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Spoiler

This entry was originally story told for an event on Gaia in 2015 during the winter event. Kin were invited to tell a story to Death Brings Change and the kin that had gathered in the clearing to listen to these stories.

As part of the prompt we were to roll three inspiration words. I rolled: Stars, Crane, Bitter.

Here is Trouble's entry.

As she approaches the clearing, Trouble spots one group that seems a little more laid back as various kin tell their stories -- all of them varied, and different. A few of them clearly made up.

After awhile, however, her own interest is piqued and she recalls a story that she once heard, herself. A somewhat sad story, perhaps, but touching, nonetheless. Usually, Trouble isn't the sort for romance and touchy-feelie stuff, but she figures maybe it's the cooling air in the swamp, or something to do with the festivities around her. Besides, this story isn't exactly what she'd consider a fairy-tale.

"I have a story, if you care to listen. A somewhat sad story, but guaranteed to tug at the heartstrings all the same."

She waits until all eyes are on her, and smiles faintly as she glances around at their expectant, curious, faces.

"Once, long ago, the world was black and dark and no sun or stars or moon shone upon it to light the way of the creatures that stumbled about, blind, in the darkness. They had no concept of time, or distance. The future and past, unable to be marked so clearly by such concepts as days, or nights, were vague and murky ideas to them. They laughed, and loved, and fought, struggled, and wept, and triumphed all in darkness -- never even knowing the faces of their fellow kin.

Yet, they were not saddened by this. After all, it's all they ever knew -- all they could have ever known.

Until, one day, a kin, discontent with her lot in life, perhaps, decided that she was tired and bored, and in need of something new. Something exciting. So, she decided to wander until she had found something to ease the ache of want in her heart.

She came across many new things, and met many new kin, yet she was still discontent. After all, in the darkness, she had little to remember them by save their voices and, after awhile, even those began to fade together until she could no longer recall them clearly.

Eventually, however, she began to feel as if something were.... different. Yet, unable to place her hoof on what it was, she continued on until she realized what it was. Someone was following her! Why, the nerve of it was so unsettling that her temper was raised at once and she turned about, her ears cocked to try and locate the other.

"Come out, then, and don't simply stand there!" She shouted. "Why are you following me?"

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. The moment stretched, and just as the doe was beginning to think she had imagined it, and was about to feel quite foolish, a voice sounded in the dark.

"I'm here -- and I didn't mean to startle you. I'm sorry." The voice seemed sincere enough, but different. She'd never quite heard a voice like it before. Intrigued, now, her anger began to fade as it was replaced by curiosity.

“Who are you? What do you want?” She asked, and she heard the sound of movement, and a warm breath of wind caressed her cheek. A moment later, the voice sounded again from the same direction -- much closer, this time.

“I was drawn to you. To your willpower. You have traveled very far, and for quite some time. Yet, you never once settled down and still, here you are.” More soft noise follows, as of someone settling down, and the doe decides that she might as well sit for a moment, too while she listens. “I am the one who watches from afar -- and I have watched you for some time.”

Confused, the doe tilted her head to the side, as if to puzzle over this strange answer. She didn’t understand. “Watched me? I don’t understand. What does that mean?”

“Your world is dark, and so you cannot see, but I have followed you. Your progress. You are a spark in the dark world. You search for something and yet you do not know what that is. Still, you have not found it. Do you know what it is you look for?”

The doe did not, and yet, as she listened, she felt a calmness in her heart. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to stay a little longer, after all.

“It becomes lonely to watch all the time and have no one to speak with. I decided that I would join you, here, only…”

“Only what?” The doe felt a strange sort of thrill speaking to this other one. Just who were they?

“Only now I don’t want to leave.”

For, you see, the other realized as soon as he seen the doe that she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. The doe could not see him, being blind as she was, for she had no use of sight in a world that was of pitch darkness. She could not see how the being before her glowed with an otherworldly light. He was, quite plainly, struck instantly with love for her. But his love came with a kind of bitterness. After all, he could not take her with him up above into the sky. But maybe there was another solution.

“Let me travel with you for awhile. Perhaps I can help you find what you seek.”

The doe agreed, and for a time, the two traveled together. His company soothed her during her long travels and she soon found herself laughing with him, a contentment warring with her need for that thing she had no name for. Finally, an idea had formed in the mind of her companion and one day he proposed it to her, admitting his feelings at the same time.

“I love you,” he said. “I would have you by my side but it is impossible -- for you cannot fly, and I must return to my home in the skies. But… if I could grant you sight, perhaps, then, I would be comforted if only you might look up at me and see me, as I look down at you.”

“I do not wish for you to leave,” the doe exclaimed and realized, then, that what she’d sought she’d already found. A tear fell down her cheek and the other, his heart breaking, wiped it away with the soft edge of his feathered wing.

They spent all of that day together, comforting one another for what must come next. He could impart into her some of his life force, to grant her the ability of sight, and it would tie them together forever -- despite the distance between them. Though better than nothing, she, too, felt the bitterness of their love, not wanting to part with him.

After some time, the ritual was complete, and for the first time the doe was able to see -- and as she laid her eyes upon his shining form, the elegantly long curve of his neck, the softness of his glistening feathers, the whole of him so elegant and pure, she felt herself weeping again. He was magnificent, after all -- and she was to be away from him after this great gift.

Soon, he left, but his shining form could still be made out in the distant darkness of the sky, his light shining down from above, forever lighting her way. A brilliant star. And the crane, well, he never tired of seeing her, either and, as before, he would find a way to come down and visit her, and his form would make a brilliant streak across the sky as he fell down to the earth.

And thus, they say, that is how the kin first gained their sight, and why, even now, when we look up at the night sky it is full of so many twinkling stars -- the brilliant, shining, offspring of that first, bitter, love."

Trouble looked over the crowd as she finished, and their zikwa host, before she quietly made her way from the front to sit, once more, along the back row.