Nowhere Stars, Vol. 1

Nowhere Stars Volume One Anemone 2022 Copyright © Anemone. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher, except as permitted by law. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Front cover design by Kobuta Nori https://www.patreon.com/NowhereStars First Edition Table of Contents Phase 1: what grows in the seedbed of sorrow Death Inverted 1-1 Death Inverted 1-2 Death Inverted 1-3 Death Inverted 1-4 Death Inverted 1-5 Death Inverted 1-6 Death Inverted 1-7 Other Horizons 2-1 Other Horizons 2-2 Other Horizons 2-3 Other Horizons 2-4 Other Horizons 2-5 Other Horizons 2-6 Duet 2-7 Where We Come From 3-1 Where We Come From 3-2 Where We Come From 3-3 Where We Come From 3-4 In The Dark, We’re All The Same 4-1 In The Dark, We’re All The Same 4-2 In The Dark, We’re All The Same 4-3 In The Dark, We’re All The Same 4-4 My Own and Only Light 4-5 In The Dark, We’re All The Same 4-6 In The Dark, We’re All The Same 4-7 In The Dark, We’re All The Same 4-8 In The Dark, We’re All The Same 4-9 In The Dark, We’re All The Same 4-10 Epilogue ~ Fallen from the Sky About the Author Phase 1: what grows in the seedbed of sorrow Death Inverted 1-1 Nothing that makes us human is physical. Everyone knows that, but it’s very little comfort to my soul in its crumbling shell. A glass elevator carries us to the top floor of the New Claris Regional Hospital. Its view as it rises looks out at the city’s western limits, where a field of wildflowers blooms between us and the untouched forests. From this height and distance, their shapes and hues blur together into a carpet of colorful foam on a green sea, faintly shifting in the wind. I don’t really like flowers. Oh, they’re quite the sight right now, but in no time at all they’ll wilt, die, and linger as rotten brown husks. Flowers are beautiful because they fade. People who want to sound wise say things like that sometimes, but it’s all garbage. They’re beautiful right now. They’d be beautiful if they stayed like this forever. If those people were wilting, they’d agree with me. Before long, the elevator comes to a stop with a soft ping, and its doors slide open into a wide hallway. Dad steps out, two bags of my luggage in tow, and I follow. I’ve never been to the seventh floor before. To their credit, they’ve done a good job of making it look like a real place. The hall is bright with soft ambient light, and it opens into a large space that feels more like an upscale living room than a hospital, with earth-tone walls, a high wood-panel ceiling, round tables surrounded by plush seats. Planters line the tall, wide windows, and the air smells strongly of mint. The only immediate sign of where we are is the square desk in one corner serving as a nurse’s station. Some of the people seated around the room, a rough split of residents and nurses, look up to watch as we enter. At her age? What a shame… None of them say that, not with words, but I can feel it in their eyes. I’ve felt it quite enough to know it by now. “Ah, is that Liadain? We just heard you’d be here soon.” One of the nurses approaches to greet us. “And you must be…?” “Her father, yes,” Dad confirms. “Alban Shiel. Nice to meet you.” The nurse briefly glances up at him and down at me as he reaches out to shake her hand. We look nothing alike. Apparently I take after my mother’s side. After a moment’s uncomfortable small talk, she ushers us down the hall to my new room. “Well! This is a nice place, eh, Lia?” Dad says, his tone artificially light and casual. Like the lounge outside, its decor is quiet and cozy, with just one thing out of place. The bed is covered with a soft blue quilt in a simple diamond pattern rather than sterile white sheets, but laid over the same thin wheeled frame as those on the lower floors, with a tray table, steel IV pole, and remote control attached to one side. At least it’s the only bed here. Every room on this floor houses a single patient, a small relief compared to some of my last stays. “Do you need any help getting things in order?” Dad asks. “No, that’s fine. Just put everything here in the corner. I’ll bother one of the nurses if anything comes up.” “Ah. I’ll let you get to it, then.” He nods, expressionless, drops his share of bags, and steps back to stand in the doorway. He silently looks over the room again as I start to root through my things. Atop a tightly folded pile of my dresses, the round pink face of Pearl, my stuffed axolotl, smiles up at me. At least one friend is still standing by me through all this. “I’ll come by after work tomorrow to see how you’re settling in,” Dad lies. “You take care, alright?” I have nothing to say to that. He’s been doing his best to act like I was going on a fun trip somewhere, and I can’t be bothered asking him to quit it. He’ll be gone again before too long. “Right. I’ll show myself out.” His brisk footsteps quickly fade from earshot. “Just buzz if you need anything, okay? We’ll show you around later, whenever you’re feeling up to it.” The nurse slips out after him, gently closing the door behind her. I’ve waited to cry, swallowed my pain for as long as I could, and I lose my hold