By: Laura Lee Cochran 2025
Sidra always had a way of dancing on the stars that no one else seemed to possess. She did so full of an elegance and whimsy that far surpassed her years. Some say it’s because of her upbringing, being a daughter of sunlight as it may, but I like to believe it truly is because she has twinkling toes always ready for an ensemble in the late hours of the night.
I watch her as she twirls upon each star, first is Aries, then Aldebaran, and then gently crescendoing upon Cepheus. At each star, a certain ping of entrancement overtakes me. Her dancing tells a story all on its own.
With each movement, her fiery dress, the color of starlight itself, twists around her: giving color to what would be an ordinary dark night sky. From a distance, she looks as if she herself could be a shooting star. I might as well start my wishing now, because before I know it, the shooting star will be gone. I think of a wish, one so strong that it might overcome me, and I whisper it softly into the solar system.
She continues in a symphony of movement and radiant color. Dancing on the stars as if they are stepping stones. You can hear audible gasps and cheers with each movement and spin. Jumping in the air doing aerial arts as if it’s nothing.
She does a breathtaking spin, and like that, her performance is over. Her chest expanding in and out deeply as her stance breeds curiosity. One hand pointed to the heavens, and the other to the earth. A star stands under both of her feet, as a yellow drapery of her dress flows by her ankle. She stands up straight, now both feet on one star and bows for the audience.
Around us, celestials round up an enormous applause for the daughter of sunlight. A grin crosses her face as she finds me to the side, so bright and delightful, my eyes might never have known what darkness was with that glance. She swiftly jumps star to star and jumps upon the stage platform to meet me.
“How was I?” she asks, her eyes seeking the opinion of one amongst hundreds. Something I may never understand.
“Marvelous. Just as always,” I reply. I take her hand in mine, and raise it to my lips. A simple gesture, but oh, how I long for more.
“Oh Caelum,” she beams, holding her hand for just a moment longer before taking it back. “What do you think the King thought?”
I take a look to the side of the audience. An arrangement of floating chairs in the sky made of twirled brass and jewels. Throughout the aisles, many celestials sit in their extravagant attire, of glitter and sparkles that are made to make them stand out against the stars. Though, copying a star can never grant such a feat.
Unlike the audience, the King and his Queen sit in a dual seat made of the most expensive silver all formed together to resemble the moon. He sits there, his head on his chin, and the faintest smile across his face, while the queen sits in utter jubilee, still clapping alongside the audience.
“I imagine he is proud of you as always,” I state.
“Yes, but do you think it was enough to change his mind,” she asks earnestly, hoping for another orbit she may call her own, and one I am not sure will be granted to her.
I look her in her eyes, a hue of blue that outshines the milky way, “I am not sure any of us will know what the King has to say on that matter. What you can know is that you put on a show stopping performance. As you always do. No need to worry any further.”
She looks to the ground, almost in an unfamiliar way, as if she’s so used to dancing on stars she’s forgotten what a level platform looks like. She nods, agreeing to what I said, or perhaps to reconcile herself to the fact her fate is not in her own hands. My dear Sidra, how I wish so much for you.
“Caelum,” she mutters.
“Yes,” I don’t even hesitate.
“If it be so, this could be my last performance if the King gets what he so desires.”
“That could surely be the case, though it’s not like you to be so pessimistic. That’s often my duty.”
She giggles. “Yes I am quite aware of that. Though tonight has me… glum.”
“I know my dear,” I say, saddened.
“Since you have not heard anything-”
“That could change,” I interrupt. Trying to keep her spirits up.
“If it doesn’t. Do you think it is possible we will meet one last time, here, before I go. So I may….”
She doesn’t have time to finish her sentence, for she is now being shuffled away by guards. It It seems it is time for her to return to the palace for the evening.
Before she is too far gone, I yell out to her, “Your wish is mine!”
