was cavorting with mysterious creatures, she was...she was not useless.

"And the last ingredient," the Stargazer said. "Is what has not yet occurred."

Zez glanced up. "How is that possible?"

One would think she would have learned by now to stop asking that question. Alas, it kept falling from her mouth. The Stargazer narrowed her gaze, the question sitting sour in the air, and merely learned over. Her fingers brushed over Zez's temples, and the murmuring began once more. Zez fell backwards again, this time the haze much blurrier and thicker and more difficult to wade through.

This time, it was different. She was not viewing it through a different lens. She could not see herself. She looked down and saw the hazy outline of her hands. Zez blinked, as her head swam with confusion. Then, a pair of arms circled around her waist. Dark fingers laced through her own , pulling Zez into an intimate embrace.

She could not tell where they were. She wanted to turn and face Zanya, but she could not. It appeared that they were someplace dark, the air was cool, a voice was whispering in her ear. She sighed, tilting her head back. Lips traced the curve of her neck. She struggled a bit, though it felt so nice, and she only had a vague idea as to why she was resisting.

"Unhand her," someone commanded, the distant sound cutting through the foggy future.

Zez froze.

The command was Zanya's.

"Why should I?" the embrace tightened. "She is not yours."

Zez gasped and spun back into reality, flying upwards. The Stargazer lay a hand on her chest, while the other maneuvered the glowing light of the memory. Zez tried to collect her breath, her fingers trembling, and she could feel sweat dripping down her forehead.

"The future is always the most difficult," the Stargazer murmured. "It is never easy to see."

"Who was that?" Zez croaked. "You have to warn me!"

"No," the Stargazer said. "I cannot."

She swept off the divan, her gown trailing behind her. Zez wiped her brow as the Stargazer wandered over to the big bowls of fire and began chanting. Starlight poured down from the open ceiling, and flames flickered and danced, but Zez could not pay them any attention.

Her hand went to her neck, where the kisses had been laid. She could almost feel them, and it made her stomach twist. She had a horrible feeling about who had held her in that embrace.

"Stargazer," she said. "You have to tell me. I have to warn Zanya, I have-"

"You shall do nothing of the sort," the Stargazer turned around, eyes blazing. "That is a secret until it occurs. If you speak of it, your tongue shall fall from your mouth. It is you and yours, Imogen Zezinger, until it is shared in its true form."

"But," she whimpered. "But I know that must be the Vass-"

"Speak less," the Stargazer said. "At least speak less of things that will get you in trouble. You are a silly girl, but you have potential to be wise. You will be...yet," she paused. "I have said too much. Take your starshine and be on your way, girl."

With that, she slunk off, towards the dark corners of her temple. Her gown seemed to shift into something grander, as she disappeared. Zez shot up off the divan.

"Wait!" she said, stomping her foot. "What do I do?"

"If you wish to go near, take from the left side," the Stargazer said, over her shoulder. "If you wish to go far, take from the right side."

With that, she completely vanished into the shadows, and all of the starlight disappeared with her. Zez stumbled by the light of the moon to the bowl. She stood on her tip-toes, wobbling slightly, and peered inside. The flames had all disappeared, leaving only a shimmery trace of dust. She gently scooped some with her pinkie finger.

"Pixie dust," she murmured.

If one counted all the times Zez was wrong about something, the story would simply go on forever. Let us not mention how this girl tasted the dust. Let us not mention how she completely forgot the Stargazer's instructions, and simply scooped up all the starshine. With clumsy care, she opened the locket that Zanya had placed around her throat, and shoved as much as possible in there.

The rest of this part was not important. Zez shoved the rest of her starshine into the vial in which Zanya provided. She pulled a still shivering Esphina out of the stone room. They wandered out of the Temple, in silence, living with what they had both seen. 

--

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Quite a lot of stuff to unpack! 

Someone on Instagram asked why the Stargazer deals in memories. Mostly, as a plot device, but also because the Blue Caterpillar in the original Wonderland story recites from memory...and I thought that was a fun tie in. Silly, but fun for me. :D

Note: the meme was made by the amazing @Trivial_Universe.

Anyway, let me know your thoughts! Thank you so much for reading!