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Deep within the recesses of Star Hill lay a porcelain doll. It was an odd place for such a thing - no children that might play with it lived here, and though some would always dare each other to enter the graveyard of stars, nobody would ever pick up a cracked, faded doll that had been abandoned long ago. Why would they? She wasn’t pretty; she was broken, her limbs askew, her face splintered, her hair more dirt than curls.
And yet, such a thing was just what she needed.
A twinkle of starlight sank into the remnants of the porcelain doll, glimmering in the colors of a night sky as she spread her awareness throughout the ballerina and tested fingers, ankles, and wrists. “Oh,” the newly physical Celeste said, a whisper of a voice in a dusty throat, as her wrist caught on broken shards of porcelain and jolted pain up her arm. “Oh, I see.”
Not very well, granted, given that one of the doll’s eyes was a shattered wreck, but the night sky loomed over her through the other, a cover of dark blue velvet with stars and galaxies shining so very, very far away amidst it. With the exception of the loss of the shimmer of Star Road, it was just as she remembered it, just as it should be, her people so distant they saw nothing on the surface.
“For the best, truly,” the star whispered, and drew as deep a breath as she could manage as she carefully pulled herself to her feet. Old power thrummed beneath her, latticed within the fractured ruins of Star Hill, but she let it be, leaning instead against one of the mossy lumps as she cast about for a wish that could help, one painted eye shut against the stimulation of the world, the other darkened already by misuse.
Wishes sang at her, some in piping sweet sopranos and joyous basses, their happiness an indication of wishes well granted. Beneath those happy songs, sad melodies thrummed, wishes turned blue and dark with hopelessness. The first she ignored; should this go as planned, they would be answered in time. The second?
The second she searched through, seeking a desire that would serve her purposes.
“Ah-ha,” she murmured as her senses lit on one such wish, not so terribly far away. With no hesitation, Celeste stumbled her way there on weakened, ungainly limbs, using the landscape as her support as she learned how to manage a physical body that nevertheless desperately needed mending.
She considered it something of a surprise that she was able to get there without losing anything. “Hmm,” she said, and “Whoop!” as she collapsed in a pile of porcelain limbs beside the flickering sad melody of a wish, the sort of thing that would never, could never have been answered even had Star Road been fully operational.
I wish I were stronger, the little wish-star mourned, choked with starlight tears. And perhaps there was nothing she could do for it, no way to cast her power back to the past where this wish had been so painfully directed, but it was just what she needed now. “Come now, little wish,” she crooned, gathering the light it shed into her unbroken fingers until it pooled in the palm of her hand, a pinch of power siphoned from a great and painful broken dream. “Allow me to give you new direction.”
With careful attention to detail, Celeste got to work. She smoothed it over the cracks in her new porcelain skin, coaxing the edges together and sealing them with stardust. Piece by piece, splinter by splinter, she rebuilt her left eye, the shimmering glow of starlight sinking into the paint until there was nothing left but a sparkle, and then, nothing left at all. Her joints gained new life under her ministrations; the shards in her wrist melded back into a smooth whole that rotated easily. “Lovely,” she murmured. “Don’t worry, little one, I shan’t leave you here.”
Using her own innate power, Celeste spun a starglow net so closely together it resembled mortal silk. “A physical purse for physical materials,” she said to herself as she exerted her will on it, shaping it into silk itself, smooth and shining dark against the pale ghost of her porcelain fingers. “Come now. There we go.”
True, wishes weren’t entirely physical, but… no, this was for the best. She was physical now, after all, and she’d likely need to interact with other physical beings, and she had no desire to explain a satchel of energy carrying metaphysical wishes.
So. Physicality it was.
Celeste placed the rest of the wish within the confines of her new satchel. Most of it remained, with only part of its power gone towards her own repairs. Hopefully, the rest of it would see her workshop, and not be wasted on more repairs to her temporary form.
