Chapter 47 🔻 Star Child

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I wanted to scream

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I wanted to scream.

No matter how far I ran, I couldn't escape this never-ending realm of ebbing and flowing red nebulas and whirling stars. The rolling black dunes of the Dark were absent, replaced by an unstirring sea that stretched from horizon to horizon, and though the water rippled as I ran across it—disturbing the reflection of the star-speckled sky—I never fell below the surface. There was no escape.

But the worst part was that aside from my appearance mirrored in the pool beneath me, I was utterly and completely alone in this world.

"Hello?" I yelled. My voice echoed far and wide with no answer, and I was about ready to tear my hair out in frustration. I slowed to a stop, and the rippling sea became as still as a mirror. At my feet, Skye Rhee glared up at me. Her eyes were feral and dark, her clothes tattered and her hair a mess. I fell to my knees on the water so we could get a better look at each other. Last time I'd seen her, she had that faint white glow within her pupils, but that Light was now absent. I bunched up my hands into fists, and she did, too.

I was dead. We both were.

Dead dead.

When I couldn't stand to see my frazzled reflection anymore, I looked upward instead. The tremendous black void I'd gotten used to was now filled with color. Was this where dead ghosts went? I didn't see my friends here anywhere. Amongst the nebula clouds, a serpent of pulsating, dancing crimson light swam amongst the stars. Every once in a while, a flash of white or gold would glisten through the red like embers. I sighed, entranced by the ribbons in the sky. Somehow, the flickering stars looked more colorful, more vibrant, and more alive to me...

"Hello, Skye."

I nearly leaped out of my spectral skin when a voice piped up.

Another ghost sat cross-legged atop the water's surface, yards away. Weird. He wasn't there before. He looked young, but his outfit consisting of a simple, baggy tunic, woolen pants, and leather boots looked dated, practically medieval looking. He kept his face turned downward, and I couldn't see his eyes through his ginger hair. A halo hovered above his head, like Tamzi and the ghosts of Aḫ-ḫur, but his halo was lux-red and fizzled and sparked like an unstable electric current.

I approached the boy. "Hi?"

He didn't answer. He just kept staring up at the stars reflected in the pool, enrapt in silent conversation with the un-feeling specks.

I squinted at his round, freckled face—a face that I'd last seen dying in Tamzi's arms. "You're Albrecht!"

At that, the boy finally looked from the water, and I drew back in shock. His eyes—his father's eyes—had been replaced by two glowing pearls of lux. His tone was as flat as the water as he said, "Albrecht Blackburne. I know."

"I'm—"

"Skye Rhee." He looked back to the water. "I know."

With nothing else to do, I sat beside him. He didn't acknowledge me. His red eyes never once blinked. "You died," I said.

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