You may have seen another version of this. If so, I apologize. That version sucked. But I've come over and revamped stuff, and I have more of a plan now! So yeah, expect this one to be better. Hopefully.

One year later…

Starflight was many things. An author, a librarian and a scientist to name a few. But currently, he was simply bored out of his mind. With all the students in class, there was absolutely nothing to do for an hour. And so of course, to pass the time, Starflight decided to do what he had always done when bored (and when there were no scrolls to read): think. Think about literally anything, about literally everything. Back in the cave, when he got bored of reading the same scrolls over and over again, he would just let his mind wander

Hrm. Starting this. The hardest part.

… Just like rewriting every single damn book in this library into… a book.

…Or maybe not the hardest part. Whatever, then.

Thinking that, Starflight's hand almost hurt from the memory. It was painful, painstakingly copying every single word in the scroll into a book, and tracing over the drawings. They weren't even done yet, and he had Fatespeaker (and sometimes his siblings) to help him.

Hey, at least I'm not doing it alone. That would be a disaster.

His mind went randomly to a fun little scroll he had to copy recently: a piece of fiction regarding the happenings if the Eye of Onyx hadn't been stolen. Needless to say, many lives were saved. Starflight suspected the author was actually a soldier who had lost many, and used this to communicate a message: that war tore apart families and relationships.

Just like it did for us.

But then… it made us grow up, too.

When we had to save the whole world from the war and the Nightwings' plan…

He smiled with amusement. History was built upon a single random occurrence, it seemed.

Because the Eye of Onyx was stolen, the whole war happened as no one knew who was the true heir the Eye would choose. And thus, the entirety of modern Pyrrhia was built upon this one thing, which happened more than 20 years ago. It was funny, in a way. Starflight didnt know why.

Just imagine if some other weird thing changed. Maybe if Battlewinner didn't die, or if Scarlet was killed by the venom. Or anything. Literally anything. Maybe there's one world where I'm happy with Sunny…

Well, crap. He wasn't supposed to think that. Now, all the thoughts and feelings would rush in, and he wouldn't be able to do anything for a few hours.

Shit.

Of course, now it was all coming back. The funny heartbreak feeling (it actually made his chest hurt, somehow) and all of his fantasies and the moping. It all wore off after about 20 minutes, but the feeling lingered, and made doing anything hard. (unless it involved being sad and/or not doing anything)

Well. I'm in this mess now, what do I do to get out of it?

Distracting himself would work. It had before. But what to use? Earlier, it had worked because Icicle had tried to kill him, but he couldn't replicate that.

Maybe I should go to my cave and see what I can find…

After telling Fatespeaker he was going off for a bit, Starflight reached his cave. It wasn't too large or too small, and was quite cosy. The entire left wall (from the entrance) was occupied by a low table, for mainly his own scrolls he wrote instead of school paperwork, because he was the librarian and didn't need to mark anything. (unlike Webs, for example, who had to mark many essays every single day, pretty much.) Next to it was a ceiling-to-floor bookshelf which he designed himself, which actually had more scrolls than books in it. His sleeping mat lay on the right along with his chest of random things that he was too lazy to actually organize. Windows on the back and right walls let in light, and the door leading to his experiment cave was ajar, like it always was. Starflight entered the room, and randomly selected a scroll from the bookshelf. Perhaps reading would help. So he lay on the sleeping mat and unfurled the scroll, beginning the story. And it seemed to work at first– he stopped thinking about Sunny, and started thinking about the story's events. But then of course he had to make one connection to him and Sunny. And everything broke again.

Starflight sighed. These things… they work so well. But then, you ruin one thing, and you immediately lose all of your progress. It sucks. This sucks.

He then tried writing, which he liked to do sometimes. Not actual stories, more like short, concise outlines and timelines along with the occasional drawing. And once again, it worked! But then he got tired, took a break and after 10 minutes he realised he wasn't paying attention anymore. Starflight sighed again.

