“Your hand is shaking.”

She paused, holding the appendage out in front of her only to see for herself that, yes, her hand was shaking and quite heavily at that. Her gaze turned toward the window, taking in the vibrant green grass, the rivers that shimmered under the setting sun in hues of purple, and the torches that burned blue within her town folks' hands as they moved from place to place with jubilant energy.

Smiles. That was all she could see. This was supposed to be a joyous day; perhaps the most joyous day of the entire year, for it was the annual Star Festival. A day meant to celebrate the Wishing Star that had landed in Tivonia all those years ago and the goddess that’d blessed them and looked out for them to allow such fortune. 

Her adrenaline was high but for the opposite reason it should be. She wasn’t happy. She wasn’t excited. She felt something she hadn’t felt in a while, a feeling that irritated her more than anything.

She felt dread.

“Shakara?” Vivienne turned around to stare her in the eyes. Her excitement had quickly drifted into concern. “What’s wrong?”

She fixed her face into its most blank state she could muster, pulling her hands away from Vivienne’s hair with a sigh to cross them over her chest. Her brows furrowed as she watched the beginnings of a braid begin to come loose. 

“Nothing.” She wanted to tell her the truth, that something wasn’t sitting right in the pit of her stomach, but she also didn’t want to take away from Vivienne's experience. This was going to be her first time experiencing the festival, after all. “I’m just not feeling too well.”

Vivienne frowned, chewing at her bottom lip. It took a moment, but eventually she once again spoke up. “Think it’s because of the food I cooked yesterday?”

Shakara cocked an eyebrow. “No. I already told you it was fine.”

“Royal told me, and I quote, that eating something I made is 'a risk she'll never take again'.”

Shakara fought the grin that threatened to take over her face.

“It’s her opinion, not mine.” 

Vivienne twisted around to glance outside of the window when a knock sounded at the door. Leaning forward and pushing the curtains further aside with the tip of her finger, Vivienne murmured, “looks like Radeyah.”

Shakara couldn’t say she was surprised. Even though they hadn’t discussed her visit prior, she’d already found herself anticipating it. Before she could move to get the door, Royal emerged from her bedroom to welcome Radeyah in Shakara's place. 

Royal's movement was nowhere near rushed. She almost looked like a ghost strolling across the room with pale, silver eyes contrasted greatly against brown skin, the back of her head shaved low but the rest left long on top and styled in a few thick braids. The length, pulled high in a ponytail, flew out behind her with every smooth, graceful step, but that was barely worth mentioning. Her eyes were the main attraction, more vibrant than perhaps even the morning sun.

No. Maybe vibrant wasn’t the right word for it. Her eyes emitted a bright glow in a way all Daemiun’s eyes tended to. If it were dark, her eyes would be vivid enough to illuminate a small length of space before her. Sometimes, her eyes were beautiful.

Other times, they were as haunting as watching life fade from a loved one’s eyes.

Shakara watched as Royal pulled open the door, leaning against the chair in which Vivienne sat.

Sparring a quick and lively greeting to Royal, Radeyah practically burst through the door with a basket in one hand and what appeared to be a dress in the other.

Shakara’s eyes narrowed. 

“Glad I managed to catch you before you guys headed out!” Radeyah exclaimed with a pant, setting the basket aside and taking in the state of dress they were all in. She shook her head with an exasperated sigh. “By Cieon's grace, I should have known. You didn’t even bother to dress the kids up? And what happened to Vivienne’s hair?”

“I was in the middle of doing it,” she explained in simple terms, watching in slight amusement as Vivienne reached up to feel for herself what a mess her hair was.

“I don’t know what I was expecting. You’ve never gotten into the spirit for this festival, have you?” She tossed the garment of clothing in Shakara's direction. She caught it easily before it could hit the ground. “I only brought something for you, and now the kids are gonna look boring and plain. You’re supposed to go all out for the Star Festival! Dress in bright obnoxious colors, decorate your face in dazzling, glowing paints, show a little skin... Do something. But instead, you have these kids dressed as if they’re simply going to the market for a loaf of bread.”

"Gee, do we look that bad?” Vivienne frowned, glancing down at her attire.

Shakara sighed. Radeyah wasn’t wrong. They were both dressed plainly in solid-colored shirts and basic trousers, as was she. As plain as could be. Shakara held the dress out in front of her, taking in the loud but pretty patterns, the low cut V in the front, the slit on the side, and the muted, velvet red against the glaring gold throughout.