The wish sighed as she let it go. Celeste paused. “Wait,” she said, and plucked it back up, listening for the words, the thrum, the crying power that pulsed through her fingertips, warm where it brushed up against her repairs, not yet fully solidified. “Star-warrior?”
I wish I were stronger, it keened in her fingers, voice low and familiar. I wish I were stronger.
And it was not the only one.
I wish I weren’t a coward, another wish cried, now that her ears were open to it, seeking strands of dark melody that linked to the wish in her hand. I wish I’d been able to stop this. I wish —
“Oh,” she said again, picking up one of the crying wishes, freeing the one that sobbed I wish the whispers would just stop from underneath it. Tears of stardust glittered against her fingertips from where it flaked off the wish. “Oh, fierce guardian, you were here when these fell.”
Hope and trepidation leapt in her chest, snarling together in her throat. Could he be the source of her answers? Would he? He’d never minded speaking to her before, so perhaps —
Celeste’s breath trembled as she plucked the impossible wishes from the earth and placed them in her satchel, taking such care that some might call her touch reverent. “Never,” she murmured to the wish that called him a coward. “Never, Nova. Your bravery is as the sun, constant and true."
Into the satchel it went. When the last of them settled, Celeste twined a rope of starlight around the mouth of her bag, tied it shut, and rose to her feet. “Now, then,” she said. “Whither do you wander, lost one?”
She rubbed stardust between her fingers, the salty bite of power tingling her fingertips, and located the same trace in the air. “Ah-ha.”
Without pause, Celeste set off after the trail of tears. It faded quickly to mere traces of power, a glowing of starlight that couldn’t be seen by anything or anyone save another star-spirit, reflected in her painted eyes.
The star-spirit she was searching for was currently in the next town over, flopped over a red-and-white-checkered bedspread and staring up at the ceiling.
Once that harrowing mishap with the Star Piece was through, with Smithy’s goon defeated and the star returned to the heavens, exhaustion hit Geno like a ton of bricks. He could barely focus on each of the townspeople as they thanked him and his group profusely for saving their little town of Seaside. As nice as it all was, the day’s battles, antics, and emotional struggles had worn him down to a twig; at least the very grateful and very real innkeeper let them stay in their room for free tonight, too.
The others didn’t put up a fuss when he practically fell into a bed, but their own bedtime routines were a bit noisier than he would’ve liked.
Mallow let out a loud giggle nearby, and then a pillow pelted Geno in the face.
“Gahahaha! My bad!” Bowser guffawed, not sounding the least bit sorry. “Creampuff ducked under my throw!”
“You big fat liar! I’m all the way over here!” Mallow was perched upon one of the three beds on the opposite side of the room, laughing his cute little head off. “And now I claim this bed in the name of—!”
“Ohhhhh, no you don’t!” Bowser immediately dove for the bed to reclaim his dibs.
"Hey, hey!" Mario yanking his tail prevented him from smashing it to pieces with his weight. "Can-a we all relax, please??"
Left alone, Geno grumpily claimed the tossed pillow as his own, turning away from the raucous bunch and snuggling it close to his chest. If there were two things he really grew to appreciate down on the surface, one was sweet-tasting treats, and the other was soft, comforting, and ideally warm things to press himself against.
Pillows were pretty nice. Companions were even better. But, after today, he really wasn’t up for the latter right now.
He couldn’t help but bristle a little as one of those companions lightly patted his shoulder. “Sorry about them, Geno,” Peach apologized gracefully. “You okay?”
“M’fine,” he grunted. “Just wanna sleep.”
“Gotcha. I’ll try and get ‘em to calm down,” she promised much more casually as she drew away.
And she did her best, true to her word, shushing the other three on his behalf. As the room finally grew quieter, Geno began to settle and sink into the bed, letting the weight of today’s worries drift away as he turned his face into the pillow with a sigh.
…and then, something within him stirred. It was so small, so minute, he almost didn’t notice it. But it was the same tremble in his chest that had gripped him up on Star Hill.
