May 13th, 2018 by Patrick Starks 

Emery was once one of the most beautiful stars of the night sky. She twinkle twinkled, yet she was not a little star, not in the slightest. She was much larger than all the rest, and for that, she was not hard to spot out. And she was only one hundred years old you see, which was much younger than the other the stars that soared around her and over the seven seas. And for these reasons, these so-called others would hate poor Emery more than anything. Indeed, she was, in fact, a star; however, others would argue that she hogged the spotlight a little too often if you catch thy drift.

And for many years of the light, Emery would twinkle twinkle on her own, as many did not want to do so with her, at least not on their own. It wouldn’t be long before sadness would dim the very light she held so dear. She couldn’t have felt anymore alone than what she was now. Only until there was Fingo, did the ropes of sadness unbind from her. Yet, Fingo wasn’t a star at all my friends, not anymore—this is where the harmony of our story begins.

Before his transformation into humanly figure, Fingo was known as Shujaa Nyota—meaning Warrior star. And like most whispered stories of the night, there is still not much said about these, audacious warriors. But, but over time others would create their own stories as many of us have seen throughout our ages. But do not be fooled for that this is no myth—this, you will one day realize in the day of your passing.

There was only one story in particular. A story that would not only be told to the baby stars in the skies but to the babies of the grounded. Heavens Cannons it was called. And the synopsis is that the warrior stars were designed to be weapons of the heavens—all of which was to fight the devil himself. Although, the Devil had stars of his own you see, stars of which we today call volcanoes. But, I am sorry to inform that this story will have to be for another time my friends, for that I fear even the most remote whisper could be the end of me.

Little did any human know, stars packed quite the punch if shot at the right speed—some say enough to destroy entire planets. Yet, it would seem that Fingo was just a dud. Not dying with your brothers was the worst fate for a warrior—it was not honorable. And it was this that gave Fingo no urge to come back to the night skies.  He like Emery would be burdened with a life of loneliness. But the two did not know that soon this burden would be voided.

It has been years now since Fingo was shot through the breeze of what we take in every day. He had blended in well. He now had hands and feet along with a scent of sweet.  And wielded hair so sparkly that made all the girls around stare, as their men all lied in defeat. It did not take long for Fingo to realize that humans sometimes fear what they do not understand. But let’s be honest with ourselves, these behaviors are usually jealously and envy at its finest.

As much as Fingo felt it be a curse, he was unique in his own way—he did not conform to what others felt he should be or felt that he was. He was no freeloader, no murder, no psychopath or pervert for that matter, so he had to be somewhat alright in the books, and it was this he ran over in his mind religiously.

It is still murmured throughout the stars that signs of Fingo can still be seen if one looks hard enough. However, most were only joking with this analogy. But Emery, no, Emery did not joke. She did not know FIngo, neither had she met him. But with the radiant glow from down below, she knew that at least one of them was the real deal. There became an immediate connection, as well as reflection between the two if you still follow me. But let me stop this foolishness of mine and get on with the crescendo shall we.

“Momma,” said Emery. “Could you please tell me the story of the shooting stars again,”

Unlike all the other stars, Emery’s momma was no star at all. And no she was no Warrior star, however, there were such that existed. Emery’s mother was nothing like Fingo, but much bigger—Emery’s momma was the moon. And yes, this was another reason for others to hate her, another reason why she was the brightest of them all, yet she had vowed to never let even a cloud hear her whisper it. And she thanked the heavens that they had never done.

“My sweet Emery don’t you think you’re a little too old for those kinds of stories now,” said Momma moon. “I’ve told you that story a thousand times. Including the thousand times when you were just a freckle in the sky. It’s just a fairy tale, my dear.”

Emery puffed. “Yes. But, momma how could you have told me that story a thousand times if I am only one hundred years old? It’s not even possible. And it’s not a fairy tale.”

They say sometimes the moon smiles on the brightest of nights. Emery was a smart little star-child and Mother moon was proud of that. Everything Mother moon had said went one ear out of the other, which in star form was Emery’s second and third point—stars usually have five points so I would hope many followed this; nevertheless, I have explained it now.

And it would be decades since Emery had seen her father. She thought about what he would say or what he would do for that he was known to be the adventurous kind. But as much as she wanted an answer, to see him, she knew that it could never happen.  Emery’s mother and father only saw each other on the day of which we humans call the eclipse. Can you guess who her father is now? And as much as she hates it when her mother talks about it, this was the day she was conceived.

Emery had always wanted to see her father as most little girls do. However, there were rules. And with those rules there would be grave consequences if crossed. Stars could not come out during the day. Yet, Emery had still crossed them as rebellion was a thing for any child who did not get there way, especially girls. Sorry ladies, but you know it’s true.

Fingo, she’d whisper in her shiny and mighty center. Fingo would gaze up towards the skies, gazing at a particular star that shined brighter than the others, almost the moon in fact.

Overtime all the other stars would fade as they had gone restless of not being seen. Emery and her mother still shined bright as always. However, her mother had dozed off as she was known to do on occasion. It was evident that even the moon needed some sleep every now and then—one would be a fool to believe she slept during the day—oh, my friends, this as well would be another story to tell.

Now let us take it to the falsetto. One, two, three.

Emery had made a voluntary fall, plummeting straight into the Pacific. Because of this, she caused an aftershock that would cause Tsunamis all around the world, but thankfully they were not large enough to cause any tragedies, she hoped.

Stories of mermaids then would be birthed onto planet Earth. Little did anyone of you know that this was somewhat true for that there were signs of a woman in the ocean. But this was no mermaid, nor fish, this was in fact, Emery. And over the years of her disappearance, Fingo would grow into a fine young man, becoming one of the worlds greatest sailors. Some say that he has saved more than a dozens men’s life on the many travels he’s gone. He would eventually take on the nickname of Poseidon. But do not worry, where not going into mythologies. FIngo was no god unless you believe stars to be such.

To make a long story short, as you were all expecting such to be. Driven by un-fainted and un-honorable pain in his heart. Fingo promised that he would find the mermaid many have talked about for centuries before his coming to pass, as it seemed he was now a full human. Emery, on the other hand, waited, for that she still felt close to what she sought for so long. She was now a young woman. She as well wielded hands and feet, along with a scent not so sweet—she smelt of the sea—fishy but managed well.

The two would eventually meet, and this is where our story hits the peek.

Instantly the two became lovers. They lived a life together that was what most in this life still dream of, as well as I. They had two beautiful twins, boy, and girl, of whom they named Sailor and Oceana. For two people that used to be so alone in the world, it is truly magical how misery can easily become beauty. Patients is key my friends—this we must treasure.

The stars in the sky rejoiced for that they now were being seen. The moon sobbed, but eventually, Emery had brought comfort to her that she was ok. Mother moon became a proud grandmother, and Father sun, well let’s just say him and Fingo still had their words. One should know not to take another’s daughter without permission.

But let this beauty linger in your minds for that you and me are all one of a kind, you are not alone my friends. And if it is such you believe, then do no whisper to me.

Go to the ocean. And whisper to Emery and FIngo, the two twinkled stars of the sea.