The Fabric of The Sky is ever-changing as it has a unique relationship with both The Astral Paradise and The Realm of No Restriction. It changes color endlessly, but only in accordance with The Sun. It’s textile alters itself to puffer quilt before it rains and transforms into silk right after. The Fabric of The Sky is home to The Stars, the windows into The Realm of No Restriction.

However, the windows are not always reliable as the curtains find a way to obscure them. The Astral People and The Descendants of The Stars adopt Goddess Taji’s solution for this; to launch arrows into the night sky. Now, The Night of the Shooting Stars is the biggest holiday celebrated in The Astral Paradise. It’s a grand opportunity to wish for sweet dreams.

Maia looks through her bedroom window longingly, watching the shooting stars soar through the sky. She closes her eyes to pray at some moments. During others, she stares at the sky doubtfully.

“The Stars probably don’t even hear those kinda prayers,” Maia grumbles.

“Don’t hear what kinda prayers?”

Maia turns around, surprised to see Malik standing in the doorway to her bedroom. He stands almost as tall as the doorframe and is dressed in muted, comfortable clothing perfect for bed. Seeing him here at this time of night means that Thalia is putting baby Alicia to bed. 

Maia’s lips curl into a frown before turning back to the window near her bedside. “Nothing, it’s not that important anyway.”

Malik raises an eyebrow skeptically before plopping himself down on the edge of her bed. A few of the stuffed animals come tumbling down. 

She turns to scold him for it, but Malik says, “Why do you think The Stars can’t hear your prayers? The Stars hear all prayers.” 

“They do?” Maia asks skeptically. 

He nods. “Did… your parents not tell you?” 

Maia shrugs. “It’s not that they didn’t tell me, but I guess it just never came up. Everyone wishes for dreams, so I didn’t think they listened to anything else.” 

“What did you want The Stars to hear?” he asks. 

She looks down at heart patterned sheets with a troubled expression. “I want Daddy to be here.” 

Her words pain him, but Malik throws a look of sympathy her way. “That makes two of us.” 

Maia furrows her brow, confused. “You can just call your dad, can’t you?” 

He laughs. “I meant your dad. I wish he was here too.” 

“So that you don’t have to babysit me?” she asks with a bitter tongue. Guilt pricks her when she watches Malik’s smile falter.  

“Did we make you feel that way?” he asks, worriedly. “I know things have been a little hectic with the new baby, but me n’ Thalia–” 

“Ugh, that’s what I mean,” she huffs, arms raised in frustration. “You guys have your own lives. You guys should’ve went to the festival or something, but instead, you have to stay here with me. Doesn’t that get annoying?” 

Malik looks at her for a moment with an expression she’s unable to read before she feels a calloused hand ruffle mint hair on the top of her head. “What’re you being silly for? ‘Course it doesn’t. Not when you do it for friends, at least.” 

“Friends, huh?” Maia repeats. 

“Of course. That’s why I wish he was here with us too,” says Malik. “And since there’s two of us, I bet The Stars’ll hear us better than if one of us asks.” 

Purple eyes light up in excitement for a moment before Maia frowns and eyes him with a healthy dose of skepticism. “Oh yeah? Just two voices? I’m not a kid no more, Malik.” 

“First of all, you most certainly still are a kid; two digits don’t make you an adult,” Malik says frankly. “And second, why not two voices? You were okay with just one a moment ago.” 

As she struggles to think about what she has to lose, Malik takes hold of her hand. “C’mon. Let’s go look at The Stars in the backyard.” 

She doesn’t fight him as he leads her to the yard illuminated by The Stars soaring through the night sky. They flash bright like fireworks and make melodic sounds like harps when they launch. 

Maia and Malik stand hand in hand while blades of grass tickle bare feet. Their eyes gaze hopefully at The Fabric of The Sky while they pray for the safe return of The Sandman. 

When they finish, Maia turns to Malik and asks, “Do you think it’ll happen? Do you really think he’ll come?” 

“I do.” 

“Before my 12th birthday?” 

Malik grimaces. “Weeeell…” 

“Then when?” Maia insists. 

“I dunno when, but it’ll happen. Just like your opinion on pudding. You’ll come to love it someday,” he sighs. 

Maia scoffs. “It’s not the same; you don’t know nothin’ about nothin’!”

“Nuh-uh, that’s not true,” he argues. “I know it’s time for bed.”

She groans in protest, but Malik hears none of it as he guides her back to the deck. Feet are cleansed thoroughly before stepping back inside of the home. Maia snuggles underneath soft blankets and looks over to Malik standing at the door.

“I know you can see the stars from here, and it’s super exciting, but don’t stay up too late. We gotta up early tomorrow. Heading to the market.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” Maia says almost dismissively.

Malik smirks. “Mhmm, we’ll see if you’ll know to get up on time. Otherwise, I’m leaving you.”

“I’ll be up, I promise–!”

“Shhh!” Malik hisses. “The baby, remember?”

“I’ll be up, I promise,” she whispers this time.

Malik nods. “You better. Goodnight, Maia.”

“Goodnight, Malik.”

The door closes behind Malik with a soft “click”. The Stars catch Maia’s eyes once more, twinkling prettily in the sky. She closes her eyes, praying aloud: 

“If you can hear me, please talk to my mom. Tell her none of this is Daddy’s fault. Maybe she’ll listen to you instead.” 

© 2022 Wayfaring Dreams