With a shudder and a sleepy murmur, Geno dismissed it as his imagination, his sleep-muddled head replaying random memories and emotions as he tried to fall asleep.
“...oh, well, we have a brave band of travelers staying upstairs.” His eyes flicked open as he heard the elderly innkeeper’s pleasant voice through the floorboards. “They just saved our town, in fact! A bunch of good people. Perhaps one of them is the person you’re looking for?”
Exhaustion forgotten, Geno quickly sat up in bed, watching the door. He was somewhat aware that his sudden movement caught everyone’s attention; Mario had just kicked off his shoes at the edge of the bed he was sharing with Peach, and Mallow was about to climb into bed next to Bowser, who had finally acquiesced to sharing his territory for the night.
“Geno? Something up-a?”
“Someone’s coming. From downstairs,” he got out stiffly, and it wasn’t lost on him that the fluttering tremor within him, the swirling energies and stirrings of home, hadn’t gone away, that it was stronger than ever as the softest steps ascended the staircase.
Was it—no. It couldn’t be.
A gentle knock rang true against the door. All five of them traded awkward glances amongst each other.
“...who is it?” Peach decided to call out, almost in a singsong.
A moment passed in silence. Then: “A traveler, seeking answers from the star-warrior that rests with you,” a soft, melodious voice replied from beyond the door.
It couldn’t be. But it was.
Geno felt everyone else’s eyes land on him, but his own gaze was fixed on the door like it had burst into flames.
“Uhhh. Someone you-a know, Geno?” Mario waited a beat or two, and when he got no response, he hopped off the bed and stepped forward, calling out, “Door’s open!”
Another beat of nothing, then the doorknob turned, and the door swung open. A woman ducked gracefully under the toad-short doorway and let herself inside. “Greetings,” she said.
The party looked upon their alabaster visitor in wonder, a tall, tall lady who shone brightly in the cozy light of their room. Segmented limbs immediately hinted at her nature, but, unlike their own friend from the heavens, her form had all the rounded shapes, lovely curves, and gentle grace of a ballerina. In fact, she donned not a cape, cap, and boots, but a starred tiara, ballet slippers, and a glittering pale dress. Her cerulean hair tapered down in tight curls, perfectly framing her porcelain face, which bore a gentle smile and airbrushed cheeks. In her dainty hands, she carried a small, yet important-looking satchel, filled to the brim.
Perhaps, if Geno had thought to glance over to the others, he’d find Mario staring in appropriate surprise and awe, Mallow awash with childlike wonderment, Bowser’s brows raised in total confusion, and Peach’s own cheeks flushed with a natural and rather intense blush.
But, as he was now, the small stirrings now rang like wind chimes in his head, and he knew, with every fiber of his being, from the stars above to the wood grains below, exactly who he was looking upon.
Her? Of every star in the cosmos, it was her?
Everything else was briefly forgotten, he barely felt his own wooden body shift, throwing off the covers, leaping off the bed, and dashing up to her.
(What…what are you DOING here?) The twinkling star-speak escaped him before he could realize it.
(Seeking answers,) she said patiently in the same language.
He was going crazy. He had to have been! (But…but down HERE!? What answers could you POSSIBLY get from me that you couldn’t get from—)
“Um.” A gruff grunt brought Geno back down to earth, figuratively, and he swiveled back to face his party. Sarcastically, a baffled Bowser waved. “Hi. What. ”
Oh. Oh, stars. How embarrassing. Geno was really not having the best track record of keeping his cool today, was he?
The marionette took a moment, several moments, to compose himself, and any other time he’d be impressed with everyone’s patience. “...h’okay.” He took in a deep breath, and another, before he stepped back to stand at their visitor’s side. “I really hope I don’t have to explain what kind of person this is.”
“I mean, yeah, it’s-a pretty obvious,” Mario replied frankly. “But it looks like you do know her?”
“Well…” Oh. “...um… well, she’s…”
He knew of her. While on patrol, he’d seen her drifting across the Star Road with her deliveries, he assumed, heard her speak a few times, maybe once or twice to him, even. She was distinct, for a star spirit.
