Stolen Stars

We are all prisoners of the galaxy, of The Galaxy Lords, and the mortal world. The holy night of the stars will be different this year; the stars will shine, blinding us with the light that makes our eyes bleed from the creases of our cornea to the tips of our chins. I can just feel it through my mortal veins. Mama said it had been centuries since someone from the town of Luriada has been out in the open sky. The Holy Asartar night is a night where every star in the galaxy lights up with flames, my favorite being the star of temprata. As a child, my parents kept me and my little brother Hyphen well away from this night; they feared there could be outliers, those who go against the “normal” capabilities of humanity and pick up on the greediness of the starian sixtation. The starian sixtation are told to have picked up on the souls they have stolen during this night. Nobody has ever returned from the open sky, Mama said they could be dead, Papa said they could be sacrificed, and I say they could be killers.

I stand inches away from my mothers swaying hips as she cuts beetroots fresh from our garden, her lavender-scented brunette hair gracefully displayed in front of her right shoulder as she stabs beetroot through the blade. Mother always made dinner at an ungodly early hour on the day of Asartar; we pray over the food and are forced to slip into bed before the sun kisses the midnight sky goodbye.

Mama reaches over to latch onto my shoulders with affection before she stares into my violet eyes and forces herself to let out her yearly command, “Goodnight, Hyphen and Amber, remember to pray to the Lords of The Galaxy tonight.” I hold the stare through my thick eyelashes before turning into my bedroom. Ma knew I was a disbeliever; she only spat up her words, hoping that I would change, realize—obey.

The sky is still full of life, unable to fade away in the distance just yet; sometimes I wonder if Papa is right; That I am like the sky, always blue, new life but never the darkness. I crack my neck back and let the damp wind brush against my rosy cheeks, the air seeping into the holes between my lace

nightgown. Suddenly after hours of waiting up for nothing, in particular, my mind shifts into fuzzy, warm, and bright images. Faint whispers crawl up my mind like clawing against the back of my brain, closer.

The light is so distant, yet so close; its beaming yellow spikes seem only to get bigger as I step forward. The ground beneath my bare toes feels earthy, grassy, and liquid. I walk until my leg muscles give up, and I crash against the thundering floor, whispers sinking into my temple. You are here. You have arrived.

“A-Arrived?” I whisper faintly to the breeze in the distance. I am too sore to move around or turn to the whisperer. I will just fall asleep, wherever this may be. This must be a dream. I also feel light, too exhausted, too—

“Too foreign? Ah, typical mortal. Welcome to the galaxy.” Interrupting my thoughts, a deep cocky voice seemed to scrape words against each inch of my nervous system. His roaring voice appears to send a trickle down my spine, with a chuckle trailing behind his every name. His boots seemed to drag out on the surface as he kneeled in front of me; his eyes were the color of a midnight sky, with skin as rich as gold, a dimple rising above his knife-cutting jawline. I adjust my neck back and sink my eyes into my glassy lids. This is some stupid dream with a stupidly arrogant, handsome male in it; I tuck my feet between my warm legs to keep myself from freezing as the breeze continues to hit my neck. I tremble until my body gives in and lets me fall into slumber once again.

***

The air that fills through my lungs feels different, clear, nothing like the air of my hometown. I stretch my body enough to plummet face-first into what seems like a tingling forcefield as my limbs give in to the feeling, footsteps echo in the distance. My eyes absorb and adjust to the world environment. Blanketing me is the sky with open stars beaming across the sky, full of light, full of life, and full of fire. Orbs of fire and ice dancing around different circles around me with such radiant glitter, I shake my head as hard as I can as if this could all go away with enough impact from the shake; this is not real, not real, not real. I loosen my body and jerk myself into standing upright as my eyes scan through this mystical land; I have entered the realm of the starian sixtation.

“A ginger?” A tall, broad figure spits out from under his snake-like tongue. He frames his arms crossed tightly above his chest, emerald eyes shining through the crack of light from the flames of stars above us. “Let me guess, little ginger; someone pushed you into the open sky?” I foolishly shook my head hard enough to spin my strawberry blonde braids; my calmness and obedience were nothing like me in the mortal world. This world seems secretive, possessive, almost like the herbs and sky’s smell are sickeningly possessive over those who roam. I shiver loud enough to cause my ankle bracelet to skid across the marbled floor beneath my toes. I squint into the distance holding a stare before four other figures; their laughs cough up behind the male.

