Perception, Within the Stars

"Are you lost?"

Meyneth had never met this woman before, yet something about her voice seemed odd. A kindred spirit, was it? Is that how she noticed her, a wandering soul in a sea of stars? Another woman who spoke of and to children, but presently addressed none. That is what struck Meyneth as odd: to speak frankly, woman to woman, without the veneer of soothing wisdom. It had, perhaps, been some time since this woman spoke to someone not reliant on her power. The unexpected discovery of camaraderie had tugged down divinity's mask, unveiling a face illuminated by captivating earnestness.

Did Meyneth look the same in the other woman's eyes? Had death cracked her divine mask? After all, she no longer needed to pretend she was soothing and wise, a gentle, protective mother who would see her children through the storm. She... never was that, was she?

Softly, the other woman cupped Meyneth's hand in hers. "Every step of your journey was done with the best intentions," she said -- and Meyneth could hear, see the divine mask slipping over the other woman's face, her broad blue eyes unfocused as they gazed into the heart of the cosmos. Beyond Meyneth.

She felt small, even while in her Machina form, still. Or perhaps it was wiser to say that, in the face of this woman's cosmic confidence, she felt like a failure. The other woman had only known success. She did not know the sorrow of failing her children, of watching them die. She had no familiarity with death!

...didn't she?

(Within those celestial blue eyes, was there... a tinge of pain? A hint of loss? Not of her children, but of someone important; a loss so heavy it weighed upon her lips, making it difficult to smile.)

Celestial blue eyes focused on her once more. The tinge was no longer a hint; it was a present reality. "I am sorry I cannot answer your question," the woman said. "It is one I have asked myself, many times."

"What question is that?"

"Why do people die?"

The veneer of divinity vanished, unveiling what became of a broken, lonely girl. Meyneth placed her free hand on top of the other woman's, understanding the spirit, if not the specifics. "I am sorry as well," Meyneth replied. "You must have lost someone important to you."

The woman shook her head, squeezing the hand she clasped between her own. "I--"

Couldn't think of what to say. It was strange, how Meyneth had just met this woman, yet seemed to understand her. The woman surely sensed their connection as well. To have found a kindred spirit -- it was enough to lift the weight from her lips, allowing her to smile, if but briefly. "Wandering soul, do you seek shelter?"

"As long as I cannot find my way back home..."

"All can be found from the safety of my Observatory. You may rest there while we search."

"And to who may I send my thanks for this respite?"

The woman smiled once more, the weights of grief and knowledge cast off by elation: the elation of finding a kindred spirit, someone who may, someday, understand.

"My name is Rosalina," the woman replied, and the stars shimmered in the beauty of her joy.