She smiles, before the light is hidden behind figures wearing deep blue. Around me, the closing remarks for the performance sound away as many celestials are leaving the audience platform and crossing to their personal chariots. The King and Queen, I see, are ushered to their own. It is dazzling and full of designs of moon craters and milky ways carved in their signature silver. They drive down to our platform, and as they drive away, I see the hint of an orange fabric in the door of the chariot, knowing Sidra is now facing what she wishes not to face.
Being a daughter of sunlight requires a great deal of commitment to the balance of the solar system. We all have been born from sources in the solar system. Most are formed from stars, some from nebulae, planets, or even the milky way. Our royal kingdom has always been run by those born from the moon due to their broadening and warrior-like spirit, but those born of the sun, they hold a greater responsibility. They are often the rarest of celestials and only come once in a millennia, and for the sole purpose of benefiting the solar system. Which is why her birth was so famous, and now that she has reached the age of release, her galaxial duties are to come soon after.
I eventually step off the platform and make it to my own chariot. Mine, resembling my clan's birth star, Pyxis, that of the compass. Molded with titanium, with the North, East, South, and West all according to the front and sides of the chariot. After all, those born of Pyxis are told to be prophets of direction and the true path to take. Which to my luck, is why I have been summoned to befriend and cater to everything Sidra wants.
As I tip my driver and enter into my chariot, the past three months shine through my memory. My clan is often seen as the odd balls, never taken seriously, and often used as an excuse for making wrong decisions. Many of those born from the Pyxis work around books or trying to coax people into believing their spewing lies of sudden misfortune.
Our clan hasn’t seen a true prophet in over a decade. Not until I came along. Thus, my life was never ordinary. From a young age, I took on apprenticeship after apprenticeship, being taught the ins and out of our solar system and social structure. Learning about the cosmos and stars and how we interact with them. All of this just so if I am ever able to, what they deem, an “encounter with light,” then I will have the means to decipher it. I find myself pessimistic, but when it comes to Sidra, I would do anything.
I was first introduced to her by the King himself. I was summoned to the palace, with no clue as to why. When I arrived, I found Sidra standing beside them, in a cream satin dress with orange overlays from her arms to the ground. Her hair down, all to one side, the color of Mars. But it was her blue eyes that drew me in.
Her majestic stature could not hold long though, for I found her to be much kinder when we officially met. She seemed nervous to meet me, it was as if I was her only hope. Though I didn’t know what the King desired of me, I knew at that moment, I would devote myself to whatever the woman before me desired. I could tell. Even though the sun seems impossible to inspect, for its ability to thwart your eyes on a mere glance, Sidra however, was like looking at glass. She wore her heart on her sleeves. And her heart screamed of a desire for freedom.
It was then when I realized, I was the one who held her true fate in hand. For it was either what the King had planned for her, or whatever I managed to hear from the great beyond. And when she looked at me, it’s as if I already held a far better fate than that of her own. And how I pray, each night, that I won’t disappoint her.
I am brought back to reality when my chariot stops at my dwelling on the rings of Saturn. There, much of my clan has set up shop with their book stores. The rings of Saturn make excellent shelves. I should know, my dwelling is built around one of the rings, giving myself a circular abode with books stacked to the ceiling on one side.
I step out as my chariot driver parks it outside of my dwelling and walks to his own. As I enter the inside, I walk up to my desk of my sporadic papers of written oracles and findings from the last children of sunlight. Most, it seems, met a similar fate as Sidra is soon to face.
Tomorrow morning is when fate has the final say, but for now, perhaps, it could change.
It’s as if I wander around my dwelling for hours, hoping for an epiphany, hoping for something. Some vision or dream. I attempt to sleep but keep finding it difficult with the certain circumstances. Nothing is coming. No book. No poem. No oracle or prophecy. The only thing that comes to mind is her dance from this past night, which I hope will not be her last.
I remember her dress, the way her face looked so at peace dancing. Who knew someone not born from a star could dance upon them so easily. Then I remember how there was a certain move she did that stood out to me. And it wasn’t so much her movement, but the stars she danced upon
The first had been Aries, a type of long line of star gatherings representing change. It also happens to be the lamb or sheep, often associated with Mars because of its red hue. As I think, I remember the second had been Aldebaran, the brightest star in the galaxy, having the meaning of a follower. And then finally it was Cepheus. Meaning king and portrays the image of a house.