But he didn’t even know her name. Not even her celestial one.
His face grew hot. Embarrassing. “She’s… u-um.”
“Celeste,” the lady introduced herself peacefully as Geno stumbled over his own failure. Miserably, he subsided. “I am an artisan by trade, and I seek to learn what has happened to Star Road.”
“Wait,” Geno spluttered, unable to help himself. At least, he noted with a tiny measure of relief, he wasn’t spouting starspeak at her again. Celeste paused and looked down at him, waiting as asked. “I thought you were a courier. You’re always carrying - well, that.”
She shook her head. “No. That which I reforge is…” she hummed thoughtfully. “Unpleasant to be around,” the artisan settled on. “I walk into forgotten shadows to find that which is broken myself.”
Reeling, Geno faltered, unsure of how to respond to that. Nearby, Bowser, still baffled, reiterated, “What is she talking about.”
No one bothered to answer him, naturally. Even Peach, who usually had a quip or a scolding prepared, was much too busy staring at Celeste, her face getting pinker by the second. Geno wasn’t sure what was going on there.
Mallow blinked the (metaphorical) stars out of his eyes. “...whoa, wait, you dunno what happened up on Star Road?”
“It shattered,” Celeste said softly. “A crumbling ruin of stardust. But I don’t know what fractured it in the first place.”
Geno could’ve asked where in the galaxy she possibly could’ve been during the disaster, but something else bothered him just a little bit more. “Did…did no one on the Road tell you what happened?”
“They weren’t interested in my questions.” Celeste sighed. “I knew only that it had broken and the pieces scattered across the surface.” She met Geno’s eyes and smiled. “Your discovery was a pleasant surprise.”
Something within Geno sank and settled uncomfortably in his gut, and he startled when Mario patted his shoulder from behind, pulling him into an encouraging side-hug. Geez, was his unease that obvious? “Well, you’ve-a come to the right place!” he cheerily told her. “We can definitely getcha caught up!”
And so they did, telling the story of Smithy’s destructive descent into their world, with all the expected theatrics and pantomiming that, honestly? Made it a little easier for Geno to endure telling once more. Mario’s impersonation of Exor was especially hilarious, just as it was last time.
“And so!” Bowser stood tall, smoke flaring confidently from his nostrils as he concluded the tale, “After the takeover of MY castle, I formed a brand new Koopa Troop, and here we are, on the road to take my fortress back!”
“...and the Star Pieces,” Peach finally got enough of a hold on herself to add on in exasperation, though her cheeks were still as pink as her elegant dress.
“Yeah, sure, those too, I guess.”
Geno couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the predictable Koopa King, but the soft giggle from Celeste caught him off guard.
“We already got five of ‘em!” Mallow piped up proudly. “Geno said there’s seven, so just two more to go!”
“Oh. I see.” Celeste relaxed, a tension vanishing from her shoulders that was only noticeable thanks to its disappearance. Though her laughter had faded, the smile that remained felt warmer, more genuine. “Thank you for taking the time to explain.”
“No-a problem!”
Celeste dipped her head gracefully, then hesitated, considering them with painted eyes. Geno’s insides twisted under her gaze. “Have the pieces attracted attention themselves?” she asked after a moment, uncertainty flavoring her tone, as if she wasn’t sure she was allowed to ask. “It was forged with the strength of galaxies. That kind of power in the hands of those you speak of…”
The mood of the room quickly shifted, as the party exchanged uneasy glances.
“Umm…yeahhhh…” Mallow spoke up sheepishly. “We had to fight one of Smithy’s goons earlier before he could steal it, actually…”
“Looks like he’s officially in the race for ‘em, yeah,” Bowser agreed.
It seemed that, finally, the stakes were beginning to dawn on them. But, just in case…
“...you guys get it, now?” Geno’s voice felt a bit more raw than he would’ve liked. “There’s way more on the line than just wishes, here.”
