Chapter 10
The Magical Adventures of Moonie and Sola: The Starglass of Onamar
Thassira. A place between worlds. That’s what they say. But now, walking this path, under the shimmering light, I know that it is more than that. This world, it’s not just between, it’s within. Before and After. Above and below. A place made of what was forgotten and what still remembers. The silence here isn’t empty - it breathes. It knows. Just waiting to be awakened.
Moonie stops ahead of us, her body stills, the piece of Starglass vibrating gently in her grip, humming with something cosmic.
Vivian and I step into the clearing next to her. I gasp.
Before us, Thassira stretches wide and endless, land and sea braided into each other like a dream and tide. Far below, nestled against a pale sweep of beach is Mr. Cooper’s boat. Right where we left it.
Above, the birds streak in and out of the sky, dipping through a shimmer so thin it’s nearly invisible - the veil, woven tight and glowing at the seams. Every time one of the birds breaks through, a crack of wind follows, sharp and howling, pulling ribbons of the hurricane with it.
Time isn’t just passing. It’s pressing.
“We’re running out of time,” Moonie says, clutching the burlap bag to her chest. “The veil is breaking faster than we thought. We need to make the Starglass whole again. We need that last piece!”
Before I can say a word, the sky shifts. It folds, and then -
The Fisherman’s boat spirals down from the clouds like it’s caught in an unseen whirlpool, crashing into the water just offshore. It rolls once, then slams against the sand, capsized.
Vivian blinks hard “Well, then,” she says with a half-laugh. “Ask and you shall receive.”
A shadow passes overhead.
We look up just in time to see Nerivion clinging to the inside of the cage as it plummets from the sky and hits the ground. The impact splits the cage open with a sharp, shivering crack. He’s free.
Nerivion pulls himself from the wreckage, slow, trembling, sea-soaked and blinking against the light. His movements are careful. He doesn’t look at us right away, just turns his face to the wind, breathing deep, like the air belongs to him again.
Moonie takes a cautious step forward. “Are you alright?”
He nods once, then shifts his gaze toward the veil. The storm churns just beyond the shimmer, tearing at the edges of both worlds.
“I was going to go through,” he says quietly. “Out there. Past the veil there’s a place beyond it all... where...” His eyes flick to us. He looks tired. “Why shouldn’t I let it fall? It’s already breaking. I could finally leave.”
Silence falls with the weight of what lingers in time. And I think of the star. The promise. The hush of the archway.
Vivian’s voice breaks the stillness. “Why wouldn’t you want to stay here?”
Nerivion doesn’t answer. He just turns and starts walking, slowly toward the edge of the clearing.
“There!” Moonie gasps, pointing toward the beach.
The Fisherman is crawling out of the wreckage of his boat, soaked and staggering, but cradling something that gleams in his arms.
“Is that--?” Vivian squints.
“It’s the shard,” Moonie says. “He still has it.”
I step forward, my heart pounding. “How are we going to get it from him?”
Nerivion stops, glancing over his shoulder. His expression unreadable. “Good luck,” he says, dryly.
I swallow. Moonie doesn’t believe in luck.
“Nerivion,” I say, “Lynira told us you’d help.”
His jaw tightens. He shakes his head.
“Please.” I add. “You know him. Better than any of us. You’ve seen what he’s become.”
He sighs, deep. “Fine,” he mutters. “But we have to move fast. That man isn’t just angry. There’s no telling what he’ll do. Not even in Thassira.
We try to move as fast as we can, but Thassira slows us. The vines, once gentle and sure-footed, twist unpredictably beneath our feet. Roots rise and dip like waves in the earth, confused and shifting. Storm-light pushes through the trees in shimmering bands, casting shadows that don’t stay still.
The hurricane is coming through the veil now. Not all at once, but in pieces. A gust howls overhead and petals and leave lift like frightened birds taking flight. Branches creak. The sky bends.
We duck under a low sweep of glowing leaves. There is no longer a clear path to the beach. Every turn is a maze of dead ends. The land doesn't know what to do anymore.
Nerivion glances up at the shifting sky. “It wouldn’t be like this,” he says. “Not if the sea hadn’t swallowed his son.”
I look at him sharply. “You mean the fisherman? This is his fault?”
He nods. “This storm. The cracking of the veil. It’s not happening because of his anger. It is happening because of his loss.”
None of us speak for a moment. His words hang in the air like a sound we’re not sure we are allowed to answer.
I feel it - deep and hallow - and I can tell that Moonie does, too.
The loss... it’s not just the Fisherman’s. It’s Nerivion’s too. And the entire world’s. Something long ago broke open and everything since has been echoing.
A break in the trees reveals the shore again. The sand looks further away than before, like it’s pulling back, resisting. The fisherman stumbles toward the waterline, the shard clutched tight in his hands. His coat whipping in the wind.
He hasn’t seen us yet. But the storm has.
Clouds spiral above like dark thoughts gathering. The wind tears through the branches and pushes at our backs - like even Thassira wants us to hurry.
We move again. Faster now. Hearts pounding. Every step a thread pulling tighter.
On the beach, the Fisherman stumbles to his knees. The shard glows in his hands - brighter than before, pulsing like a heartbeat that isn’t his.
He grits his teeth and tries to hold it tighter, but it writhes in his grip, flickering with a light that pushes through his fingers. The storm answers with a gust so strong, it knocks him sideways. He growls, wrestling the shard against his chest.
“It’s trying to escape from him.” I say.
“It knows,” Moonie whispers beside me, breathless. “It wants to be whole.”
The shard flares once, sharp and defiant, and I swear I hear it hum, calling out to the others. Calling out to us.
The fisherman shouts in frustration, staggering to his feet. “No!” he yells into the wind. “You’re mine! You’re supposed to bring him back!”
