City Of The Stars

The heart shaped locket in my hand pulsed in a rhythm much like the object it was shaped after. When the beating had started I was no more than a child, and it had continued as my one constant in life. It had taken several years of moving through the planes to notice that the rhythm changed ever so slightly with each new place I slept in. I would arrive at an inn or make camp on the side of the road to the same pulsing rhythm, and before I closed my eyes to rest there would be a cadence change.

If only that was the strangest part of my life.

Before I was born, the solar flares caused the worlds to burn up. Yes, I said worlds. We had discovered interdimensional travel and the planes overlapping our own just in time for the sun to turn our worlds dark. Without the hum of electricity blocking things the magic of old returned. That’s why the locket beats.

We have learned how to use magic to power things like we once used electricity. It’s just a different kind of power after all. It means I can still use a phone, if I had someone to call, that is. We don’t use cars very often because the engines run fine on gasoline, but the spark plugs don’t play well with magic.

This necklace I wear, though, I don’t know what gives it life. All I know is it seems to be leading me somewhere. When I get closer it beats faster. At one time it was a flutter against my throat, but I had to take a detour that left me turned around and now it’s back to a steady rhythm once more.

I passed through a forest a while back. The trees reminded me of home. The treehouse I slept in for a night made my heart warm, and for the first time in a long time I felt safe.

Home. That’s a place I try to not think of. I was sent away at the brink of a war, and I never heard from my parents. I can only assume they are dead. All they left me was the second heart I wear and a journal in my father's handwriting. There are blank pages at the back of the book, and that’s what I’m writing in now. So here goes:

Dear Diary, I am tired. I’m tired of walking, and oh so very tired of this journey that seems to never end.

The heart shaped locket doesn’t open. It beats against my skin to motivate on this never ending game of chase, and I don’t know what I will find on the other side or if I will even make it there.

I left the forest some time ago and found my way to a beach. There is water as far as I can see and the sound of the waves is calming. What’s also calming is this small beach house I am sitting in front of as I write. The windows are open with no glass panes to keep the breeze out. There’s a small porch with two woven chairs sitting next to each other. I don’t even see a lock on the door to keep people out.

I’ll have to go inside to rest tonight, and I will start my journey again in the morning. -Mek

I closed the book and went inside the house. No one had been here in quite some time, but there were still blankets on the bed and everything looked clean. Some sort of magic even allowed the place to have indoor plumbing that I took advantage of to wash the dirt from my skin. I nibbled on some jerky as I waited for the cover of darkness.

On the wall there is a framed map. It’s one that I’m familiar with because it’s also in my father's journal. “The City of the Stars” they call it. It’s not a place I have been to, and I don’t know anyone that has. As far as I know, it’s just a story. A fairy tale. A place where people live together and help each other. An extended family, though few are related.

I’m too old for fairy tales.

Once it was fully dark I waited for the locket to change rhythm, but for the first time since I had owned it the heart didn’t beat.

It hummed. A constant vibration.

I was so startled that I ripped it from my throat and held it in front of my face. I could feel my eyes grow wide as the hinges fell open and I was looking into the locket for the first time.

There weren’t pictures inside like you would expect. Just two words, one on each half.

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