“Of…of course we knew that, Geno…!” Peach approached him carefully, sparing a brief glance at Celeste before looking away shyly. “You know we know that. You’re not still upset about earlier, are you…?”
He didn’t want to admit it… so he didn’t, and just averted his eyes, turning to face Celeste. “We’ll secure the rest before he does, I can promise you that.”
The words felt like lies in his mouth. Celeste didn’t seem to notice. “As the moon waxes and wanes,” she agreed. “Of course.”
“You can-a count on us!” Mario, once again, invaded his personal space, gripping his arms from the side and shaking him enthusiastically. “We’ve got the best of the best right here by our side! Don’t-a you worry!”
Geno knew what he was trying to do, and maybe he’d appreciate it in retrospect, but right now he wanted to disappear in a puff of stardust. “Mario…please…” he got out tightly, and to his credit, the plumber released him and at least looked properly apologetic, before he threw a silent request for help Peach’s way.
She offered only a simple, but firm pat to Geno’s back before she addressed Celeste. “Sooo…what about you? What’ll you be doing in the meantime?”
Celeste shrugged. “Gathering lost wishes from lonely shadows before less savory individuals seize them for themselves, as I always do.”
“Aww…” Mallow’s sad little tone crowned a general shuffle of disappointment between the team members. Geno glanced between each of them, and now he for sure knew he was losing his mind. Come on, people, you literally just met her, you can’t be seriously considering—
“That-a sounds like really lonely work,” Mario threw out, his gloves hands fidgeting as if he were struggling to keep them to himself.
And —
He’d never thought about it before, how lonely that kind of a life must be. It hadn’t ever mattered. He’d been on Star Road, patrolling the shimmering, starglow blocks and guarding the engineers and wish-granters and other travelers as they all traversed the interstellar path, and there had always been people. Even Celeste, he’d seen, for all that he’d never bothered to get her name before.
But what really struck him was the look on Celeste’s face. Not gloom, not resigned acceptance, not even a cheerful rebuttal.
No. Celeste looked surprised, as if such a thing had never occurred to her either.
“It’s necessary,” she offered after a long pause, deftly side-stepping the implied question altogether. “Such things need to be retrieved and reforged. Their potential ought not to be left to ruin.”
“Oh, yeah?” Bowser rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. “‘Reforged,’ huh? What kinda things do you end up making? Food? Equipment? Weapons?”
Geno bristled at the mere mention of that last word. “Bowser, I swear to—”
“Sometimes.”
“Celeste—”
She shrugged, unrepentant. “The energy of a wish left unfulfilled can be used for a multitude of things, depending on the song of the wish. Many weapons for our warriors are forged from such things, though they require an insubstantiality of nature to be able to use them.”
He could practically see the question marks drilling holes into Bowser’s brain. “What.”
“You’ve gotta be a star spirit to use them,” Mallow translated, then turned a hopeful, excited look on Celeste. “Right?”
“Yes.”
“Heeee, that is so cool. So, there’s rules and stuff, but you can pretty much make anything? ”
Geno’s head was really starting to hurt, and rubbing his temples only did so much. “ Yes, Mallow, as she said…you guys realize that stars make up literally everything, right?”
“Whooooa. Really? I always thought that was just a profound thing Grandpa used to say.”
“Profundity lives within truth,” Celeste agreed with a twinkle of a laugh. “Stardust courses through the veins of the universe.”
“Cool, can we actually, like, speak English now? That’d be great.”
“Ignore him,” Peach easily waved Bowser off. “That’s really beautiful, Celeste.”
“And a pretty useful skill-a, too.” Mario nodded sagely, as subtle as a hammer to the face, before shoving his hands in his pockets casually. “Guess you, ah. Better get back to it, huh? I mean, we shouldn’t be-a holding you up, but…”
Celeste bowed her head gracefully, then turned and let herself out, closing the door gently behind her.
“...oh.”
