A prisoner of spiteful, infantile gods, she was trapped in the heavens. The years had passed casting doubt over her memories. What had it even been like on Earth? Her time among deities had allowed her to absorb a hint of their power so she carved out her own corner of the sky and crafted it like the ballroom she thought she remembered. As the sun gods slept, she danced under the noctilucent clouds to her own silent tune, sweeping under the chandeliers her father had designed and between columns she had hidden behind as a child.
She shrouded her corner in darkness so no-one outside could see the illumination within. Nor hear the sound of the waves crashing at her feet as she tiptoed between rockpools that glistened in the moonlight. Bubbles tickled her bare toes as she relieved her last memories over and over again, etching them into her psyche. Each time she swayed past the mirror she caught the reflection of her mother’s face. Hair the colour of fire and eyes as blue as ice; it was as if she could command the element’s themselves.
When the night gods took their turn to slumber, she cast aside her illusions waiting impatiently to conjure up her memories once again. Each day, she did as was bade, knowing how to dodge the moods of the gods and stay out of sight, unnoticed. But one day, whispers began to flow through the court, a wild wind that caught speed and strength with each telling. Brocken spectres were appearing in the midnight skies, cast by the moon herself. That night she hurried breathlessly to her corner of the heavens and looked up to the moon. Finally, they had returned for her.