Fairytale 4. Star Architects

     In ancient times, by a tall, tall tower that reached the center of the Universe, there lived a Star Architect. He slept all day and came out at night to count the stars in the Southern Hemisphere and to ensure that constellations stayed in their rightful places, preventing them from wandering across the sky. This Star Architect had a daughter.

     On the other side of the world, another Star Architect watched over the constellations in the Northern Hemisphere. He had a son.

     One day, just as dawn broke over the Northern Hemisphere and the Star Architect went to sleep, his son, Laurent, quietly snuck into his father’s laboratory to observe the constellations of both the Northern and Southern skies.

     Laurent gazed in awe through a golden telescope at the Big Dipper, Cassiopeia, and Gemini when, suddenly, he noticed a golden-haired girl dancing in a cosmic meadow near Venus. She danced so beautifully that he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She would spin like a petal on water, soar among the stars like a butterfly. Laurent was so captivated by the mysterious girl that he didn’t notice evening had come.

     "And what are you doing here?" his father, the Star Architect, asked loudly.

     Laurent jumped in surprise and nearly knocked over the crystal ball standing on a tall pedestal next to the telescope.

     "Me? Nothing. I was just..." he muttered quietly.

     "If it’s nothing, then be on your way," said the Star Architect, frowning.

     With his gaze downcast, Laurent quickly darted out of his father’s laboratory.

     The Star Architect pulled a pair of golden-framed glasses from the pocket of his blue cloak, put them on, and looked through the telescope himself, curious about what his son had been observing.

     "So, he was watching the neighboring constellations," chuckled the Star Architect, adjusting the lenses of the telescope. "My boy’s grown curious. He’ll make a worthy successor."

     But he didn’t see the girl, for at that moment, the Southern Star Architect had called his daughter to breakfast.

     Many days, a few weeks, and eventually a whole month passed like this. Every day, Laurent watched the girl, who danced each day in the meadow near Venus. His father, observing the constellations each night, felt proud, thinking his son was diligently studying the stars, and even allowed him to use the laboratory.

     One day, the daughter of the Southern Star Architect, Likit, approached her father and asked,

     "Father, what is that star that’s been shining so brightly in the North every day for a month? I never noticed it before."

     "A star, you say?" the Star Architect replied in surprise. Taking a pair of silver-framed glasses from his green cloak, he began to examine his star scroll.

     "There haven’t been any new stars for a year, and there shouldn’t be for another. Unless… maybe it appeared earlier?"

     "But why would it shine during the day?" asked Likit.

     "Little stars are like children," smiled the Star Architect. "They’re afraid of the dark, so we Star Architects must personally guide them onto the night sky. If the sun and the stars were to shine together by day, people would go blind, and the moon would fade away from loneliness."

     Wishing sweet dreams to the southern constellations at dawn, the Southern Star Architect did not go to sleep as usual. Instead, he took his telescope and began to examine the northern borders of the sky, searching for this young star. Within a few minutes, the Star Architect noticed a sparkle between two comets.

     He zoomed in as far as his telescope would allow�"and instead of a star, someone else’s eye stared back through a telescope. The startled Southern and Northern Star Architects both jumped back, scratched their heads, and thought,

     "What’s he peeking at me for?"

     Then, gathering themselves, the Star Architects decided to travel to each other for a meeting. The Northern Star Architect saddled the Great Bear from the constellation Ursa Major, and the Southern one chose Pegasus from the constellation Pegasus, and off they went.

     But meeting was not so simple for the Star Architects, as the Milky Way separated their domains. They couldn’t cross it on foot, and they had no boats nearby, so they decided to shout across to each other.

     "What are you peeking into my territory for?" shouted the Northern Architect, waving his fist.

     "What are you staring into mine all day?" the Southern one shouted back. "It’s been a whole month already."

     "Why would I be interested in your territory to stare at it?" the Northern Star Architect began to protest, then stopped to think. "A month, you say?"

     The Northern Architect remembered that it was precisely a month ago that he first caught his son in his laboratory.

     "It wasn’t me watching you, neighbor," the Northern Star Architect laughed. "It seems my son Laurent was admiring your daughter, Likit."

     "So that’s it," said the Southern Star Architect, stroking his long black beard.

     And just as he opened his mouth to say something more, laughter rang out from behind some asteroids. The Star Architects looked over�"and there were Laurent and Likit, riding on Cygnus from the constellation Cygnus, gliding along the Milky Way, with little silver star-fairies placing wreaths on their heads, woven from magical flowers that grew in a neighboring galaxy.

     The Star Architects then understood that fate had destined them to be not only neighbors but also family.

     The next day, they held a grand wedding�"so grand that even Saturn’s rings rang and rattled.

     And I was there, too. I wandered among the constellations, flew on a flying saucer, drew crop circles, and now�"I’ve told you everything.