


Sil'vine [⚪] .&&. Cheri [♀] .&&. Val'sept [⚪]
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There was a train station in the ocean, and on it stood a little girl of around twelve years.
Her name was Cheri; and she had blue eyes, dark blonde hair, and was fairly thin. She wore simple clothes, a blue tee-shirt and tan shorts. She also had on a pair of trainers, which were mud-stained white and submerged under the water, which went up to her ankles and throughly soaked her feet. But the sun was out, and it was warm, so she didn't mind very much.
In her left hand, which she balled very tightly in a fist, she held something that glowed and pulsated and tried to pry her fingers away for a better veiw. It was a star. And it was rather unhappy about being held so tightly, but Cheri was determined not to let it go for any reason. It was rude to loose something already lost, while on the way to returning it.
Cheri had found the star in her mother's garden. It had been fighting a loosing battle with gravity, nearly all burnt up, and hovering just above the tulips. It was exhausted- and so Cheri, being the kind girl that she was, plucked it from the air and brought it inside. Her mother had screamed when she saw it, bolted the doors and closed all windows, then held Cheri firmly by the shoulders to say, “
Cheri, listen to me. You have to return it back to the sky before anyone finds you.” She then went into the kitchen, pushed aside the cookie jar that Cheri was Never Supposed To Touch, retrieved a silver ticket, and pressed it discreetly into Cheri's free hand. “
You've touched stardust, and I'm so, so sorry, dear, but... You have to go to this train station, alone, and it's very far from here. All the way past the pier and out into the ocean. But don't worry. The light will keep you safe.
“There you'll take the only train that ever visits- it doesn't have a number, because it doesn't need one. But you'll know it when you see it. And then, after you get off again, I want you to go to the tallest house you can see and ask to speak with the Astronomer. Tell him you're my daughter; we know each other. He will take the star back from you, then.”
Her mother pushed her out the backdoor soon after; Cheri was almost certain she had seen tears on her mother's face before she slammed the door shut, iron bolt sliding into place. That was yesterday night, and so far Cheri had only eaten an apple for breakfast and had to sleep under a pine tree. She wasn't very happy with the way things were going so far, and hoped the Astronomer would just take the star back and let her go home soon.
She shuffled her muddy feet.
The sun was starting to set when the train finally pulled in, its body cutting the waters like a knife. It was slim, like a Shinkansen, but jet black and imposing. It was also entirely silent, aside from the waves it stirred. Cheri stood and sighed- she had adapted to sitting in the water after the first few hours had come and gone. Now her shorts and legs were soaked, and the air was starting to chill, but at least she would get to rest somewhere with actual seats now.
The doors slid open with a hiss, and, looking around a bit first, she stepped in.
There was no ticket-keeper aboard, which confused her- there wasn't
anyone aboard, it seemed. The driver was a skeleton and the passengers were made of clay, frozen statues of who they may have been. Cheri nearly jumped back out then and there, but the little star kicked her fingers, and she nervously fished out the silver ticket from her short's right pocket.
To her surprise, it began to cut itself up. And as the last of the thin strips fell from her fingers and onto the floor, the doors behind her snapped shut, and she was hurried away from them by an invisible hand.
Cheri was more than a little disturbed at this point, but quickly chose a seat farthest away from the clay people as she could get. She was soggy and hungry and
tired, but she was also smart, and didn't say anything aloud. Who was there to complain to? She just had to keep going, because there was certainly nothing useful in going back, and going forward was really her only option at this point.
She pulled her feet up onto the seat, and they made a rather undignified
squelch; so she undid the laces and pulled them, and her socks, from her feet and set them on the floor. She debated doing the same to her shorts, but was too embarrassed to entertain the thought for very long. These clay people... They seemed to
stare at you.
Feeling oddly self-conscious, she huddled further into herself and looked out the window. And then gasped.
