power

TO BELIEVE IN THE HEART

 

Remember the café?

The stars.

The two silhouettes.

Cassandra was quite certain she 

understood what they meant.

She did not.

We've established this.

In fairness, she had other things

going on.

Still.

The gods gave her a glimpse beyond

the veil, and Cassandra promptly

attached it to the nearest man.

I've been waiting years to say that.

 

Anyway.

Tonight, the vision returns.

Cassandra does too.

Let's see if she notices.

becoming

 

I felt it even before it hit -

a crack in the air.

It always precedes a shift in my life -

neither good nor bad, but undeniable.

A presence lurking in the shadows,

heavy as pulse, keen as a whispered

secret, swelling with intent.

That Tuesday night, the impossible

happened. My armor, built over years,

crafted in a lifetime, cracked silently

like a soft whisper in the night. I felt it.

Couldn't stop it.

It was terrifying, a shadow of my

deepest nightmare gazing through me,

unyielding.

But it wasn't fear; it was worse -

it was longing.

Its power stole my breath, and a single

tear fell down my cheek, carrying all

wonders and terrors in its gleam.

Me undone by that one tear.

I looked at the night sky, stars above

me, and memories came back.

Memories I had buried deep in my

darkness.

I stared above. Stars flickered,

promising forever. Memories clawed

their way up, step by step.

A voice from long ago called my name.

The shadows tightened around me - a

soft and warm welcome, not a goodbye.

I lay down, eyes still on the stars. More

tears came, each one spilling regrets,

pain, wrong turns.

Some caught the starlight, holding a

smile, a hand, a moment of warmth and

love.

 

I wandered a spiral staircase in my

mind, its walls glistening with unwept

tears, forgotten days, laughter, and

summer rain, guiding me to my hidden

self.

I thought I knew what I'd see -

childhood scars, heartbreaks, losses.

But I was wrong.

A child sat in a library, staring at words.

She inhaled them, embraced them, and

loved them.

Words became her armor, her blade,

forever hers.

From tales of heroes, beauties, and

glorious beasts, she gathered

fragments, weaving them into her

yearning heart, crowning herself a

queen.

Then she seized a spark of divinity and

eternity, pressing it into her chest.

 

A reckless vow to something eternal.

She knew her soul longed for this, and

her own queen demanded it.

I saw the world as she did - magic in

everything, every pattern woven clear

to see.

Every incident we mortals see revealed

as fate and choice, knotted together.

Then a voice, deep and resonant, like a

drum in the dark: “Remember.”

A shiver went down my spine.

Somehow familiar, but not mine.

A voice from another world.

Once, the world had split open. The

cafe dimmed, voices faded to silence,

and I glimpsed beyond the veil. I stood

under the stars, two silhouettes

burning in the sky, their forms carved

in starlight.


A sign so powerful, but not truly

perceived in a time when I'd stopped

believing.

But there it was - a reminder of a world

beneath this one. A rare gift from the

gods.

That voice again, low and rough,

resonating from everywhere:

“Remember.”

The longing nearly broke me.

“Becoming,” the voice said softer.


My heart stopped, and the longing

paused for a fraction of time

A shift, a whisper of transformation. I

was becoming something else.

I sat silently in the dark, the shadows

wrapping around me, soft and gentle.

My inner reflection unfolded, and I saw

the cage - my heart locked in cold gold,

hard as truth.

I knew it too well.

A whisper warm near my ear, the voice

gentle: “Remember,”

and my caged heart melted into liquid

night and gold.


All the armor I’d built dissolved, swept

away in quiet awe.

The queen, always there in me, rose,

fierce and gentle, with black dahlias as

her crown.

Her heart burned through time, her

dress liquid night and light

woven in every constellation.

Raw and alive. The voice, now gentle

and calm: “Becoming.”

And I said, finally and truly me, the

queen again: “Remember.”

A tremble in my voice, the longing

gone.

Then he was there, eyes like starlight

trapped in shadow. He looked at me.

“I swore I'd find you in every life, in all

there is.” His voice soft and gentle.

I whispered back, “I swore I'd remember

you in every life, in all there is,” a vow

renewed.

 

He held me, kissed me with all the love

there is. The universe held its breath.

Stars collided, weaving a nebula of

gold and love.

The queen within me stood tall, her

crown of black dahlias shimmering in

the night.

“Remember,” I whispered, my voice

steady, no longer trembling.

“Becoming,” he echoed, his eyes

holding mine, starlight to shadow.


Together, we were a promise kept, two

silhouettes traced in starlight.

Shadows fade, and in the stars, a silent

light awaits those who seek.

Here we are.

She remembered.

Eventually.

And yes.

The café.

The stars.

The silhouettes.

All real.

Wrong man.

A surprisingly consequential detail.

 

But that's not really what happened

here.

Cassandra has spent a great deal of

her life looking for something beyond

herself.

Gods.

Love.

Signs.

The occasional celestial intervention.

She does like evidence.

 

This time, something is different.

She doesn't need the vision to tell her

who she is.

She already knows.

Or perhaps, finally, she has become

her.

 

Some parts haven't happened yet.

That's all right.

Not everything has to arrive at once.

For now, something far more important

has.

Cassandra herself.

Given how long she's been looking,

I'd say that's quite enough for one

night.