The smell of thick, rich cologne fills my nostrils as a surprisingly taller, blond-haired figure stands before me. His white shirt barely covering his muscles, he catches my eyes before murmuring, “Aye, give the chick a break; she seemed to be dreaming for days when she fell into the loophole.” A lopsided grin rose from ear to ear as he let out a deep chuckle under his breath. That’s what this was, a loophole. I bite off the urge to roll my eyes at the flaming open sky above us; thank you, Lords. Loopholes were explicitly designed to connect the galaxy to the mortal world on a holy night; anybody that falls into the possession of the whispers from the loopholes usually either turns into a star or is never seen again. Very few make it out; of course, I had to survive this bs.

Two plumped girls braced themselves in front of me, staring at me from my cut bare worn-out feet to the tip of my blazing ginger hair. Their faces were identical, slim-faced, with open yellow eyes and plumped lips. The twin on the right stared down at my stick arms before she started, “Excuse their manners, I’m Dola, and this,” she stared at the tanned face girl to her left, “She’s my twin, Bree.” Bree

forced a soft, sympathetic smile against her rosy cheeks as if she understood my emotions, I peeled my lips into a returning smile.

“The dreaming ginger,” His breath hitting against the bit of cleavage my lace gown indicated, caressing the traces of skin. His posture strikingly recognizable, and his moonlit eyes are recognizable from miles away. He skimmed me down once, twice, and then crammed a toothy smirk that indented his dimple on his right cheek, arms crossed, brows furrowed, almost like he was trying to decide my fate. My fate was in the hands of these...killers. He positioned himself in a higher manner; he let his fanged teeth bite into the outside of his luscious lips bleeding from the trace of his bite marks, “You poor thing, such a waste to all of us, you’d be useful if only you were-” He turned and faced the rest of them, for reassurance, they all silently stared blankly with the agreement, their eyes blinking in protest. “Actually,” The words rolled off his tongue with a hoarse tone, “Training starts tomorrow. Dola, Bree show Amber her chamber.”

I was too tired, too emotionally and physically exhausted to peep up a question. I nodded at each member ahead of me as a sign of my dismissal. I followed the two twins as they rushed me into a large room that overlooked the gardens of the galaxy. The gardens were filled with bright green and yellow fruits, flowers that looked like they had been animated. My room had ancient paintings held in golden frames of Gods and statues that I recognized, the main ones being the Lord of Saturn and the Lord of Mercury. I couldn’t go to sleep, not in a house of killers. I unconsciously rejected the uncomforting town

my mother cradled me in; I left it for the dangers of the open sky; a salty tear streamed down my heated cheek as I fell back into slumber.

***

My chest rises as shadows fill my room; I feel present footsteps entering my room as I catch a slight glimpse of the masculine moonlight-filled eyes squinting through his brunette lashes. His

face turns stern, rock-solid as he gestures to me to get up. I barely slept a wink last night, and the last thing I wanted to do was get dragged around by these blood-struck assholes for following that stupid God damn whisper. I let out a yawn in protest, but his eyes replied with rage and anger. Compared to the empathetic, vulnerable look my mother used to force herself to weave into me, his gaze seemed foreign. I guess I like it.

I drag myself into the dining room where every one of the starian sixtations sits, ready to gobble on the fresh poached eggs and ham waiting in steamed bunches in front of our eyes; I settle into the seat besides Dola, her posture instantly perking up from the side as she bites into her poached eggs.

“Unfortunately, we have time for breakfast and introductions,” the moonlit gazed man catches my attention through his low grumbles, “I’m Axl, leader of the starian sixtation. Everyone, this is Amber; as we all know, was caught into a loophole, I told Rehan and Cafere that I would be training her as of this morning.” His deep blue eyes traced the printed floral tablecloth before he directed a subtle nod to the rest of them.