“Not sure what you all were expecting.” Finally, the tension in Geno’s frame began to ease, whether it was from a narrowly-avoided invitation, or the quieting of the chimes in his core as she departed, or something even deeper than that…well, it didn’t matter all that much.
Still, seeing his friends in such dismay wasn’t the least bit enjoyable. “I mean, she’s no fighter, and in case you haven’t noticed, Smithy’s been sending out tougher and tougher troops as we go.”
He winced at their frowns. Right. He promised he’d try and be a little less callous, didn’t he. “...I just don’t think it’d be right to put her in harm’s way like that.”
“We could’ve at least given her the option…” Peach huffed quietly as she fell back onto her bed. She was looking the most heavy-hearted, for some odd reason.
“Right?? What the heck!” Mallow gestured widely in frustration. “Why didn’t we invite her??”
“I was gonna!” Mario flailed. “Then she just-a, moseyed on out!”
“Droppin’ the ball, plumber,” Bowser snorted in a tone he knew for a fact ticked him off, shaking his head. “Tsk, tsk, some great leader you are.”
Mario threw up his hands. “This is your troop, I thought! You-a could’ve invited her!”
“Not my department.” The slyest smirk played across his scaly face as Mario writhed and pulled at his hair.
So, business as usual. The normalcy and constants between the folks he’d just started to hold dear succeeded in calming Geno’s nerves, even as they continued bickering about their missed opportunity. He himself stood apart from the nonsense, close to the door Celeste had left through, and he found himself staring through it, no longer in flames and coated in sad ashes instead.
As real as the relief that washed over him was…something about her story didn’t sit right with him. He knew the Star Road was still a big mess, but for none of his kin to give her the time of day? Did her true work really drive them away that thoroughly?
True, no star with a drop of empathy would want to listen to wishes they cannot grant…but that didn’t make this right. Not at all.
He thought about her sad, yet clearly important role in collecting broken, ungrantable wishes. He thought about her lonely journey across this beautiful, perilous world. He thought about the dangers growing steadily as Smithy’s influence from Bowser’s Keep grew stronger every day.
He thought about those dangers crossing her path, with no one to protect her.
And that thought gripped him tighter than all the embarrassment of their entire conversation.
Geno fought off a shudder, catching bits of the conversation behind him—“Okay, but where’s she gonna be when we’re in the middle of a fight?” “We always have two of us at the back for extra support, anyways! They can keep her safe!”—which made it all the more clear what the party as a whole wanted. It made him feel just a bit rotten, for dismissing them so quickly in wake of his own insecurities.
“Hey…Geno?” Snapping from his thoughts, he looked up to meet Mario’s gaze, startled at the genuine remorse in those sky blue eyes. “Sorry… we kinda steamrolled you a bit-a, there.”
The doll couldn’t find any anger to even grasp at. “It…it’s alright,” he replied, rubbing under his hat wearily. “I’m just, abundantly overwhelmed and I don’t know how useful an opinion from me would be at the moment.”
Mario frowned. “...your opinion is always useful, Geno,” he said quietly.
Despite the breach of trust earlier that day, Geno found himself believing that, if only briefly. He averted his eyes unsurely, and apparently that was an invitation for Mario to, ever so gently, bring up his soft gloved hands to hold the warrior’s hard, dangerous, but mostly nervous hands in a comforting grip. He offered an understanding smile to go with the gesture, and Geno’s face grew warm again for a completely different reason.
Idly, in a tangent off to the side in his head, Peach’s strange behavior towards Celeste was starting to make a lot more sense.
“You wanna take a minute to go-a collect yourself?” he almost missed Mario asking. “Go on a walk or something? You look-a like you could use some fresh air.”
“Y…yeah. Yeah, I think I will.”
“Okie-dokie.” That cute little phrase danced around them as Mario drew away, and Geno immediately missed the contact. “Go on. We won’t-a make any big decisions without you, okay?”
He nodded, and his companions each offered their own unique salutation before he too departed their room.
