Up above, along the lining between Heaven and Earth, a vast ocean of twinkling stars gradually swirl throughout the night's violet abyss.
It's exactly 1:01 in the morning, a specific time that is very precious to little Santana. Even as a toddler, Santana's wide, dark eyes fill with glints of fascination at the littlest of subjects. She has just recently learned to form a complete and proper sentence at the late age of four. In her current living conditions, poor and abused, she has poor a education. Her father has abused her ever since her mother died giving birth.
Psychologically, Santana is injured in dangerous ways from all the bruises and mean words. No one has ever read her a story at night to help her sleep through those terrible nightmares she frequently has. She if fourced to sleep in a small cabin outside the mansion at the pity of her father growing tired of hitting her. Her cabin is one room consisting of a broken bed frame, a worn matress, one lone octagonal window, a few holes in the roof, a dirty fireplace, a chair with uneven legs, and a table.
The time is still 1:01 and the new day is still being born. Santana's tummy grumbles and moans with need for attention. She frowns, regretting eating her piece of bread before when she knows she should have saved it. Her mouth is dry and her throat is soar from crying as she sits on her worn matress. At least there is something she can do about that. After all, it is her birthday today.
Yesterday was a blurr of events for her. All she remembers is King Russell Fabray unexpectingly showing up to her door step with his young daughter, Quinn, along his side.
It's 1:11 in the afternoon and Santana lays with her back flat against her tattered matteress. She drums her slim, little fingers against her tummy as she counts down the breaths to her birthday. Her dark hair is sprawled about around her head with her coal eyes staring up at the ceiling of her cabin. She lets her animate thoughts roam before getting cut shot by a knock to her door.
Panic shot through her at first because her father never comes over to her cabin. They had a deal that as long as she stays within the confines of her cabin he could not strike her. She could hear a man clearing his throat from the opposite side of the door.
"This is your King, dear villager. I request access into your home," comes a booming yet father-like voice.
Nearly all the blood drains from Santana's face the second she heard the word "King". She automatically flew off her bed and scurried over to the door, clutching the latch and swinging it open with one feirce pull. Before her stands a tall, stalky man clad in a royal robe with a sceptor in his hand and a powerful crown upon his head. Alongside him stands a little girl Santana's age.
She has immaculate skin and large hazel eyes. Her hair is long and blonde with perfectly wavy locks trailing down her back. She has two cat ears on either side of her head which is odd for her father seems to be simply mortal; another unusual occurrence itself. Her dark green satin dress is embellished with sparkling jewls and jades, only illuminating her mezmorizing eyes more. She smiles a small, shy smile to Santana with her petal pink lips.
"I understand that tomorrow is your birthday, correct?" The King speaks again, snatching the tan girl's attention one more.
Santana can only meekly nod her head in response, tearing her eyes away from Quinn with a flushed face. The blonde's smile grows a little more confident.
"Aha!" The King heartidly chuckles, placing a hand upon his broad bosom. "Your father and I shall be meeting the day afterwards for bussiness and I urge you to tag along! There shall be a small but reasonable celebration awaiting you. Quinn, wait here with Santana. I shall return shortly, I mustsimply clear plans with her father then we shall depart. Behave you two!"
He left without another word. Santana forced down a gulp, her wide dark eyes meeting Quinn's hazel orbs. The blonde cocked her head to the side slightly.
"Hello," she grins politely, a little amussed by Santana's awkward shuffles.
"Hi," the tan girl returns while casting her head down in a bashful bow. "I like your dress. It's pretty."
Quinn glances down to her attire, feeling bad about how nice she appears compared to Santana's disheveled outfit.
"Thank you," she replies earnestly before continuing. "I hope you come the day after tomorrow with your father. We can play dress up and you can wear all the dresses you want. And we can be friends."
Santana sadly smiles at the ground. Quinn furrows her brows and takes a step towards the girl.
"What's wrong?" She asks in a voice of concern.
Santana simply shakes her head.
"Nothing," she replies with a shrug. "I just—never thought I would make a friend..."
Quinn watches her with those hazel orbs. She can feel the girl's eyes on her and somehow gets a sense of protection under her caring gaze. The blonde take another step and wraps her arms around Santana's tiny frame. She stiffens before relaxing into the girl.
"Me neither."
"QUINN! TIME TO GO!"
The blonde groans, pulling away from Santana with a smile.
"So, the day after your birthday you will come?" Her eyes sparkle with excitement. "Promise?"
Santana timidly smiles back.
"Promise."
Quinn kisses her cheek lightly before hurrying off to her carriage. Santana stands in her open doorway, holding her hand to her cheek with a grin.
Her father watched from a balcony above in his mansion with a dissaporving face and a tapping foot.
Smiling at the memory, Santana throws her body off the bed and proceeds for the foor. With all the might her feeble body can conjure up, she pushes her body forward with each hurried step. Her tiny frame saunters through the crooked cabin door and frees herself into the chilling winter's night. A rush of silver air lifts her thick hair for a moment as her lips tighten with the freeze. She's grown acostum to the cold temperatures so there is no worry. Luck is on her side for she has only gotten sick once and only for a short period of time at that. Her throat continues to constrict with thirst.
It's very hard living in the world she does. For starters, there hasn't been a dawn in over a hundred years. One night just never seemed to end or the sun just gave up hope on this planet. There are tons of theories suggesting why the sun has forsaken its people but none of them really matter. No one wants to know why the sun left them. No one wants to be forgotten.
It's a miracle that Santana's still alive. Four years old, now five, and clad only in baggy shorts, a torn tanktop, and an oversized hoodie that trails down to her flimsy knees, it's amazing she has come this far at all. Her father feeds her very little and the only things she has ever eaten is soup and stale bread. She's tough; she can live like this.
