Strange Place: 3rd Stop

The StarMaker
When the Gods still walked among us, there was Father Time, who had ever been and is. Many would know him as that which was Fate.

In the void of darkness he drifted until there came the light. Soft twinkling left in the wake of the Starmaker's merriment.

The world would be born and in the Earth the goddess lay, her admirers the sun and moon both would encircle her in their great arcing paths across the sky.

The wind too would traverse the land and sky with its gaiety.

But as Time wore on, and the world settled, did the Starmaker wonder.

All were born with a voice.

How he wanted to join them.

The stars were a mystifying twinkle, a hope, a beacon and a wish, a guide to the men of the sea, and those who had lost their path alike.

They brought the quiet and tranquility of nightly peace. It was a Time of rest.

Wishes were his gift, a heartfelt desire of his, that would come to pass.

Such was how he granted wishes, when the Heart's Song would sing in synchronized harmony, would their wish become his.

A sad thing then, that he could not grant himself the one thing he desired. No matter how fervently he wished, the air remained still.

For he was not the wind of soft laughter and fierce howls. He was not the sea, ever grumbling and roaring.

He was not Time, marked in both passing and coming.

And such was what, upon their meeting that Time would chastise him with.

It was not his place to speak.

The Starmaker wept, and the rains were relentless and ceaseless.

For the pain of "never" being able to truly touch those whom he watched over was too much to bear.

Their lives were finite, and he would watch them pass without ever truly touching them, nor providing the support and fellowship he so desired. Even as they looked to the stars. And the sad day when they would one day go over them.

Certainly, he was forever there, but never would he be able to touch them, ever a faraway sentinel in the sky, out of reach by mortal means.

As he settled on his bed of clouds did he wish for a means to an end.

Anguished that he would forever be unable to communicate with the beloved souls he so guided, he wished for apathy.

If he could not connect, could not feel. An end to his suffering in watching their passing.

But in apathy he would feel nothing. Not the carefree flight of the merry Heart by which Stars are created, not the heartfelt desire necessitated by a Wish to come and pass.

Purpose lost, the Starmaker was fading.

The stars slowly blinked out. Diminished.

Without their master from which to draw light, and whomto breath unto them new life, did their twinkling vanish from the nightscape.

Sweet Luna noted their disappearance, the odd lack of the presence of their celestial lord.

And when word reached Father Time, and the Starmaker failed to heed his summon, did he come to him, to find him complacent and unable to create the stars that had so mesmerized many.

There was no need to do anything. And the Starmaker was content.

But he would force the Starmaker to come along, and they would find the box which held the precious Heart of the Celestial Lord.

But when they find it, it would prove a locked box with neither lock nor key.

Yet it wouldn't, like all that is, withstand the test of Time.

Restored, was the Starmaker.

And things returned to normality.

The Starmaker would remain mute.

But every once in a while, would he find Time.

Time for what? A question he oft pondered.

But the Endless Sovereign would simply accompany him.

For the Starmaker's own wellbeing. Or so he claimed, yet the Starmaker knew better.

The loneliness he felt amongst the stars faded, and the stars twinkled brighter with his warmth.

Merry Chase
She didn't know what she was searching for. All she knew, was that she had to find it.

It wasn't that she was created with a purpose, nor did she desire one.

Yet when she found herself with all she desired, a quaint cottage home, the forest to explore, the warm neighbors who were ever there with arms open should she find herself in need.

Yet something was missing.

Was it a romantic partner?

But she felt at peace. She sought no such attention when she had not the passion nor desire.

She searches the stars, for a sign.

A coward's path, perhaps, but she had not the Heart to leave all and depart of some grand, romanticised, life-changing, adventure.

And then she remembered.

Where was Tabby? Where was the ratty old tabby cat she had so loved, and how could she forget something so precious?

It is an insidious fog that slowly blankets the mind, shrouding all within till clarity was but the faint and flickering beam of a lighthouse. Singular, and but distant.

Someone was stealing their memories.

Taking away that which was most precious to them.

She was by no means of stalwart Heart.

But she intended to get her ratty Tabby back.

No matter where the path ahead would take her, nor how far a cry it would be from the comfort of the home and life she held so dear.

The Blood Price
Nothing comes without a price.

There is no such thing, as "free".

And none could've known better than the Eternally sleeping child.

Nothing except that which came from her.

She didn't​ expect anything. Not a 'thank you' nor acknowledgement. It wasn't for a gain, or as a member of some collective whole.

But it didn't stop her from wanting.