The train, which had started out plainly horizontal, was now going vertical, and nothing seemed to be shifting around. She looked back inside for confirmation- no, nothing was moving about. Not even the swinging hand-holds were pointed back to Earth. It was like they'd never moved at all.
She looked back out the window. A gull flew by, and she could see the light from the train shining on its back, casting golden light on navy nights.
“... Miss?” Said a small voice by her left hand. Cheri quickly snapped back to attention, half-expecting the clay people to have crumbled and come back to life; like their clay a shell that's been pealed from a hard-boiled egg. Or worse, they were still statues, but the vertical incline had somehow given them vocal cords.
It was about as logical as anything else today, she thought.
But there was the little voice again, saying “Miss?”, and she was relieved to see that none of her fantasies were real. Instead, it was the little star who spoke, which was now big enough to resemble one of her mother's porcelain dolls. Cheri was also crushing it around its middle, and she quickly let go with a small apology.
The star waved it off, coughing a bit. It was plainly fascinating to her- its face was shaped perfectly, like an expensive toy or tiny statue. It had pale glowing skin, with striking red lips and jade eyes; white hair and a delicate, genderless body. It shuffled its robes around when it noticed her staring, almost self-conscious; while the silks had apparently burnt down to a suitable size for its tiny, feeble state, they did not grow again as the star did. It flashed her a sweet smile, bowed deeply, and said, “hello. I'm sorry I never had the chance to properly introduce myself. I am Sil'vine, a white dwarf. And you are...?”
Cheri bowed as much as she could in the seat, which wasn't much; she didn't trust herself to stand in a vertical-moving train. “I'm Cheri,” she said, and because it seemed like the sort of thing she should say at the time, she added, “a human.”
The star smiled at her again, its perfect-painted lips curling like strokes from a paintbrush. It seemed about three inches taller. “Ah, I'm... Sorry about growing so rapidly like this, I'm aware that's not how humans do things. I also apologize for landing in your garden, and covering you with stardust, and...” It looked sheepish, shrinking back into its tiny robes. “Well, everything. I trust you're not hurt?”
Cheri shook her head; she was unhappy and cold and hungry and moving sky-wards without ever feeling like she left the Earth, but she wasn't hurt. The star seemed happy with this, turning its attention to the other passengers.
Reaching over, it traced the rocky, forever-screaming face of one with a delicate fingertip, looking sad.
Cheri had several things she'd like to ask, but every time she opened her mouth, the words just evaporated. She fidgeted, nervous, feeling awkward; but the star seemed to catch on, and smiled warmly over its shoulder.
Sitting back again, it began by saying, “stardust is a... Valuable commodity. It can be used for just about anything and is very, very immoral to possess. It is a star's...” It pursed its lips in thought, “heart? Their soul, life, conscience- Well, you understand.
“Despite this, there are certain people who harvest the light for their own gain. Starlight is easy to track, but it could... It could power your world's electricity in every city, state, country or kingdom, everywhere, forever. If it's in a direct, concentrated state, that is.”
“Like you,” said Cheri, who was staring past the star's shoulder {it was now a bit taller than Cheri, and continuing to grow. Its robes lay unused in its lap.} at the cusp of the sun, on the other side of the world.
The star followed her line of vision, and nodded. “Yes, like me. But stardust has its drawbacks. People cannot see you once you handle raw dust, but they can track you by sheer instinct, greed; it-”
“Wait a second!” Cheri interrupted, and instantly felt bad about it. “You, er, sorry...”
“It's fine.”
“My mother... My mother could still see me! She handed me the ticket and, and...” Cheri broke off, feeling lost. The star ‘tisk’'d in a sympathetic way, brushing a bit of sea-blown hair from her forehead. Its fingers were so cold they burned.
“You had hardly held me for more than a moment. It is doubtless that you were... Fading in front of her eyes, so to speak.”
“Will I ever be able to go back?”
The star dropped their hand. “We shall see,” it said, and the ride continued on in silence for several more minutes, crawling the length of space.
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