Outside the cozy inn, the briny air was cool and crisp, fighting off any of his earlier exhaustion, and the town of Seaside was delightfully vibrant, even at this hour. Though few toads walked the streets, the once-dreary windows of each cottage and shop were lit with warm light and warmer laughter. The oppressive miasma that choked this poor little town under Yaridovich’s control had been all but completely forgotten, and their joy and celebration was all their heroes could’ve asked for.
Though he came out here on a mission, Geno allowed himself a moment to gaze up at the stars in the night sky fondly. Every drop of light in the tapestry was another soul, hard at work repairing their shattered world, a space devoid of starlight where the Star Road used to be, every single one of them depending on him—
Geno dropped his gaze from the heavens, and on a hunch, headed westward. As he followed the path they had sprinted down not even hours ago, trying to catch up to Mario in his bold chase, that familiar stir tugged at his spirit. Good, she hadn’t gone far.
He barely had to follow the strengthening knell to know where he’d likely find her, but he ended up back at the bay all the same, the rocky outlet where they had their harrowing battle with Yaridovich. There were still cracks and small charred craters left in the terrain. Thankfully, the one he was searching for was nowhere near the concentrated devastation, and was instead settled safely under a palm tree on the sandy side of the bay, gazing out into the open waters.
Okay. Alright. Let’s try this again.
As he slowly approached her, Geno doubted he had to announce himself, but did so anyway. “H-hey. Hi, again.”
Celeste glanced over at him from where she sat. (Hello, Nova.)
He startled to a stop. Stars. It felt like so long ago he’d been called that.
Seeing his reaction, she hesitated. (Is that… acceptable?) she asked tentatively. (I heard them call you Geno. )
(That’s…any name is fine,) he replied, easing down into the sand beside her. (I use “Geno” as…well, out of respect for the body I’m borrowing, you know?) He gestured to himself generally, even as that statement felt so strange to say. He’d almost forgotten this body wasn’t his. (They can’t pronounce my real name, anyway. But I don’t mind either way, really.)
At the end of his rambling, when the novelty of hearing his true celestial name faded, it hit him. (...wait. How did you know my…?)
(Your name is not unknown,) Celeste said, clearly amused. (I heard it often on the Road. It suits you.)
(...right.) Geno coughed, a very human-sounding cough, though still tinged with sparkles. (About the Road…) He hadn’t seen it since the first Star Piece had been restored by chance, and the repairs had just barely begun before his departure. (...how is it, up there?) It was a ridiculous question, he knew it was, but it prodded at him either way, and it just suddenly felt so nice to be talking to someone in his native tongue for once.
Celeste sighed, her cheer dipping down into something quite a bit more solemn. Geno’s heart twisted in his wooden chest; he knew he wasn’t going to like this.
At least Celeste kept to star-speak when she answered him. Thank heaven (ha) for small favors. (Chaotic. Fretful. The ones that don’t panic bury themselves in repairs to the exclusion of all else — though I didn’t speak to the Council, so make of them as you will, as I have nothing to offer there.) She looked back out to the water, and sounded faintly distant when she added, (Shadow consumes the old paths. Star Road’s destruction crumbled them to dust and let the void-beasts in. Getting back was… difficult.)
(Stars, no ,) his twinkling voice stuttered and fell as he buried his face in his hands. It was so, so much worse than he thought. (...I should be up there. Fighting the beasts,) he said without thinking. What was he doing down here?? They needed him, they all needed him—
(There are others,) Celeste told him firmly. Her hand lit on his shoulder. Geno froze, then crumpled beneath her touch. After a moment, she tightened her grip reassuringly. (You’re not the only warrior of note, and the paths I use have always been tangled with shadow and disuse. Few of us travel to the surface, and fewer still seek the lost ones. I know you know this.)
(...Y-yeah, but if things are that bad, they need all hands on deck, doing their part to keep everyone safe. )
(And leave the Star Pieces to be picked up by others?) Celeste shook her head. (If we’re to best the shadows, we need the Road to be whole again.)