“You want me to wear this?” Shakara asked and she couldn’t erase the skepticism from her voice if she deliberately tried. “It practically hides nothing but the things that don’t need to be hidden.”

“Exactly,” Radeyah said with a smile. “Be thankful. I just barely talked myself out of bringing you one that was far more revealing and bright. That’s nothing.”

“What about us?” Vivienne asked, a pout still prominent on her face. “We’re totally gonna stick out but for the wrong reasons.”

“I’m fine with that,” Royal shrugged. 

“Of course you are! Your eyes alone are gonna make you stand out more than anyone!”

“Don’t worry,” Radeyah said, pulling out colorful jars from her basket. “I brought some glow paint with me. I’ll paint your faces.”

For all of Radeyah’s energy, the moment she got to work on their faces she did so in relative silence. Shakara invested the rest of her own quickly expending energy on redoing Vivienne’s hair while Radeyah painted a neat bunch of flowers on Vivienne's face with white paint. It was a quick and simple job allowing her to move on to do the same for Royal. She painted a tiny crescent moon at the side of her left eye in purple paint. It was the only thing she was willing to settle for after a round of bickering with the woman. 

Shakara tied Vivienne’s finished hairdo— large braids pulled back at the nape of her neck in two buns— off with two black ribbons. With some hesitancy, she finally went to try on the dress Radeyah had gifted her when the woman refused to quit nagging her to do so. Radeyah helped her into the garment, stepping back to take in the way it hugged her body as Shakara shifted uncomfortably.

“Give me a spin,” Radeyah urged, gesturing her finger in a twirl motion. Shakara ambivalently did as requested. She grinned excitedly for a reason Shakara didn’t entirely understand until she exclaimed, “it fits perfectly! Cieon, I’m good at what I do.”

“You say that as if this is your career,” Shakara scoffed, running her hands down her sides in surprise at how true Radeyah’s statement truly was. “This looks better than I thought it would.”

“You don’t give your body enough credit,” Radeyah said. “Give me a sec to get my paint. I’ll paint some symbols where the fabric doesn’t cover.”

Shakara listened without so much as another word. Ironic, in many ways, considering Shakara had more power than Radeyah would ever know what to do with. That power extended to the zestful woman, but never in the privacy of her home. She watched as Radeyah exited the room to procure her basket before reemerging to get to work. 

Radeyah painted a variety of symbols down her thigh and leg where the cut in her dress opened, a few down either of her arms, and finally some across her collarbone. Radeyah never let her fingers dip too low, there, leaving the space around her cleavage bare out of what Shakara assumed to be respect. Nonetheless, the gold paint Radeyah used complimented her dress wonderfully and, once again, Shakara was briefly awed.

“Where do these even come from?” Shakara couldn’t help but ask.

Radeyah paused, staring up at her from where she kneeled on the ground. She’d been applying glitter around the patterns until Shakara had spoken, and now she looked just as stunned as Shakara was.

“The symbols? They’re from Cieon’s Testament,” she answered. “I thought you were Mundist.”

“I am,” Shakara attempted to explain even though it had been a statement rather than a question. “I’m just not as in touch with faith as you are, I guess.”

“This have anything to do with why you never attend the Star Festival?”

“No. I’ve just never been interested enough.”

“Mm.”

Radeyah finished up in silence and the second she applied the last stroke of glitter, she hurriedly offered Shakara a small mirror to take in her appearance. 

“Like it?” Radeyah whispered, taking it upon herself to continue adjusting parts of her outfit. She reached up to twist a strand of dark hair— the gentle waves of her bangs hanging over her forehead— around her finger, smiling as it fell beautifully in place with the rest.

“It’s… beautiful,” Shakara muttered, “but you don’t think it’s too much to be prancing around the outdoors all evening?”

“You’re meant to stand out,” Radeyah encouraged. She was fluffing out her hair now which, in all honesty, felt unnecessary. Her hair was cut short around the back and sides and left just a little bit longer on top. The cut along with her shaved sides were purposely meant to require very low maintenance. She figured this was probably something that Radeyah simply wanted, so she let her do as she pleased without complaint. “That’s the point."

"Mm?"

 She saw Radeyah's smile in the reflection of the mirror. 

"To stand out like a group of stars glinting in an otherwise dark sky.”