Is The Answer In The Stars? PV Elena Clark

Hand slowly brushing the railing, steps measured and poised, the moonchild was slowly ascending a path she had taken countless times. However this time she came to a halt upon facing the entrance to the classroom, instead of continuing up to her predilected retreat. Eyes trailing down the sculpted wooden door, the raven tilted her head to the side, fingers grazing the handle - a second of hesitation.

The very reason she was currently standing here had appeared a few days earlier, brought to her by a twist of fate. A breeze had ripped a carefully pinned flier, probably sparked by the incessant flow of entering student and the strong wind of october, and had carried it right to the feet of a certain blonde, sat in the hall and deeply buried in a most interesting volume. Glancing down, she had spotted this unusual cry for help, had bent over and picked it up. It was something akin to a demand or a plea, requesting one's help in a subject the raven beloved, yet no name or additional information was attached to it. Simply a place, and a time.

One less trusting in mankind than herself would have certainly frowned upon her presence there tonight - she could simply close her eyes and see the pouting face of her dearest friend, lecturing her about the danger of perfect coincidences, or how fate was a produce of human's mine to bring forth reassurance and relieve them from the burden of thinking too hard. Yet she, for one, believed in it, and it is why her steps had naturally led her towards this mysterious rendez - vous.

Wrapping firmly her hand on the handle, she pushed the door open and took a few steps inside, eyes narrowing at the sudden brightness of the candle-lit room.

A single form was spread out on the floor, surrounded by a halo of notes and diverse parchemins. A girl, it appeared, with dark brown waves cascading from her inert porcelain face - a rose, eager to bloom. With doe eyes the same hue as her locks, she truly evoked flowers of pink shades and soft petals floating on a still lake, an appeasing image that made the blonde's lips curve into a soft smile. See, Ev ? Not a serial killer.

"Hello," she spoke out, tilting her head slightly - a tick she really had to master someday. Holding it her right hand, she extended the flyer that had found her to the stranger, smiling in a comforting way. "I heard you had a fight with the moon and stars ?"

Despite feeling her attempt at humour had landed completely off-course, the raven did not shy away. In her defense, socializing when the sun had disappeared was always harder for her. The carefully crafted mask she wore under daylight found itself cracking under the moon, as if its gentle rays revealed Elena's true nature. Words seemed to pass past the barrier of her lips much more easily, and she often found herself acting without carefully tossing the situation in her mind, something she would have never allowed to happen during the day. Though despite this layer of armor being ripped off her skin, despite her aversion for meeting other in what had become her time of solitude, she had come here for a reason, and she intended on lingering until the matter was solved, no matter how long it took.

The disheveled form bathing in notes and scribbles took the appearance of a seemingly exhausted student, brown waves sticking out at odd angles, trying to escape the hold of the hair tie clutching them in a high ponytail. The scene evoked vividly one of her worse moments, a few months prior, and the irony of the situation was amusing - her, standing in the place of the white-haired eagle she had surprisingly grown to affectionate, despite a rough start. Shaking the souvenir off her skin, she instead focused on approaching the skittish girl, who was making anxious attempts at taming her wild locks.

She came to a halt a few feet away from the stranger in distress, clasping her hands in one another before tilting her head slightly, running navy eyes along the scene. Her gaze slipped into one tainted with amusement upon hearing the girl's response. The night sky had different impacts on the souls wandering below it, and hearing one that was at the very antipode of her own was... well, ironic. The moon and stars made her restless, urging her to run until her breath gave up, to bathe in their light and remain forever by their side. Loyal companion that had followed her through her sleepless nights, the very same companions that were now singing this girl to slumber. "You should probably listen to them," she smiled softly, before uttering the world's most hypocritical sentence. "Sleep is vital, and the lack of it will only make you sink deeper." Coming from the insomniac herself.

Her hand fell back to her side when she ignored the flyer, but it was her heart that clenched upon seeing this brown-haired stranger attempting to soothe herself by clutching her knees tightly. Knowing it would be deemed as strange to hug someone she had just met, Elena hesitated, trying to fight the urge at embracing the aching girl. Instead, she fell to her knees by her side, rubbing circles on her back. "Academics can be ruthless, even more so when your heart is filled with good intentions. It takes time to figure it out, more than you would imagine. No one, no one can expects you to hold yourself to such high standards. You are not weak for making mistakes, and you are not weak for asking for help. It might in fact be one of the bravest things you ever did." Truly hoping she was not sinking the girl further in her desperation, her heart ached as the memory of that night came to the surface of her mind again, stirring back negative sensations. "I know I didn't, even though I should had, and I ended up in a hospital bed," she sighed out, chuckling half-heartedly. "So that makes you braver and stronger than me, for one, and I'm quite sure half the population of this castle wouldn't have dared even to think of it."

Tilting her head she nudged her slightly, smiling - and praying she hadn't somehow made it worse -, "I'm Elena. What's your name ?"

Heavens seemed to watch over the two girls sunken to the floor. A singular moonbeam had pierced through the stained glass of the oval window mounted on the wall, illuminating the disarrayed papers scattered over the floor. Its light made the silver tears streaming down round cheeks glow, as if liquid stars were pouring from the girl's chestnut eyes. A gentle smile curving her lips, she slowly eased down her circular movements, giving her a little more space to breathe and organize her thoughts. Standing as still as the night's crisp cold air, Elena let her gaze trail down the room, taking deep breaths. As though her being solely thrived on it, moonlight always seemed to replenish her, sharpening her senses and appeasing her frantic soul. And the clarity it provided was deeply needed in such a crucial moment.

