Chapter 7: Second Star to the Wrong
The headmaster of Fantasia School for the Magically Skewed waited on his balcony, looking up. Surrounded by a forest of stone towers, gargoyles, and buttresses he could only see a sliver of the night sky.
But it was the only sliver he needed to see.
One little star sat in that particular sliver of night sky. As the headmaster watched, without the aid of his telescope, the little star shivered. The headmaster's heart cried for the little star as it trembled, sprinkling tears of stardust into the ocean.
Then it happened.
The little star broke. It shattered, splitting in half. Shards of white light skittered together like grains of salt, slowly collecting on the midnight canvas.
The headmaster lowered his head. As he waited, he was joined by a small, silent crowed. It was difficult to discern the newcomers in the dark. But a glimpse was all that was necessary to recognize old companions. To the left were two lanky legs attached to buck teeth, and a feathery scowl attached to incoherent complaints. To the right were two black velvet ears and a soft smile, attached to two sympathetic eyes. At her side was his panting best friend, attached to a wagging tail. Directly behind emerged a magical trio, red, green, and blue, and they were followed by a magical duo, both white haired and wearing starry blue robes that perfectly matched the wings of the tall lady behind them. At the outskirts two felines prowled the night sky, one the color of gold and the other ebony hued. The grand animals were trailed by two more, one with a crooked coconut staff and the other with crooked antler crown. Seven stumpy figures filed in, one by one, just as a stream of whispering willow leaves breathed life into three gargoyles and a cricket hopped onto the headmaster's shoulder. A witch with a boa snaked through the crowed, carefully stepping over the toes her blind eyes could not see. Finally, and with much reluctance, a dragon came, nervously reciting poetry.
All stared at the night sky.
And when the headmaster returned his gaze to the sky, the deed had been done.
To the right of the little star, now half as little, was a second star.
"The second star to the right."
The headmaster closed his eyes. "The second star to the wrong."
Breaths were breathed sharply. A cloud of whispers hovered over the headmaster.
"Early, I dare say. The splitting was not scheduled for another 500 years."
"Troubles, oh yes, we've got them –what."
"Look at the star. It is watching us."
"Bright as a jewel. Bright as a diamond."
"Garsh."
"Great evil…"
"But also great good. Remember…the students."
Someone blew like a bazooka. But reference of the students oriented the group once more to a state of calm.
"The students…" purred a deep voice, "…will you tell them tomorrow, Headmaster? Tomorrow…will they…choose?"
"Yes and no." The Headmaster spoke swiftly, providing little pause for doubt. Cogs clicked between his ears as a thousand calculations added exponentially in his head.
"Yes and no?" said a sweet voice. The headmaster quivered, grateful that the night hid his blush. He turned. Two concerned eyes stared at him through thick lashes. "Headmaster...what does that mean?"
"Easy," another voice cackled gently, "We tell them what they neeeeeeeed."
The headmaster nodded. He placed gloved hands on the railing. The gargoyles tilted respectfully as the headmaster spoke, almost to himself. "Yes. Only what they need to know…for now."
He gazed at the twin stars, unable to consider them blessings or omens. "For the present, let them continue to be happy. Let them continue to be…just to be…"
The stars glowed, long after the crowd dispersed and the headmaster stood alone to watch the shadows slowly gathering behind the white light.