There had always been a part of Astana that has always longed to leave her desert home behind and run until she can no longer feel her legs or see her home on the horizon. Since birth, there has been the nagging feeling in her heart that she doesn't actually belong here, that Astana was meant to roam this earth only by starlight and hanging on the edges of dreams, and perhaps some day she will. Some long nights ago, the golden little girl stood at the edge of just such a place, staring into the dark face of surreal oblivion, and found that if she could just force herself to take that one step, it could swallow her and welcome the dreamer girl into its broken arms. Astana wants this more than anything, to exist wholly in the world of dreams where is no mortal clock ticking away the seconds she has to live, and yet she would not give up this place, a place where she has family and friends, and new friends in the making, for anything. But then, Astana is young still and does not know many things about this world, though she hopes that someday all if not most of it will become clear. Already she knows so much, perhaps more than a child ought to know. She knows she has an older sister, she knows the magnificent world of her mother’s dreams and the longing in her father’s heart to share them with her, and she knows her twin sister, the star creator. The girl created of pale gold does not understand or apply tact, can barely even control her insatiable curiosity most of the time, but she remains silent as the mare simply stares down at her with subtle expression to small to read. She smiles, still, because how can she not smile when such a bold adventure now presents itself to her? She grins that same reckless grin her mother has always had since she was her age. It hangs on her pale face, pretty as always. She doesn't think, in this moment, that she is lost, Astana believes she is exactly where she is supposed to be, even if that could not be further from the truth. If she is lost, well, then that was the start to this grand big adventure. She ought to be back home, in the desert, with her mother and her father and her twin sister. But, for now, she just keeps staring up at the mare with those eyes made of diamonds, catching and twirling whatever light it can find. “Thank you,” her voice a glassy lullaby. She feels the mare toucher forehead and those diamond eyes close, falling dark beneath those long, dark lashes. “I think so,” Astana offers, her voice holding nothing more than mild curiosity for her situation at hand. “I am quite far from home, I’m from the desert,” she adds, as if the mare will know exactly where she used to live. “I am Astana,” she says, and it begins. She may never be a warrior or even a scholar (she hardly shows any potential attention span, you know) or anything of any importance, but Astana will never mind because she is free, and that's all she'll ever want. Astana has no idea what is awaiting her.
underground, the stars are legend |
@[Heartfire]