★ THE FALLEN STAR

What did it take to be a star?

A luminary light that embellishes the admiral seas of the night. A gleam of brilliance that anyone, no matter how far, can see. One need not be a foot away to gaze upon it's beauty in admiration.

That was what he was made to be. That was what he 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 to be.

A star to illuminate the path for the mortals lead astray. A radiance one can avert their gaze unto and remember that the darkness that they are cossetted in is not the work of eternity. That the light, no matter its size, will always exist. Candidly; a form of divinity. A god - an archon. A sanctuary of 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 to those who have just 𝘴𝘰 long to live through the junctures of their life. That was Kunikuzushi's purpose. As a puppet to the Archon of Eternity herself, it was his impetus to be a vessel at the Archon's disposal, and to help the people of Inazuma. He was made for nothing more, and for nothing less.

Just as the cerulean seas he'd peer upon above him had countless luminesces adorn its veil - he could only hope that their family would be the same. A family of stars; each shining a path from every stretch and angle of the sky; leaving no man by his fear-filled lonesome.

Alas, 'hope', can only get you so far. It can only last so long - and certainly, not to the expanse of the Eternity his mother sought after. No ... far from it. She shared not his frame of mind nor his notions - a family of stars? Was he the vessel of an Archon, or was he a juvenile child; threading between a web spun by the various anecdotes he'd heard from a certain Priestess of the Grand Narukami Shrine? Perhaps it was one of the many reasons his mother deemed him unfit of being the bearer of the Gnosis. His child-like demeanor, holding onto a finch's slant of life - as those repulsive and ingenuous tears would stain his porcelain skin.

He was 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘬. Enervated and infirm; as though within him was an abundance of human emotions that Ei adjudged to be contemptible. Kunikuzushi was not worthy of being a divine vessel. Above all, it was 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘩 that mattered to her. And not once had he the ability to exhibit the robustness nor the ascendancy that possessed within another - the Raiden Shogun. Compared to her, he was 𝘯𝘰𝘵 a star. It was a farce to even ruminate such a thought. For what grace he may have held unto; just as nectar in a sieve - it was hanging by the threads laid thin between the tips of his fingers. Until, imperceptibly, the strings he so desperately clung onto were loosened from his grasp.

And, so was he. No longer were the threads of Ei inlaid to his body and soul; as he, just as a falling star, 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭 from his divinity and, most exigently; from the tender inclination of the one whom he called his 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.

Nevertheless, a falling star never truly ceases its passage of wandering until it has reached the end - does it?

Though by the sound of it, a falling star may seem no more than lusterless and sombre, it could not be further from the truth. Such a sight was resplendently opulent in the eyes of a mere mortal; the pain that beseeched him was sumptuous to those who resided by the plains of Tatarasuna. A fall as thunderous as his was - to his kismet - perceptible to the human eye.

It was why his sojourn in the Shakkei Pavilion only lasted a moment's worth of a time.

For they; the people who referred to him as 'Kabukimono' - they saw him nothing more than one of their own. They never queried the eccentric wanderer of his whereabouts - and only escorted him to their plebian settlement in Tatarasuna. A life in simple solitude and tranquility, where they celebrated their harvests, their culture - their 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴; lives, that Kabukimono was invocated an invite to, with a fondness which made him reminisce the life he had once lead. A fondness that reminded him of a home that he could now never return to. Yet, he would have been fine with that fact. He would have been fine with it if he could stay like this, with them for, eons to come.

He 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 been fine with it.

So, why?

Why must that raging tempest exhort upon him and his new-found family? Upon the people of Tatarasuna, who once welcomed him with open arms? The same arms that now prod him away from their homes - consumed with a fear-filled trepidation Kabukimono never once realized he was able to inflict one with. They saw him as nothing but an 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. An obscenely monstrous being who veiled himself in a portrayal of an aberrant wanderer, with no where to call his home. He 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥 them, and by no means was he worthy of their camaraderie.

He was nothing but a fallen star, after all. Not a human, nor a star - what significance had he over their lives? And as the deluge grew denser, so too, did he. With each betrayal he had to adhere to, the brilliance that once kindled within him was now running cold. As somber as a night in a pouring rain - a cloud-filled sky where the stars seem to shun him away, leaving him in all but his fear-filled lonesome. This constant desertion and rejection ... he was 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬 of it. He was 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬 of those mortals that could not bear to hold their word of honour. He was 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬 of the radiant Archons who sat upon their thrones in the sky - enduring not a simple glance at his fatuous state. Not even she, his 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, would do so much as to concern herself about his whereabouts.

He was 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘬. He was 𝘨𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦. He hinged on the ineffectual words woven by the astute mortal beings. To provide him an abode - a 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦. Just what was he thinking? To believe such spiteful lies … Had he not learned anything? Truly, he was not worthy of being the bearer of the gnosis. Not until he becomes a clean, blank slate - a worthy vessel for the power of divinity and eternity. It didn't matter whether a fallen star can rise to surpass the clouds yet again. It didn't matter until he made his own endeavors to do so. To become the wielder of the gnosis, and rise to the halls of divinity that he was meant to be in. It didn't matter how long it would take - for he will, someday, indulge in the vehemence that remained clasped within the chains of despondency - sealed away from his grasp.

...

She heaved a sigh, as the sparks of Dendro that had once adjured through the tips of her fingers soon began to faint - just as the the hand that grazed his forehead lifted itself up; now, away from the unconscious body that laid before her, and disparating herself from his subconscious musing. The Balladeer was still. He was an insentient vessel; not, for a Supreme Gnosis, but rather, a vessel that he veiled himself with - away from any contact from another.

Weeks had passed since the ghastly altercation, where the mauve-haired male that laid before her succumbed to a 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭; loosing all means of responsiveness. Whilst the Archon herself had no credence that he would survive such a fall - she was soon proven wrong. Though he may be but a vacant husk; 𝘩𝘦 was still there.

"Whilst I'd rather be the moon … I will make an exception for you," Kusanali spoke, taking a seat next to the unconscious body of the former harbinger. "Sure, stars can shine gleam throughout the night. But have you ever thought of the fact that … people are much more fond of falling stars? They place much more trust in them that you might have recollected," She spoke quietly, as her hands would shift to take ahold of his own, clasping them together. "It's such a curious thing! For them, it's divinity that came to visit them in their humble abodes," She continued forth; as the sparks of Dendro illuminated the dimmed room; sprouts of leaves shrouding themselves close by to the harbinger's hands. "Your presence is substantially virtuous in their eyes."

"When I was confined to a kindred state as you are at the moment, everything felt .. uncertain. It was dark, with nothing but the pitch black surrounding me throughout. It isn't the most gratifying of memories for me," The ashen explained, letting out an almost sheepish chuckle as she spoke.

"So, until you're back on your feet, why don't I help you helm through your consciousness, and become your North Star? ".

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