Then, with a thunderous boom, the veil itself groans open. The shard breaks free from the Fisherman’s grip in a burst of light and sound. It shoots through the air, spinning, spiraling, searching. It does know.
In Moonie’s arms, the burlap bag jolts. The Starglass pulses wildly, then screams. Not a sound, exactly, but a high-pitched hum that splits the air and vibrates through our bones.
“They are calling each other.” I say.
“Like birds in a storm.” Vivian adds.
“Moonie!” I call. “Open the bag!”
“No!” Moonie shouts.
“No!” Nerivion echoes, stepping between us. “If it joins with the others without being contained, on its own free will, it will return to the sky. Not to the veil. Not to the Web of Glass.”
I stare at him, my breath caught.
“It must be taken back to Onamar,” he says. “It must be placed back into the web by hand. Only then will the veil hold.”
He looks up to the sky, the last shard zips back and forth above us.
Feeling the magnetic pull, Moonie grips the burlap bag tighter. The Starglass inside shakes violently as the shard whirls closer, blazing with light.
Moonie stumbles, the force is too much. It’s lifting her feet off the ground.
Vivian steps forward, eyes wide, but steady. “Give it to me!”
Moonie hesitates, but the bag jerks again. Vivian reaches out. Moonie lets go.
Vivian clutches the bag to her chest just as the final shard dives toward her like a comet.
The Fisherman lurches after it, tumbling across the uneven ground, arms outstretched. “Mine!” he cries, slipping and scrambling, but never stopping.
The bag bursts open. The final shard zooms into place, snapping into form with a flash that knocks us all back a step. The pieces come together in Vivian’s hands, glowing like a newborn star. White-hot and singing.
A chime, a pulse, a radiant harmony floods the air. Vivian laughs, pure and childlike. Her eyes shine with wonder. She spins once, twice, skipping, dancing with the light that pours through her fingers like melted joy. She turns again, beaming, giggling - and stops short.
Face to face with the Fisherman.
His expression is twisted, wet with desperation. “I’ll take that!” he groans, reaching for the Starglass.
Moonie steps between them, planting her feet in the soft earth. “Oh, no you won’t!” she shouts, then with a steady voice, “You don’t get to take it. Not again.”
The Fisherman hesitates. He wasn’t expecting residence from someone so small. His eyes move to Vivian. The Starglass, full and complete in her hands, softens its light.
Vivian doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t hand it over. Not to the Fisherman. Not to Moonie. She simply tilts her head, her voice quiet but firm.
“Why?” she asks. “Why cause all of this chaos? What could possibly be worth destroying both worlds?”
The wind dies.
The fisherman exhales, and for the first time, his shoulders sink. Not in anger, but in sadness. With exhaustion.
“I wasn’t trying to destroy anything,” He says. “I just want him back.”
He swallows, eyes distant now, like he’s watching the past unfold in the stormbound above.
“My son. He was only eight. Just a kid. He loved the sea more than anything. Thought it talked to him. I didn’t believe it, of course, not then. I told him stories, sure, but they were just that. Stories.”
I let my feet settle into the warmth of the soil, feeling the weight of his grief.
His voice cracks. “And then, one day, he went swimming and he... he never came back. They said it was an accident. But I felt it. The sea took him. The tide didn’t just swallow him. It took him.”
He turns toward the veil, his voice trembling. “Then I found the book. The one that spoke of a fallen star, of veils, and the power that could undo what time had taken.”
He looks at all of us. His eyes are no longer wild, they’re broken.
“I just wanted to undo the worst thing that ever happened to me.” He locks eyes with Nerivion. “So, I promised him that if he helped me steal the Starglass, I’d take him to Tidemire, past the veil --
“Where I didn’t have to be alone, anymore.” Nerivion says as he lowers his head in shame.
“I thought... if I brought the star back to the sea,” the Fisherman adds, “maybe the sea would give me my son in return.”
Moonie steps toward him, her fists clinched, eyes blazing. “So, you broke everything?” she snaps. “You tricked him. You tore holes in the veil. You’ve nearly destroyed both worlds for a maybe.”
I move gently alongside of her. “You were hurting. I get it. But stealing magic doesn’t fix grief It just spreads it around.”
Vivian exhales slowly, brushing hair from her face, the Starglass still glowing in her hands.
“You know what I think?” she says, her voice low and even. “I think you were looking for your son in the wrong place. You’re never meant to bring him back. You were supposed to find your way to him, every day. In the love you shared with him. In the sea. Not by chasing stars and cracking open myths.”
The Fisherman drops his shoulders even lower. The last of the fight drains from his face. “I didn’t know it would go this far.” His says quietly.
Then he looks at me - directly. His eyes are ringed with salt and sorrow.
“But the sea doesn’t bargain,” I tell him. It’s something my papa always says.
“And magic,” Moonie adds, “doesn’t forget who it belongs to.”
Above us, the sky groans. The light around the veil begins to twist, is edges unraveling like a torn net. The birds stop flying. Everything stills for just a heartbeat.
Then -
The storm breaks through.
The sky cracks. Splits open. A wall of wind and rain roars in, ripping through the trees, scattering the light, lifting the petals, sand, and shards of memories into the air.
We shield our faces. The Starglass glows hot in Vivian’s hands, flaring like a beacon.
Nerivion shouts over the wind, “We have to go! Now!”
But it was too late.
The thought raced through my mind as the wind whipped around me, wild and sharp until everything went dark.
And I am taken out to sea.
I love how the fisherman shows up and the exchange and release happens, then...a twist I didn't expect...taken I to the Sea. Nice twist!
I thought the fisherman and they all join forces...
Let's see what happens.