(I…I know. I know.) Heavens above, did he know. He held his knees to his chest, his gaze drifting out to the ocean. He barely felt worthy enough to even look at her and all her graciousness she offered to him. (...I’m sorry. I’ve had…a very difficult day. This journey hasn’t been easy.)
He couldn’t believe he was about to ask her to join them on this journey. (At least…I’d be a lot worse off without Mario and his friends to help.)
She squeezed his shoulder once, then let go. (I like them,) she said cheerfully as she turned to look back out over the water. (Even the loud one.)
A tired laugh fell out of his mouth. (Yeah, Bowser’s like that. He’s not too bad once you get to know him, though.) Distractedly, his little wooden finger drew circles in the sand. (...They’re all good people. Not perfect, but…no one really is, are they?)
She laughed in reply. It twinkled like windchimes, retaining the starry effect it would’ve had outside of her current porcelain shape, then faded away. A quick glance up from the sand showed him that her smile, at least, remained steady.
Well…might as well put it out there before he second-guessed himself. (Speaking of them… they REALLY want you to join our party, actually.)
He didn’t wait for a response before a ramble took hold of his mouth, his hands moving in their by-now typical erratic motions. (Now, I want to make sure you know that if you take up their offer, the road ahead of us will only get more and more dangerous. I mean, look out over the bay, see all that battle damage? That was from us fighting just ONE of Smithy’s officers. I don’t really know how much of a fighter you are, but they really seemed to take a shine to you, I’m only making sure you know what you’re getting into if you accept the invitation, but it’s completely up to you.)
Geno pulled in a long breath at the end of it. Man. He thought the notion of ‘talking too much’ was just figurative, but here it actually left him breathless. Or perhaps that was the nerves, escaping through his fidgets, trembling in his fingertips as he debated sitting on his hands to get himself to sit still. What if she said yes? What if she said no?
Both were possible. Either could destroy him.
Destroy her.
He swallowed, and waited. And waited.
And waited.
(Celeste?) he finally risked saying, tentative and uncertain. (Are you all right?)
Celeste stared at him, eyes wide, body completely still with what he swore was shock. (....Really?) she finally breathed in such a quiet whisper that he had to lean in to hear her. (They said that?)
(I thought Mallow was gonna cry when you left,) Geno confirmed. (He’s a real emotional kid. Even Bowser wanted you on board, but that might’ve been dreams of weapons for his Koopa Troop talking.)
(Oh.)
He tucked his hands deep under his cape and clenched the fabric close. (You seem surprised. Is it because you’re not a fighter, or did I get that wrong too?)
(No… No, I’m not a fighter, I…) Celeste shook her head a little, very slowly. (I just…)
She trailed off. When no more words were forthcoming, Geno added, (They’ll keep you safe, if you decide to join.)
As fresh guilt began churning in his gut, he braved a glance up at her, and—
She was smiling, a sad, knowing smile that held limitless understanding, as if her painted periwinkle eyes were… not so much piercing into his core, but politely greeting it and coming inside with a quiet invitation. Her settling in there, strangely enough, got his insides to calm down before the deeply-ingrained regret could eat them alive, an effect that was hardly lost on him. Her smile was comforting, centering, and if Geno had any weaker of a grip on himself, he’d crumble right there and then and unload all of his pain onto her.
Instead, he held her gaze as he snaked a hand out from the safety of his cape, extending it to her. (So…what’ll it be? A-again, up to you.)
Without hesitation, she took his hand. It was smoother than his, porcelain against wood that had seen better days and could definitely use a bit of a polish, but she held fast anyway. (Yes,) she said, tone brimming with light. (I’ll come.)
A raw emotion gripped at his little starry heart that Geno couldn’t quite understand…so he didn’t try to, and shook her hand with the greatest of care. He even offered a smile of his own, pushing it a bit to match the strength of hers. (Good…good. Let’s get this show on the road, then.)