Judging by how touch-starved the brunette was, by how tense and nervous she looked, or simply feeling the dark teal waves of anxiety accompanied by a dash of purple-colored fear that just gazing at her caused in Elena, this stranger was standing in front of a cliff, the wind slowly inching her closer. It saddened the raven to see such a kind soul in a state like this, so close to the beginning of the year. Yet a new environnement, without meaningful connections and under pressure, often seems like one's personal hell. She could not put into words how grateful she was for meeting so early another piece of her heart, who came in the form of a strange saccharine blonde - it made everything bearable.

When one lacks this sort of connection, without a shoulder to rest on, the world resembles a colorless canva, each new stroke looking like another burden to shoulder, and face, alone.

"Lucille," she repeated slowly, acknowledging her with a nod as the smile curving her lips spreaded ever so slightly. A tiny frown creased her brows, and she tilted her head, pondering her response. Perhaps she was biased by her own experience, but asking for help was, in her opinion, one of the bravest thing mankind could ever do. She, herself, was a coward, preferring to bask in aiding others rather than focus on the myriad of things that were wrong within her. A hypocrite of the truest kind, though one that was well-intentioned. Taking, accepting felt odd ; she then hid in giving, in caring. Was that so wrong ?

"You can," she answered after a minute of silence, "but that doesn't mean you must. Especially not if it means destroying everything else that lies within you." Essence, aura, true self, 'spark' - it has many names, and is to the moonchild the one thing that must be protected at all costs. The very one that makes each being unique and special, something all - religious, poets, artists, writers - agree is precious, though they give it many shapes, forms or origins. If 'divine' exists, it is found there.

Her eyes narrowed as she listened to pure denial, face shifting into a dubitative expression. "It is not," she gently said, "and you don't have to pretend with me." Inching away from Lucille, she pouted slightly, waiting a second before continuing, "You don't have to reach the skies in the instant, you know. To each their pace, their road."

Despite trying her best at making the lonesome bird in front of her chirp again, Elena could not help but feel each of her words resonate within her every cell. Watery eyes and feathers plucked from her wings, claws clasped with a heavy iron chain — this bambi-eyed girl had built her own cage, burying herself into her self-esteem, sinking lower and lower with each challenge that rose to face her. Hand lightly brushing a strand of her tousled chocolate locks, the raven tilted her head, a serene smile clinging to her lips despite the pit her words had carved into her chest.

For despite corresponding as close as one could be to what students perceived as academical perfection —high grades, solid record, prefect in her second year —, the moonchild often felt as though a path had been given to those around her, one she could neither understand nor follow. Condemned to remain aside, wandering soul in the dark, she resented those who appeared to glide through life with easiness, who did not have this constant veil stretching between them and the world.

And yet.

"And yet it's your pace," she nudged the brunette, a smile woven through her tone. "No soul inhabiting this earth is able to walk the same path as you, no one can tell you if it's hard, or easy, or long, or slow. And you can not affirm one's own path is faster or easier than yours, because you do not walk it. You are unique. You are absolute. Not relative, especially not relative to others." She meant every word, and hoped the tearing girl facing her would understand what she tried to transmit.

Elena's heart clenched at her little plea for help, mentally adding Lucille to the long list of souls she craved to capture from this world, travel far away from the blinding light of the sun and tend to every last day of her mortal life. Washed over by this intense wave of aww (no words could describe this feeling better than this regrettably non-literary onomatopoeia), she pulled the little bird in a brief, tight embrace, fighting the urge of deposing a kiss on the forehead of someone she had just met. Get a grip on yourself, please.

"Of course," she finally smiled, releasing her before clearing her throat, looking around. An impressive amount of scribbled parchments scattered the floor, as well as opened books and some broken quills, apparently snapped in half in a sudden access of desperation. "Where do you want to start ?"

"Then we shall start from the beginning."

An eternity later — the moonchild had lost track of time, unable to tell if she had been there for minutes, hours or days —, dust had settled over the far edges of the room, minuscule ghosts twirling within the moonlight, odd ballet with an even more peculiar public. For sat on the cold, hard tiles of this room perched into the highest tower of the castle, were two girls. Neck sore from the time spent bent on a myriad of fleeting papers floating about, covered in unreadable scribbles and ink stains, eyes straining to focus on the words detaching themselves on parchment and a back that was surely now somewhat distorted.

Still, the honey haired girl was proud of the work they had managed to accomplish, and she dearly hoped her little birdie was too. Only seconds ticking away from this day would tell if the intensive study session they had just been through had truly helped Lucille to understand the ways of the skies, but from as far as the raven could judge, she appeared more confident and self assured in her own capacities, which consisted in itself a victory.

Leaning back, Elena stretched, a yawn tearing itself from her throat. "Hey," she nudged the brunette, smiling. "Curfew. Let me walk you back to your dorm." For she was indeed, before a self proclaimed mentor, a prefect, and she would not let a firstie transgress rules while under her care. Besides, the tiredness in her companion's eyes fooled no moonchild — Lucille needed to rest, and perhaps now that her spirits were appeased she might finally be able to. "You did good," she added, a prideful shimmer in her navy eyes. "I do hope you're proud of yourself, for I am."

Reaching for a few volatile papers, she tucked them into a notebook before gently rising to her feet, extending a hand with a teasing smile stretched upon her face. "Now come on, bedtime."