Silverlight Terrace I see you standing there, but you’re so far away

Dying Sun.

Though time slowed, his heartbeat quickened. Even her voice had grown with her! And how the gentleness lined the name she had given him when they had first met here upon the terrace. He wished for her to say it again, and again, and though he still did not know the meaning, he knew he had been remembered.

She had remembered him.

And a strange feeling overwhelmed him. She had remembered him, and somehow, that was enough.

His body felt as though it filled with starlight as she leapt by him to enter their dance. The audience, the heavens, and their stage, the terrace and the trees that dotted the pathway towards the foggy Weald.

And Melaneus followed, running behind her, or weaving through adjacent trees to the path she chose, or risking to run alongside her, closer than he'd ever been. He risked this now, and he looked to her, and found himself with very few words to adequately describe the woman he saw in the girl he'd once known.

Where he was shadow, she was light; where he was darkness, she shone brighter.

Asterioú, he whispered to her, as though a secret he gave to her between his steady breaths. Starflower. A name more fitting than Moongirl now.