Stars Don't Die

The world smelled like earth and blood.

Ray jolted awake —
gasping, hands clawing at the bed.
He blinked, confused.

A cabin.
Small. Old.
Built by hand.
Alone. Placed on the edge of the world.

He sat up.
Vines and flowers wrapped his body, pulsing faintly with magic.
The pain was dulled, numbed — not healed, but held together.

Ray ripped the vines away, staggering toward the door.
As he stepped outside, sunlight blinded him.

He shielded his eyes —
then lowered his hand as his eyes adjusted.

A garden.

A beautiful, impossible garden.
Bursting with colors that didn’t exist in the real world.
Every flower brimming with life. Magic humming in the air.

A bald old black man stood in the center, barefoot with a set of dirty grey robes on, tending to a patch of golden lilies.
He glanced over his shoulder, a crooked grin splitting his weathered face and white beard.

“You should still be healing, you stubborn bastard.”

Ray’s head burned with questions.

"Where the hell am I?!" he barked.
"Where’s the dragon? I need to— I need to kill it!"
Ray grabbed his side in pain. Just talking hurt.

The old man laughed, low and bitter.
"You can't even kill me with those wounds, dipshit.
If I knew you wanted to die, I would've just left you up there.
Go ahead. I won’t stop you."

Ray flinched.
There was pain under the old man’s voice —
real, bleeding pain. Ray could tell.
He limped forward, wary.

"...Why are you here alone?"
"...Who are you?"

The old man smiled without warmth.

"I'm never alone.
Don't you see the stars?"

He rose — no walking stick needed despite his older appearance — and stretched his arms to the endless blue sky dotted with stars.

"You can stay a while longer," he said. "No requirements.
Just promise to leave in peace when you're ready."

Ray hesitated.

"...Thank you," he rasped.
"No one's ever... done this. Helped me for free that is.
What do you get out of it?"

The old man chuckled again, this time a little sadder.

"I don’t need shit for it.
That’s what’s wrong with this world.
Nobody’s just good anymore."

He turned, his face harder now. Muttering under his breath.

"And my granddaughter would never forgive me if I left a man to die on that mountain — even though I wanted to."

Days passed.

Everyday day, Ray trained in the garden, magic flaring wild and raw. Somehow Ray felt more in touch with Elysium here.

He tried to fly.
He failed.
He tried again.
Failed harder and faster.

By freezing his boots and feet in time, he could launch himself into the air —
but without balance, without core strength,
he just spun and crashed over and over again.

The old man — Jordan, he finally said one morning over a cup of coffee —
watched from the sidelines, laughing his ass off at every failed attempt as Ray spat dirt out of his mouth.

"You gonna ask the dragon to land and punch it to death?" Jordan jeered, leaning on his shovel.
"Or you planning to actually catch it one day?"

Ray growled back, sweat dripping from his brow.

"Why don’t you fly then, old man?!"
"Flight's rare magic, you know. Only the best can do it!"

Jordan winked.

"Ain’t that the truth."

Every night, Jordan disappeared into the woods, walking alone under the stars.

One night, curiosity gnawed at Ray, keeping him up.
He decided to follow Jordan.

Through a narrow dirt path, past the garden’s edge,
into a clearing where wildflowers grew across the entire field in perfect silence.

At the center, a circle of untouched grass,
glowing faintly silver under the moonlight.

Jordan was laying there, staring at the stars.

Ray approached slowly.

"You mentioned your granddaughter," Ray said. "I've never seen her around.
Is she... out traveling?"

Jordan didn’t look at him.
He just smiled — small, broken.

"Bailey," he said softly. "Her name was Bailey."

He pointed upward toward the sky. A black canvass covered in flashing stars of every color.

"She loved the stars.
Every night, she’d rearrange them with her celestial magic.
Made constellations just for fun. Just for me."

Ray sat down beside him, silent.

Jordan’s voice cracked, just once.

“Her parents didn't want her to play this game you know. But me being the cool grandpa, I just wanted to see her happy. They are gonna disown me for what happened to her in here. They'll never speak to me again. I wouldn't."

Jordan took a long pause.
"We came here to escape the wars. Thought we could survive. Be safe."

He swallowed.

"She thought she could tame the dragon.
Thought everything in this world could be loved if you tried hard enough."

Another long pause.

"And the dragon threw her off the mountain like trash."

Ray’s chest hurt worse than his wounds.

"I couldn’t heal her," Jordan whispered.
"No matter how hard I tried. No matter how many plants I called for.
She died in my arms."

Another silence.

"I wanted to hate this world.
Still do, most days.
But every time I see the stars,
I remember her."

He closed his eyes, voice almost inaudible.

"And all I can see... when I look up
is the good she believed in."

Ray stared at the stars.

For the first time in years,
he let himself really feel something in this hellish game.

Jordan finally spoke again.

"You’re strong, kid.
But not just because of your magic."

He turned, looking Ray dead in the eye.

"Please. Save the families trapped here.
Find the Totems. Save me from this hell.
End this nightmare."

Ray looked up at the stars.

They didn’t feel so far away anymore.