I remember a jolt of energy at that combination during her performance. Immediately I shuffle to my desk and start flipping through books and old texts. I scan the pages, looking more for the history of the stars but not finding much else on the matter than what I’ve already known. I choose to finally sit at my desk, pull out my quill and paper and write them down, thinking getting it out of my head will help.
Aries. Aldebaran. Cepheus.
Lamb. Follow. King.
It's then, before the ink even dries on the paper, a light shines in the room and I hear a voice, smooth but stern.
“The Lamb shall follow the King. For it is the fate of all those born of sunlight. Their fate has always been written in the stars.”
Darkness erupts, darker than my dwelling ever has been. Not because the light has left, but because I just received the prophecy I’ve been hoping and waiting for, and all it does is confirm the very idea I’ve attempted to rise against. I finally “encountered the light,” just to be overcome with an overwhelming sense of darkness.
There is no hope of a new fate. It was already destined. Sidra will be gone…Sidra. I have to warn her, have to see her. Perhaps I could…
She said we could meet, at the stage once again. But how can I find her? The odds of the King allowing me into the palace so late at night is by far unimaginable. And if I were to enter on the pretense of my latest discovery, then it’s possible Sidra might have less of a chance of leaving the palace. This must be hidden. I must see her, and if I can, hide this truth from her. Let her keep the hope that there could have been another way. That this wasn’t written out before she was born. That it’s my fault, for not hearing anything.
I would do anything to let hope live in her for just a moment longer.
In the panic of my thinking, I hear a faint knock at my door, one resembling a familiar tune. In a moment I’m at the door, and there Sidra stands with a smirk and a deep blue hood over her performance dress.
“Sidra,” I gasp.
“Yes, I know, I shouldn’t have left like this but I thought…”
I put my hand on her shoulder, and it relaxes under my touch. Sending my heart into a new orbit. “I’m glad you came. I wanted to see you.”
“I brought my own chariot, would you like a ride?” she asks.
Before I have the chance to answer, she is pulling me outside the front door of my dwelling and to her chariot. A far more extravagant chariot than I’ve ever seen. Made of pure gold, with sunshines all throughout the designs. And it seems, she likes the old fashioned ones, pulled by the heavenly horses. Milky white and almost see through, the horses have light blue hair that seems to flow in a magical way. Their eyes of pure yellow stardust.
It then occurs to me that I’ve only ever seen her riding in the royal chariots. Never in what was really her home, forced to surrender to the King’s wishes. This thought causes a pain in my chest. That of heartache and pure rage.
She leaves me and walks up to the animals with a gentle greeting.
“You know where to take us,” she whispers, her head upon the horse’s.
A smile forms on her lips as she turns to me, so sweetly, and grabs my hand again. How I wish she will never let go. She leads me into the chariot and then we are on our way. Gallops can be heard outside as the night is filled with a familiar quietness. She leans her hand on my shoulder as we ride, not talking, just existing with one another. An artform, it seems.
Soon, theatre lights shine bright as the stage can be clearly seen from view. The chariot lets us off at the platform. Sidra jumps off first, and I follow suit. She turns to me, taking the hood of her cloak off and embracing the beauty of the solar system.
“It’s so beautiful,” she says.
“It is,” I reply. “But, of course, it doesn’t compare to you.
Her smile lifts me up, as if I am floating with Jupiter. She slowly unties her cloak and lets it fall to the platform. Her eyes reach the stage with a sheer passion. No music, no lighting. Just Sidra and the stars.
She dances. More passionately than she ever has before. With even more gusto than she did at the performance earlier in the evening. It’s a show, one of beauty, grace, and acceptance. And it’s for just me.
No. It’s for herself. And I’m just lucky to witness it.
She twirls and spins, jumping from star to star. With each moment, it’s as if the stars around her shine duller in comparison to her beauty. I can’t look away. I am entranced, yet again. But this time, in a way I don’t think I’ll ever be able to recover.
