The night was young as it soared above the snow-coated village. Stars blinked in the cradle of The Rising Phoenix, like separate snowflakes far away from the land’s hold. Blue, yellow, white, mingled in purple glow of the dust spreading over the brilliant centre almost bright enough to outstand the moon. It was like an offspring not yet hatched, a phoenix to be risen, one day…
I sighed. One day, I would greet the skies with it. The stars on my wings. Or as my wings. That was my dream.
It was like the day back then, as I lay in the snow the stars twinkling over and the snowflakes brushing my face as they landed. I reached my hand up and wondered why some of the flakes never fell. Why those sparkling gems never descended onto my palm… Though they did vanish by morning.
Dino said if there was an egg to be cracking, the pieces would fall, crash onto our lands like they sometimes do. I wondered then, would even the stars, the snowflakes f