Andromeda

XVIII.

It seemed like the force of all the gravity on the planet was pushing down on Andromeda's bare feet as she walked across the roof to the edge. Right after I thought that I wondered why it would be. Did Earth not want her to leave? Did the Earth have a soul? I had no idea. If the moon did, why not the planet? The moon was originally part of the planet, technically.

Jeongguk was sitting on the ledge of the roof, and she sat down next to him and took his hand in hers. The light from the moon seemed to get brighter and brighter, turning the world around us more and more white.

"This isn't the last time we'll see each other," Andromeda said in that same voice that sounded like a whisper but echoed like a shout. The words seemed to wrap around us like a warm blanket. I assume it was unintentional for the rest of us to feel it, as it was clear she was talking to Jeongguk and only him.

He looked away from her soft eyes. "I thought you said I couldn't come with you."

She smiled and gently tilted his head back so he could see her. "One day," she said. "One day I'll find you again. When you're old and have lived out your life, I'll come find you. And then we can go wherever you want."

He smiled, but a tear rolled down his face. "Saturn?" he asked.

She nodded. "Saturn, Mars, Pluto, anywhere you'd like." She laughed. "I'll show you the stars, darling." The smile left her face. "Just don't give up, okay? Not on me, not on your family, not on any of them."

"I'll promise if you promise," he said, raising his other hand.

They shook hands, and Andromeda pressed a kiss to his wrist. "Let's call it a wish on a star."

Something flashed in the sky and I looked up, expecting to see a plane. Instead, it was the moon. The light of Andromeda's mother became brighter and brighter, covering the forests and empty landscape with white.

Then there was just darkness.

I thought I had gone blind. But then I saw a faint light in the darkness. A ghost, I thought. Maybe it wasn't a wrong assumption. After all, it was a woman, her skin the color of snow walking towards us on pure air. White hair hung from her head, the ends of the strands brushing the pavement even though we were twelve stories above the ground.

Andromeda stood up as the woman approached the roof slowly. The woman - goddess, I suppose - was twice the height of a normal human. She dwarfed her daughter, who appeared to us to be of regular height. Much to my surprise, Andromeda lowered her head. Her eyes looked downwards sadly. Her mother watched her for a moment, then lifted Andromeda's chin.

There were no words said, but years of conversations passed in the air between them. The woman looked down at Jeongguk, and the boy met her eyes. Still, no words were said, but there was a faint flicker of a smile on the woman's face. She let go of Andromeda and turned, walking back off the roof, pausing only when her daughter didn't follow.

We all stared at Andromeda, waiting for her to do something. Eventually, she raised a hand to her mouth and, much to my surprise, laughed. But it wasn't a sad laugh. It was pure, happy. It was the laugh of silver bells I had grown to love.

"I was wrong," she said. It took me a second to realize she was speaking to me, of all people. "I was wrong. I am ruined, but it was worth it." She looked at Jeongguk. "You were worth it."

"What-?" Jeongguk asked, standing up.

"Be seeing you," she said, then ran to her mother, her eyes shining with happiness. As soon as her feet left the roof, she transformed into the beautiful silver hawk we had seen before, and she and her mother flew up and up, into the brilliant night sky, where billions and billions of other stars waited for their arrival.