Why is it so easy to get in… but so hard to get out? I know if you do something you'll forget eventually… but just focusing on that one thing is impossible. I hate this.

Maybe I should just stop trying and let my mind do whatever it wants. Maybe it'll work…

He lay down and curled up on the mat, closing his eyes.

If only. Why…?

Why? Yes, she only sees me as a brother but why?

Hrm. Did we even know anything about love back then?

Heh…

I know I loved her back then, but now? No. It has to be, but maybe not.

It seems I still don't understand love, eh?

Who does? You never understand love. You just… know. Somehow. It's a feeling. No way to describe. So different from everything else, ever.

Suddenly, the sound of the gong reverberating through the halls of the academy woke him up. Shaking himself out of his reverie, Starflight woke himself up, and then walked back to the library. He would need to man it for 15 minutes, and then it was back to another hour of nothing. But he was right: it had helped. He wasn't thinking about it so much now that he'd gotten a chance to actually think about it. It wasn't all gone yet, but it was beginning to.

I should go down to the experiment cave tonight. Just to… well, I don't know. Maybe I should start documenting the constellations each tribe made. What they call them. And it seems that Pantalan stars are different, so maybe I could do them too? Whatever. Pyrrhian stars first. Maybe I can find out why we see different stars on the different continents…

Starflight brightened slightly. He had already succeeded: he had changed the subject. Now he just had to keep it that way, and not linger on this thought.

Right. So, I should probably be able to write some stuff tonight first, then I can go out into flatland and see all the stars…

Cometchaser was nervous. Of course he was, it was his first long flight alone! As he continued waiting and lying on the couch in the living room. (not much had to be packed; plus, he had done all the preparations the previous day.) Finally, his father, Nightwatcher, arrived in the room.

"Comet? You done?"

He rolled his eyes. "I was done a long time ago, you know we don't need to pack food! And you took so long."

"But what if you can't hunt?" Comet resisted the urge to shout at his father. Of course he could hunt!

"I can hunt father, stop it!"

His father chuckled and shook his head. "I know. It's just…"

"You're worried."

"Yeah. It's your first long solo, after all. But I know you, and I know you're going to ace it. But still, take care, because I won't rest until I know that you are."

Cometchaser nodded his head in confirmation of his statement.

"I will, dad, don't worry."

"You know where to go?"

He sighed exasperatedly. "Of course, I chose the location! It's Jade Mountain. I'm going to Jade Mountain."

"Great! Now let's go." Nightwatcher said in the most annoyingly cheerful voice.

Through the veneer of cheeriness, Cometchaser could almost read his father's thoughts. His parents actually had mind walls (when you lived with a mindreader, that sort of became a thing you just picked up) but they seemed to weaken when they were feeling something strongly, like nervousness or fear.

Please, let– back. I– bear to– him.

I– if he's r– ing my thoug–ts.

For the last sentence, his father seemed to lift his mind-wall just for a few seconds.

Stay safe, son. If you die I swear, I will bring you back and kill you again.

He smiled. "I won't die. I promise."

His father smiled back at him, acknowledging that he had done it on purpose.

Cometchaser actually had a small secret. He had had a vision: it showed him, flying outside Jade Mountain, talking with a Skywing and an Icewing. Then another scene, in a cave lit by lantern light, talking with another Nightwing. And yet another scene, of him, the same Nightwing, and a Sandwing with no tail barb and golden scales. He didn't understand them, but he knew they were at Jade Mountain. And that he needed to go there. Alone.

I wonder what it's about. Huh, I guess I'll just find out when I get there.

"Comet? Ready? Okay, you can take off."

He unfurled his wings, stretching them, before checking that his bag was secure and wouldn't slip off. That done, Cometchaser jumped, and flapped his wings hard before gliding away from his home, towards the mountains in the north and the larger range splitting Pyrrhia in two beyond, flying into the midday sun.