Green eyes slithered around the table, “I’m Rehan,” he checked his side, acknowledging who looked like the purest of them all; he must be Cafere, blond hair, stunning muscles, and bright citrus orange eyes; Rehan let out a cold, wet laugh as he noticed drool trickling from the corners of my lips. Shit.

My cheeks heated, reacting to his acknowledgment turning into a blush pink. Rehan continued choking on his ham, “Well, I guess you know who Cafere is. Be warned, though he’s told to look innocent, cross his path, and your blood will trickle under our very boots.”

Cafere let out a low chuckle in pride as he forced himself to straighten in his chair, crossing his ankles. “Ginger, don’t do anything you’ll regret, even if you think you know everything about us. No story is completed without two narrators.” I let out a soft, warm sigh as my eyes crossed paths with the twins; they blushed in awe as I put my hands together to pray in silence.

“May the Lord be with me, with you, with all us. Carrying the knowledge on the backs of the believers, and the hell-” My muscles tensed as I felt Axl's gaze strike my lips with anger. I fought back the urge to continue my prayer.

“Enough. Time for training.” Axl cut off each vocal cord with his command as his words echoed through the room. Right. They all believe in multiple Lords. I’m the only disbeliever, as usual.

***

I slipped through the greyish ruby attire, the belt-tightening against my hips, fitting into every slight crevice. I made myself worthwhile during training; Axl checked me for weapons, vulnerability, and speed. His fingers lurked against my belt as he threw me into a water-filled pit; I shot him a narrow glare as my eyes heated, my fingers became clammy and sogged as I latched onto the railing. He continued to scream over me, wincing that this all was necessary to build strength, to be fearless and brave in the galaxy. His eyes stared down at me through the glassy doors, a toothy, aggravatingly handsome smirk from ear to ear. I winced as I pulled myself up and over the pit, over and over again until I was visibly nauseous until my bones felt like they were clawing through my intestines. Finally, Cafere and Rehan

communicated through a nudge to Axl's left shoulder; in return, Axl shot me a nod, and I threw myself onto the stone floorboard; the galaxy was nothing like I imagined. I clamped a rusted hand over my dried lips in embarrassment as I realized I had been stammering my thoughts into speech. R-Real words that Axl was listening to.

“Humans tend to see the worst in us, don’t they, Amber?” He hissed, taunting my words. I listened to Axl’s words through the noise of my pounding chest, his red lips turned into a thin line, as he crossed his arms over his heart, “The galaxy has been cursed for centuries, nobody wanted to take the souls of the innocent into the air, but it seems like.” He let a sigh escape through his white crow-picked bone teeth. His eyes were now peering into my line of sight, “Every year, the whispers grow louder, crawling into people's brains, manipulating them into thinking that the ‘starian sixtation’ need souls to turn into stars when in reality we have enough stars, we just need to break the curse the Lords have settled upon our people, your people- the mortal stars.”

I cough up a sweaty laugh as I shuffle around the floor, “You are using me as your ragdoll for what exactly?” I lower my gaze. I can’t let him think I am trying to rebel against his words, I must agree to do this, for me, for my family, for my town, I chew off the last bit of my sentence before continuing, “So why do- do the Lords need me?”

His eyes crawl back and forth through the room, scattering as if his words were scattered around the floorboards that crack beneath the soles of our shoes, “We need you,” the terms of eagerness seemed to send an uncomforting response through his veins as his posture tensed, “You. To protect our promise to the Lords of the galaxy. For the Lords cursed the holy night for decades fearing that the moral world will not obey to their commands if humans are fearful enough to believe that we would turn them into a flaming star.”

My eyes traveled to his muscular greek god-like body, in agreement, silent agreement, though my mind, heart, and body knew this was not right. These cold-blooded murders might need me to do this, but I don’t, hell itself would rain down on this galaxy for all I care; I didn’t come here to bargain my life for promises or trust to the Lords of the universe that I don’t worship. I refrained from shouting wicked curses into his pointy devilish ears as I limped through the open gateway door into my bedroom; I chuckled under my warm breath, Lords of the galaxy, needing…me. Who would have known the almighty starian sixtation would need a 17-year-old to assist their prophecies? Of course, rendering against their plans could cost me my life no matter how many times Axl tries to manipulate my thoughts to believe otherwise. Anyone would be honored from my town to even remotely speak to these Lords or have them acknowledge their very existence, but to me, this was a whole lot of fear-mongering and bs shoved up some “century” old prophecies.