Following the path of large stones she created one summer's nightly morning, she carefully steps on the rocks and avoids the flourescent snow. The pads of her bare feet sting with every take but she likes to think nothing of it. Usually she occupies her mind with stories of fame and fortune to try to take away from the cool surroundings. It works very little but at least it's something.
"Twinkle twinkle little star," her childish voice chimes with each step. "How I wonder what you are. Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky—whoa!"
Suddenly, her foot slipped off a snowy rock and sent her body falling forwards. She roughly collided with the snow's blistering blanket and scrunched her face up with a sharp inhale. Tears began to gloss her dark eyes as she slowly brought her body up with shaking arms. Sitting on her folded legs, she roughly rubs down on her eyes as if she were before a large crowd of people mocking her. If there's one thing she hates most it's baring her weakness; alone or not.
"Stupid, stupid!" She hisses to herself under her breath.
Wiping away any remnents of tears on her roesy cheeks, she finds a light glowing ahead from behind her shut lids. She cautiously peeks her eyes open before gasping and slightly tumbling back. There, before her, hovers a glowing white orb just above the still river.
Santana believed her eyes were deseiving her at first, but when she pinched her side she didn't wake up from any fantasy. Her eyes grow wide as realization washes over her, ears perking back up. This is reality right now and there is a star right in front of her. She could become famous from this discovery, maybe even run away from her wreched home. Countless fantasies pour into her head until she stops herself short. How is she supposed to obtain this star?
Eyes remaining wide in awe and determination, she boldy reaches out with an open palm towards the heavenly object. She gulps as her hand begins to tremble the nearer she gets.
"When the blazing sun is gone," she whispers to herself. "When the nothing shines upon. Then you show your little light. Twinkle, twinkle, all the night..."
Her hand is a mere inch away from touch before she quickly draws back her arm. Holding her hand to her mouth, she bites down on the skin and continues to stare at the ball. She's too scared to touch it. She can't pull through with this.
Hesitantly standing to her feet, Santana continues to shake from the chilling breeze and stare on. If only she could just read out and grab the sphere. She can't seem to pull herself away from it; she hypontized by it's mystery. All she knows is that she wants it but is afraid to get it.
"Then the traveler in the dark," she continues, letting her words wash away in a misty breath. "Thanks you for your tiny spark. He could not see which way to go, if you did not twinkle so..."
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Letting out a heavy exhale, Santana opens her eyes once more and thins her lips. Her hands shot out and grabbed the object as if it were a basketball she stole. Happy to feel no burning sensation or anything bad, she draws the light sphere into her body and wraps her arms around it.
"Yes!" She cheers, jumping up with the object in her arms.
Horror shoots through her when she lands back on her feet. The sphere's light began to dim by the second.
"N-No! Stop!" She cries as she holds the object closer and begins to run back to her cabin. "Wait! Keep glowing! Don't die, I just got you!"
She nearly fell multiple times from the numbness of her legs. The only thing keeping her from doing so is her star. Right now she values that orb more so than she does her life. In the intensity of her race she fails to notice the sillouhette of a figure on the opposite side of the river.
She sprints to her door, spinning in her step to slam into it so it opens. Kicking the door shut behind her, she runs to her bed and jumps up onto it. She clutches the dying sphere in her embrace as she rocks back and forth.
"Don't die! C'mon, you're not trying!" She cries, growing frustrated and angry. "Try harder! Don't die!"
For the second time that night tears fill her eyes. She almost can't believe it herself.
"I just got you! You can't do this!" She sobs now, all her wonderous fantasies falling to ruin.
A lone tear streams down her cheeks, trails to her chin, and falls directly onto the sphere. The tears makes ripples in the sphere as it slowly begins to grow brighter and brighter. Santana watches with wide eyes as the sphere grew and grew in her arms. The light became so bright and big that she had to squeeze her eyes shut and cover them with her scratched palms.
Then the light vanished. There was nothing there though Santana could feel two arms wrapped loosely around her waist. She carefully withdrew her hands from her eyes and opens them.
Sleeping soundly ontop of her was a beautiful blonde girl. She must be mortal for there is no sign of tails or animal ears on her. The only thing different about her is her hair, it's shimmering and simply perfect. Her skin is flawless and her lips are a glossy pink. She's nothing Santana has ever even dreamed of before.
It's just a little uncomfortable since the girl is, well, completely naked.
"Hey, wake up," Santana mumbles, nudging the girl a little. "Wake up already! And get some clothes on! It's freezing!"
The blonde girl sighs, smiling in her sleep as she curles her arms more tightly around Santana.
"Hey! What do I look like to you?" Santana grunts, trying her best to sound dissaproving. "You're not a star! I thought you were a star."
She recives no reply in return, the blonde only snuggles more deeply into her body. She couldn't help but notice how warm the angelic girl is. It feels as if she's being wrapped around in the most comfortable, cozy blanket made for only the finest of queens. Thank God the girl is probably her age and appears to be harmless. Otherwise this situation could have been a huge problem.
Giving up on her fight after awhile of being ignored, she made her way into unconsciousness.
This is my first fic, I would really like your opinion! Please note the rating WILL change eventually to M for language, sexual content, nudity, and all that stuff. If you have any suggestions or questions or anything you can message me here or on my tumblr (there's a link in my biography). I don't like leaving little things like this after or before a chapter so I will do this rarely but any of the times I do it's probably something serious or important. Dark themes may appear later on as well but I'm not sure yet. I apologize for any mistakes. I hope you enjoyed!