falling stars

Instructions

Cause the eleventh book ruined my dang life. Also, this girl is a COMPLETE MYSTERY AND-- *composes self* Ahem, anyway. Implied death *sobs* but nothing else, so I rate it G, but obviously if you think otherwise, lemme know. Constructive criticism is welcome and invited, but please be gentle, cause I worked hard on this. Thanks!! :) ___________________________________________ They say my brother died well. I am too young to know for myself, but I believe them. He would not have died for nothing, not my brilliant brother, my fearless brother, my brother who laughed. They say that he died to save the king. In the king’s place, he rode into the lines of the enemy, laughing still, though he knew he was playing with death. He fell, it is told, from dragonback, an arrow alight in his chest, burning, burning, burning, filling the cold, dark sea with fire and blood as he tumbled into it. A falling star. Our king bears his Star now. Our king, with his red hair like my brother’s, tall and kind-eyed and learned in the dragons’ tongue. Our king, my cousin. Wherever he walks you can see it, shining on his chest, hanging from the silver chain about his neck. Glossy and black and heartbreakingly beautiful. A reminder of what we have gained, and all we have lost. Once he let me hold it, my brother’s Star. I cradled it in my hands, afraid to move. “He was very young, when he won it,” he whispered, watching me. “Not much older than you are now. He fought brilliantly.” "He did everything brilliantly." I did not look up to meet his gaze, though I knew that was unkind. Slowly, I stroked the shining black surface of the Star. “He was so brave,” I whispered. My cousin laughed, a quiet, painful sound. “He was. He was one of the bravest men I've ever known. There are times that I wonder if he was not a Black Star himself, given human form, shining courage into the hearts of those who fought beside him.” “How did he die?” I asked, finally looking up. I could not stop stroking the Star. It was glossier than ice, so smooth that I wondered if I did not imagine it. The king started. “Has no one told you?” I shook my head. “Some have, but will you tell me? You saw him last.” “So I did, Adelaide.” A small, sad smile crossed the king’s face. “So I did.” He sat down on the grass, motioning for me to sit beside him. A long time passed before he spoke. “It has been said before,” he began. “But Fate is Artistic indeed, for Stars burn no brighter than just before they fall.” ___________________________________________