The next few weeks in the galaxy base were oddly somewhat comforting; the twins braided my hair every night, fidgeting through my scalp with their soft nail beds, we spoke about their foolish gossip; they made me fill them in on life as a high schooler in the mortal world. They snorted up a giggle at the mention of teenage mortal boys. However, Rahan and Cafere stuck together and worked on spotting the perfect day for the galaxy Lords’ ceremony; Axl stayed true to his training words. He and I agreed that it would be best to train with him daily, although I didn’t have much choice considering it was either that or training with the galaxy separates, the most hauntingly dangerous space animals. His pupils seemed to grow when he looked down at me; Cafere and Rahan always bothered him about it, elbowing him as his cheeks heated. I shrugged it off; he was murderously handsome.

***

The ceremony gathering date had arrived. Axl planted a dress that was the color of his moonlit gaze atop of my ashy grey sheets, pearls hanging from each side of the bodycon dress. I slipped it on as it held my breasts in firm placing, tightly tracing each curve, aligning the detail of my body. I had never felt

so beautiful before, my skin was shining, crystal clear, my eyes seemed to be a hint of a lighter violet, and my lashes were thicker than when Mama used to put castor oil in the roots; I smiled at the thought of her seeing me, her disappointment, but Papa, he would look at me in awe, he wouldn’t look at me with those disturbingly set of vulnerable eyes that Mama had always placed on me, the ones that made me want to rip out every vain that coated her pupils.

The men of the starian sixtation lined, arms in each pocket, skimming me like I had not lived under their realm for weeks. Their eyes chained every inch of my curves as if they could capture the printing of my body through a photographic image embedded within their minds; indeed, these assholes had some kind of system that could do that in this galaxy. I sighed and let out a dry snicker at the thought. I waved my hand, and they all cleared their throats in orchestration; I forced a slight toothy grin followed by a wink to each of the men. All of their faces steamed, except for Axl. His look was stern, unamused,

and even more so jealous? I swear his temple nearly printed the words, I want you under the same galaxy as me forever. I shuddered at his glance before we rode into the night sky.

We quickly vanished with a snap of Cafere and Rehan’s fingers; Axl told me previously that their magic only worked with the galaxy on a full moon. Yet, I was stunned when the breeze of the sky struck against every bare spot on my dress as my body quivered in bitterness to the cold, ripe air. We had practiced this for weeks; this was not the time to screw up. The Lords of The Galaxy floated atop of the lumbar floorboard, their capes being dragged against the polished wood; they circled me as if I had already introduced myself, and now they were waiting to pounce. I made sure my fear was locked well away, shoved down the lump in my throat. We sat around the dining table as eyes from every angle peered on every trace of skin that I revealed; behind my left shoulder, the lord of mercury seemed to sniff me out for an unbeliever, his dark grey eyes drenched in disgust. I excused myself into the powder room as I fixed my dress, covering the bits of skin that they had printed their eyes on. I felt a tightness gripping against my skin, but when I tried to shake it off, it stayed; I turned to face Axl sympathetically. Mesmerizing eyes. I waited in silence, staring into the air, for a word to slip its way between his luscious lips. Nothing. His gaze fixed on my strawberry hair, then my freckles, and then- my lips. He cupped my chin with his long fingers dwindling against my lower jaw.

“As lovely as the stars are, you seem to be the light in the darkest of skies Amber. Thank you for contributing to this-.” He caught himself, staring into my eyes for any hint of concern before he continued, “For all of this.” He loosened his grip before kissing the sensitive spot above my temple, beneath where my scar from the loophole had indented my fair skin. He walked away, broadening his shoulders and maximizing his height, disappearing into the distance. My cheeks flushed in awe, wanting more of him- all of him. I placed my clammy fingers against my temple, rubbing it in various circles as if I could savor or re-create the moment we had just shared.

