Warmth of Stars

These days, Elokaia spends most of her time secluded in her rooms. Her mood swings, typical for this time of year, make us thankful that she does. But that doesn’t stop me from feeling bad for her.

She’s usually very wise, our queen of the night sky, but summer is a complicated season for her. It’s when she starts to be tormented more by dark spirits, and when she gets the support she needs for the year from her partner, Moludan. As our king of the sun, he’s off and about for most of the year, but during the Sirius Days, he comes to visit and support Elokaia in her struggle while he’s at his most powerful.

As Sirius glides into position, I enter Elokaia’s chambers. The eggplant-colored walls make the room feel gloomy despite the bright starlights, and the black velvet floor mutes my footsteps. “Elokaia?” I murmur with hesitation. She doesn’t make any noise at first, hunched over in her bed, but as I approach, she whips around to glare at me.

“Get out of here, servant!” she screeches, luminescent hair astray. Her wide true-black eyes are missing their usual blue-tinted spark.

I stand my ground. “It’s time.”

“Oh,” Elokaia mutters, and moves to get out of bed. I go to help her.

Finally, we’re ready to appear before court.

Elokaia sweeps into the court in her typical dress: a crushed silk dress under a soft wool cloak, both a true black that makes her starry skin look dark blue in comparison. I trail behind, as befitting my position as personal handmaid, and offer my hand to help her onto the dais. Her skin is velvety, but her bones are cold as stone underneath it.

She slouches on her throne, waiting for Moludan.

The official skywatcher claims that Sirius is in place, and the silence of expectation falls on the court.

Then the great dark moonstone-studded doors open.

And Moludan strides in, literally lighting up the room.

It’s been eleven months since the court has felt his presence, and everyone leans towards the powerful warmth he gives off, especially Elokaia, his beloved.

“Moludan,” she breathes.

“Elokaia,” he says, and his voice carries through the hall.

She rises to meet him.

His wiry arms wrap around her, holding her close – her head only comes up to his chest. His long light yellow scarf drifts onto her hair. They pull apart, and Moludan holds her at arms’ length to admire her. His gold eyes catch the light, and he breaks into a fire opal grin, putting a smile on her face for the first time in a few months. “I missed you, Elokaia...my star.”

During an average day’s frustrations, Elokaia stands side by side with Moludan, gives her obsidian smile, and takes deep breaths...but the effort to do so takes a toll on her. When I’m her only audience, I see her struggle. But I take the sarcasm and the screams and the silence, because I know that’s just the dark spirits’ influence.

However, we both know that she can’t hold them off forever.

In the ballroom, Elokaia’s true-black dress looks good next to Moludan’s golden yellow draped kurta. The color combination used to surprise me, but not anymore. The flecks on his tunic throw prismatic light around the ballroom, and his sleeves are rolled up to the elbow. They usually dance circles around everyone else on the floor, but not tonight. They remain in the middle.

Then Elokaia drops to her knees so suddenly that I can hear them thump on the floor. There’s a collective gasp, but no one moves towards her except Moludan and myself.

I know what has happened.

She does this almost every year.

She tries to hold off the dark spirits herself, without relying on Moludan to help her when she beats them back for the year.

Her beloved holds her up. She’s shaking. I push through the crowd to reach her side.

“Elokaia...” he sighs, and turns to me with a look of mild concern, his eyes a kaleidoscope of color.

I reach for her, but she shrieks and jerks out of his grasp, and away from my hand, to sprawl on the floor. I sigh as well.

“Moludan,” she finally whispers, calling to him. She reaches for him and he pulls her close, his majestic glow dimming.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs. Elokaia sighs, but doesn’t relax the death grip she has on his arm.

The entire court watches in near silence as Elokaia writhes and cries out in Moludan’s embrace. Even when she digs her nails into his cream-colored skin, he does nothing more than squeeze his eyes shut.

She finally lets go and gets to her feet. Her eyes glow white, and her head is held high.

The next day, the celestial pair enter the court, separating only to go to their respective places. Elokaia sits on her throne, and Moludan on his. She holds out her hand, and he takes it once more. She gives his hand a squeeze, then lets go and turns to face her first justice case of the year.

Moludan’s time with Elokaia lasts only a few weeks each year, so in their final week together, she starts to drift away from him. Even when she stumbles, she refuses his outstretched hand. But most of the time, she no longer needs his help. She stands straighter now, her physical weakness gone, and her mood swings may as well be nonexistent.

The day eventually comes when Moludan must leave, according to the position of the stars. Elokaia reaches up to ruffle his dark honey-colored hair, and strands of gold catch the light. He smiles, and she lets him go, knowing he’ll come back next year when she needs him the most.

The court seems darker without Moludan to brighten it with his glow, but the starlight is a peaceful reprieve from his intensity. Elokaia is quiet in the first few weeks, but she soon returns to her usual self: wise, level-headed, and generous. She rules well, our queen of the night sky.

Elokaia is hosting yet another gathering for tonight, and she’s been talking about it all week. It’s hard work, keeping up with her during the winter months, but I enjoy it.

Another thing I noticed...her bones are no longer stone-cold. They’re as warm as Moludan’s glow.