It had been a strange realization for the golden child, to realize that she and her twin sister were not their parents’ only children. Of course, they were the only children from Keav and Bastille, as no others existed. Astana had gone searching for Orani, had found her, standing there in a cerulean gown with starry eyes and the same smile as the mother they both shared. It had been some sort of illusion in a way. They had not known their mother to have other children. Their father, they had began to slowly meet their half siblings as they made their way into the desert. Astana realized that she and her twin were not the only ones created of starlight or sand. She wondered then, what made them so special? Sometimes, she still wonders such things.
Astana had always been happy to share the limelight with her sister. Etoile was beautiful in this quiet grace that made her almost as unattainable as the stars above. If there were anyone who physically encapsulate beauty, it would be her twin. Etoile spoke words like poetry and moved like a dancer. Astana believed if she could just be an ounce like her twin, maybe she would be special too.
Maybe, that is why she had come to Beqanna, why she had found Kildare ready to make his move and had latched onto him like pollen to a honey bee. She had looked into eyes of green and thought him wonderful, too wonderful to simply let him wriggle from her grasp. She had walked beside him, inciting stories of adventure. Everyone, it seems, has had an adventure but her. Her mother had lived for so many years, her grandfather had been a pirate of the seas, her father had escaped a dragon. Everyone was out there, living—except for her. Kildare was her ticket, of this she was certain.
Trouble was exactly where Astana had found herself soon after separating from Kildare when they arrived in Beqanna. She had found trouble in the form of a mare named Heartfire. A character in Astana’s story that had discovered the little child made of gold and diamonds and taken her home, kidnapped, but oh so willing to follow her. Astana made a new home in Nerine, following the mare around like any good child does to a mother surrogate. She enjoys asking questions about kingdoms and rulers, about history and tales of old. Hearfire departs wisdom upon the child, many pieces going over her head due to her strong lack of age, but she tries to comprehend none the less, storying the knowledge for another day when Heartfire’s words will ring in her ears and save her from many mishaps as she continues to grow older.
Ears swivel atop her head as she hears the approach of another. She is taken away form her thoughts, back when she had lived in that desert with her family, and brought back to Beqanna, the smell that causes her own nostrils to quiver is familiar. She turns that pretty golden heard of hers and turns diamond eyes in his direction, meeting his own that look like tiny emeralds standing out against his dark skin. “Kildare,” she breathes sweetly against his name as still long, yearling legs begin to move towards him. “I could ask you the same thing,” she says with wide diamond eyes sparkling as the light catches them. “I met someone,” is what Astana says to answer his question. Heartfire has told her time and time again not to trust males. Astana cannot deny though, that Kildare did not seem like those males Heartfire spoke about. “Her name is Heartfire, Queen of Nerine, and I live with her now,” she says, unable to describe what had actually happened. Astana has yet to realized what had occurred had actually been kidnapping. She thinks that Heartfire was merely her new friend, her new guardian to guide her on the journey. “It is really pretty, I could show you sometime,” she offers excitedly, eager to share her home with another. “Where are you now Kildare? Are you still just roaming around?” She asks, little golden ears reaching forward to catch his words. Diamond eyes study his face, his eyes making her think of warm days beneath the shade of a canopy of green leaves, waving out in front of the sun like an emerald cloud.
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