Words were waiting to slip off my tongue as I fled through the narrow halls. I shut my eyes, re-imagining the moment he laid his hands on me, but before I could savor the moment, a sharp pain grew

throughout my upper body, slamming me face-first into a metal door. I yanked my neck to peer into the doorway; inside an open book sat with a bottle of red wine and what seemed to look like a golden ring box, shimmering in the peek of light from overhead. I cranked open the tiny box, noticing a small dosage of what seemed to be heykila. The heykila was the most deadly pill to any mortal, starian sixtation, or lord. I read the note that sat atop of the open book.

“Slip this into her drink by the end of the night. She shall resurrect and turn into the star of temprata; I got her flustering at the thought of me already; she doesn’t know what is happening in the Lord’s names. She is a disbeliever, no use to any kind.” Killer 267: Axl.

My heart nearly skipped a beat as I read the note over and over; my heart stung with embarrassment, I let him in, and he knew it. He had trained me for weeks, just to kill me; this was all a distraction, a major distraction that I had overlooked. I heard Axl's chuckles entering my mind, deepening every second I stared at the words. I slipped the pill into my front pocket and exited quickly, scanning

every inch of the hallway for anyone who may have seen me. Nobody. As I dove back into my chair, I settled my hands atop of the wooden framework, kicking my legs in front of me, my chin was high, and my gaze was fixed on the bottle of glittering champagne in the kitchen sink. Axl had been a part of starian sixtation for years; he knew every trick, every hidden weapon. I needed to slip both dosages into each glass; that way, no matter which one he chooses, he will still die a painful death turning into an asteroid. I grinned at the thought of his vulnerability. Hopefully, he becomes my favorite asteroid, which would make him useful for my eyes’ aesthetic. I latched onto the two glasses and poured the glistening liquid, plopping two dosages, one for him and one for me. I winked in his direction as he shot me a smirk, revealing his right dimple.

I braced myself on top of his muscular thigh, holding his glass in my very hands. I trembled as his fingers trailed up and down my skin, his lips nearing bits of my neck, nibbling away at the sensitive parts. I stared into his moonlit gaze for a moment before I clinked our cups, waiting for him to take the first sip; he threw me a seductive smirk.

His hands were holding my throat in place; I was trapped beneath his power. Vulnerable. I wiggled, trying to make room for air. “This is how I show my love for my women.” He tightened his grip on my neck, nearly choking me; he was well aware of my plans and continued doubling the size of his smirk, “Drink up ginger.” He poured the warm liquid down my throat as he picked up the other glass and drank calmly. My throat itched at the bitterness of the liquid as it trailed down every bit of my throat. I glanced back at him over my shoulder; he was shuddering, shaking with anger, his sunken eyes begging for mercy, as he lunged himself forward, choking on the dosage. His body trembled for moments and then went disturbingly still. Every lord in the room now glared at him, at me, at us. My skin itches, I ripped my nails through my skin, but then my heart began to itch, and then my brain, and then my lungs gave in-, and my body collapsed. Before I could process anything, my body had settled besides Axles. Arms

intertwined, legs on top of each other and hearts side by side, our souls were up in the air, dancing until they burst into hot orange flame.

***

Every inch of my body had stretched into five corners, five blazing yellow tips that shined in front of the universe, in front of the galaxy, and in front of the mortal world. My body—My soul was now on display for the Lords to see. Every galaxy lord had their yearly sacrifice, through their lies, their haunting “myths,” all of it was true, every single galaxy Lord knew that, and anybody smart enough to see through their ill intentions would have been able to sniff out their false claims. Except for me. Now I was a star, shining, but I am also like the sky, always blue, new life but never the darkness. I am the star of temprata and besides me was my favorite asteroid, the bulhana asteroid. I felt a laugh trickle up my cornered veins within my star shape; the bulhana asteroid was—Axl.

Through love and lies, through hate and pity, everybody looked up into the sky with their vulnerable mortal eyes bleeding through the pain that my shine had forced upon them. I was the fire, the

star, and the skies’ ruler, but I was also the murderer. I held these mortals inside a cage of light and fire. I had five corners in the galaxy.

I had it all wrong—there were no other killers. I was the killer that everyone needed to escape from. I was who I needed to protect myself from.