Sitara stared at the picture in front of her. Her eyes were wide and filled with shock, disbelief, and troubled emotions. She blinked and tried to choke down the lump in her throat but could not. It was as if they were sinking into this hellfire of a night she hadn't experienced, but which lay so figuratively scattered on the ground here. Strewn bodies among feathers, charred beads, rusty sabers, and scraps of clothing. All this time, they had not known what had happened here. How this place had been desecrated, and what had happened to the brave guardians of the island. Had they found peace? At some point? Somewhere?

The star could not tear herself away from the sight, though her vision blurred. With a rising sob, she hastily turned her face away so Peter wouldn't see the first telltale tear. The first of several that rolled down her cheeks for countless lives wiped out. She mourned for the lives that had faded away here. They were unimportant, fleeting ... erasing each other, and in the end, the stars in the sky only provided the playing field ... but they did not push the pieces on it, always just watching. Unlike the burden she had been to Peter so far, she did not want to appear weak, but the pain seized her unexpectedly, settled over her shoulders like a cloak of lead, and pressed her down.

"Sitara ..." Peter's voice was rough as he pulled her against him. Her nose bounced against his hard chest, and his arms wrapped around her shoulders to hold her close. He laid his hand over the glowing creature, whose light grew paler because an invisible dagger struck her wounds he could do nothing about. Peter gritted his teeth, but his burning hatred for the pirates could not have grown any greater.
He wanted to promise that he would make the pirates pay. But at the same time ... it had been his thirst for revenge that had brought this situation about in the very first place. That was why he kept silent, letting the little thing sob in his arms and only releasing her when the trembling of the delicate body had lessened.

Carefully he put his hands to the cheeks wet with tears as bright as porcelain. The beautiful gold of her irises appeared like a treasure under the clear waters of the mermaid lagoons. Tempting ... but foolish if he dared to reach for it. Then again, had Peter always been a fool?

"Please ... stop crying," he pleaded harshly, taking a deep breath, his thumbs wiping away the wet marks on his soft skin. "I can't bear to see you cry ..." he confessed softly. Slowly he leaned closer to rest his forehead gently against hers. "We're almost there..." he tried to cheer her up because the sight also made his heart ache and his stomach turn. She and him ... were more alike than they wanted to admit.

The boy who never wanted to grow up, whose revenge cost him everything, and who now, as punishment, had to live not only with the consequences but also with the change in himself. To be an adult.
And she, the fallen star, confronted for the first time with feelings that normally only mortals possessed.
Everything was new; everything changed. As if their old souls now had to endure the torrent of the floods that the dam of time had long kept away from them. But now everything was crashing down on them ... and all they both had was each other.

"Come. Let's go on. It's not far now; then everything will be all right," Peter promised the crying girl but couldn't entirely banish his despair from it. He had never been able to witness it when girls cried, and not that he had to see it often. Girls cried much faster than boys, and it had always bothered him. Wendy also wanted to avoid climbing the tall trees or tickling the bears in their den. As a 'mother,' this was understandable, but he had often been more sensitive about such things so far.

'Boring,' he had thought, snorting, with the Lost Boys having the adventures alone. The chief's daughter, Misi Wayta, rarely cried; she was very proud and cold. She seldom laughed, which had also bothered Peter. He was very meticulous in choosing his playmates. But the stars ... they had always listened intently and blinked excitedly when he told them the adventures. Now the star was crying in his arms, and Peter wanted to kill all the pirates responsible for the tears again.

'Maybe I can even do that soon,' he thought, frowning at Hook, who was walking the island again. Maybe so that Peter could kill him again. Possibly for such an evil villain, one death just wasn't enough. But he would send Hook to hell again when Neverland was back in order. And this time for good!

He squeezed Sitara's hand, which he had retaken in his. Sitara should realize that he would protect her. Better than Wendy, Michael, and John. Better than his boys and better than Neverland. This time he would get it right.
This thought spurred Peter on as he took the steps ahead. They skirted the dark patches on the floor and then kept in silent suspense towards the cracked door.
"Watch out," Peter warned, pushing up a rotten piece of wood with his arm so that Sitara could slip past him and inside without danger. Immediately he fell behind, almost knocking the star over because she had stopped rooted to the spot.

"Woah, Sitara, why do you stay - ?" Peter began, but then words failed him as well.

In front of them was a vast, cone-shaped cave. A spiral staircase cut into the mountain spiraled down the outer rim. But where the caves had been dark and lifeless, life seemed to pulsate in this place. Lichens, mosses, and plants had conquered the steep walls and colored them a lush green. Flowers adorned the countless leaves, setting bright blobs of every conceivable color between grey and green. On one wall, a small waterfall plunged into the lower part of the cave, putting a whitish mist of water into the air and brushing little drops onto the plants.

The most beautiful thing, however, was the moonlight that fell through a hole in the rock ceiling into the cave interior. As if it were a fall of silver shimmer, it made the whole cave glow, refracted in numerous tiny crystals that no doubt disappeared inconspicuously under petals and vegetation during the day. These additionally reflected the light and cast a spectacle of bright spots on the walls like a giant carpet of stars.

Sitara's eyelids lowered slightly as her fingers slid over the cave wall. Rustling, she pushed aside some ivy to reveal ancient drawings carved into the rock. Images and ancient writing that the short-lived souls of most worlds had long forgotten.

"What does it say?" asked Peter curiously, craning his neck to take the whole picture.

"It tells of the eternal battle of the Court of Night and the Court of Stars," Sitara said wistfully before withdrawing her fingers. "It pays homage to the fallen warriors ..." She nodded towards the crystals that caught the light. "They should represent the stars and illuminate the darkness of this place."

Carefully, she stepped beside Peter, and they both glanced over the edge of the stone steps into the depths. Embraced by moonlight, with the open sky above, a massive crystal shimmered up at them at the bottom.

"We have to go down," Sitara opened to her companion, unsurprised by this.

Usually, Peter would not have been told twice and would have simply flown down. But now it was not so easy. Tinkerbell was not here to help Sitara with fairy dust. Besides, he doubted anyway that the star would have possessed just enough happy thoughts to even hover in the fork of a relative after such a battlefield.

Peter's gaze slid scrutinizingly over the stairs, some parts of which had broken down or were already riddled with cracks from the earthquakes. It didn't look very safe, and large amounts had broken out of some sections, making it seemingly impossible to climb over. But they had no choice.

"I'm going to fly or climb down and see if there is still a star to be found," Peter said, setting his foot on the spiral staircase in the mountain rock.

Then Sitara grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Peter... wait! Look, there!"

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