Page 80 of Stars in Nova

His curious eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint that preceded trouble or creativity. His voice was often lifted in enthusiasm and wonder. He peppered his sentences with questions, his mind always turning.

Malik wore tunics loose enough for running and climbing and patched trousers that showed his rough-housing propensity.

Around his neck was a small leather cord with a polished stone—something he claimed was his lucky charm.

His bare feet were calloused from his endless explorations of the cavern.

From the moment he caught sight of Kisan, Malik was captivated.

‘Why do your eyes glow?’ he asked, in awe and delight. ‘Are you a wizard? Or warlock?’

The Rider smirked, the shadow of a smile touching his lips. ‘Nada. Just different.’

Malik was undeterred. ‘Your magic is awesome! They move! Can you make them do tricks?’

Kisan held out his arm, the black and green ink shimmering as it responded to his command.

Malik gasped, his hands brushing over the patterns.

His excitement was palpable. ‘They’re alive!’ he exclaimed, his lilting voice echoing in the cavern.

‘They are,’ the Guardian rasped. ‘Just a part of me, they express if I’m happy or sad, and now, they’re pumped to be around you.’

Malik grinned. ‘That’s so cool. I want some when I grow up.’

‘Is that right, child?’ Misandra drawled from the other side of the room.

‘May I get some too?’ Liora asked. ‘On my cheeks?’

At seven years old, she was the quieter of the two, though no less observant. Her straight, dark hair fell to her shoulders, tied back with a simple ribbon.

Her eyes were deep and soulful, a mirror of Samira’s, and they seemed to take in everything around her with an unspoken wisdom.

Her voice was soft, almost musical, with a thoughtful cadence contrasting her brother’s exuberance.

She only spoke when she had something meaningful to say, but when she did, her words carried power.

Liora was often seen with a small leather-bound book filled with her sketches of the caverns, the people, and the remnants of their once-lush world.

She wore a simple, sturdy, and practical fabric dress with a belt pouch where she kept charcoal for her drawings.

On her wrist was a braided bracelet Malik had made for her, the threads worn but lovingly repaired.

Liora’s fascination with Kisan was quieter but no less intense.

She gazed at him with wonder, lingering on the glow of his tattoos and the luminescent green of his eyes.

‘If your mother approves, you can get the prettiest one ever. What are you thinking?’

‘I want a cavern mouse; they’re so cute.’

The Rider chuckled. ‘I’m sure they are.’

‘Do they hurt?’ she asked, her small hand hovering over his forearm.

Kisan shook his head. ‘Not at all.’

She tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. ‘They’re beautiful. Like the fairy lights in the lake.’

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