What will I do when my star dancer is gone?
“The Lamb shall follow the King. For it is the fate of all those born of sunlight. Their fate has always been written in the stars.”
I shake my head attempting to rid my mind of what is to come and be present in this moment. But I can’t stop myself. It’s as if gravity has come to join, for a water droplet meant to stay in has found a path along my cheek. I rest my head down, thinking myself unworthy to watch this performance, knowing what I am keeping from her.
It’s the small caress of my cheek, a thumb wiping the tear and landing on the lobe of my ear, that wakes me up. There she is, moments in front of me, holding my face as I cry when she has all the reason in the world to cry. She is losing everything. I’m losing her. But when I think about it, it seems to be the same thing, for she is my everything.
“Why do you cry, Caelum?” Her voice is like a shooting star: hopefilled.
“Your performance,” I mutter, more tears streaming now. “Is magnificent.”
“That can’t be why,” she giggles, her other hand now holding my other cheek. I raise my hand to hold hers, leaning my head into her hand. “You have seen my fate, have you not?”
My eyes go wide- “How did you-”
“I had faith it would soon come. I just did not know when. But with tonight being my last night, I assumed..” she trails off. “So what is it? Of my fate that is? Is it gruesome? Tiresome?”
“Oh Sidra,” I exhale. “What if we could just rewrite fate?”
“We are born of the cosmos, not one of them. We have no matter in playing in what we don’t understand,” she says, putting her hands on my shoulders. My hands drop to her waist, pulling her closer to me. I just want her closer, before…before…
“So tell me my fate, oh prophet of Pyxis,” she smirks.
I laugh softly, a funny name she has bestowed upon me since our meeting. Though now, I wish I was never given this burden. The burden of knowing.
“You must follow what the King has laid out before you. The Lamb must follow the King. It is the fate of those born of sunlight,” I say, with a weary head.
Somehow, I feel in this exchange of information, she has become the one to comfort me, as my head rests upon her shoulder and sobs escape me. I’ve known her for only a short time, but in that time it felt like an infinity. Yet with its ending close, I feel our relationship now has nowhere to grow and flourish. I want to tell her everything now. Everything I would say when we are old living together in a dwelling much closer to the sun to appease her affinity for light. Where we always go out in her chariot because it’s what she wants. Where I’m able to give her good morning kisses and a goodnight embrace. Where a life that is well lived and well lived together.
Instead, I just cry. Grieve the girl who stands before me, because I soon know she won’t be anymore.
It’s then, when I hear a sniffle from her. I raise my head, to see those beautiful blue eyes with a stream of tears dripping upon her lifted cheekbones. I raise my hand to wipe her tears, and when I do, she takes hold of it, and starts to bring me upon the stage.
“I’m not able to dance on stars,” I say, hesitant.
Her feet have already found a beautiful star to stand upon, Lyra, the constellation of the harp. As if she is inviting me into our own symphony.
“Trust me,” is all she says.
Trust her, I do.
I step onto a neighboring star, fumbling, but her hand steadies me. She brings me close, and takes my hand to hold her waist and my right art to hold hers in the air. And just like that, we are dancing on the stars. They are warm under my feet, but much more balanced than I thought. She takes moments to step aside, never letting go of my hand, to twirl or do a signature move. I catch her in my arms and at one moment, I take her by the waist and lift her up. Her laugh erupts and awakes the milky way.
It’s here, in this moment, I feel the most alive I ever have. Where the path seems so clear to me, that no matter the ending, as long as the path leads to Sidra, then I know it would have been a good one. For knowing her and losing her is far greater than surpassing an existence without her. For where would I know light if I never got to savor it like I am now.
Without even thinking, I stop dancing. While we balance on stars, I draw her in for a kiss. Something much more than I’ve done in the past, besides a gentle brush of the hand, or a kind goodbye embrace. But this, my... It’s like my head left and is dancing with the cosmos. The passion, the hunger I feel, and what I seem to be receiving back from her. It’s out of this world entirely. It’s radiant. It’s glorious. It’s love.
When I step back for air, I look to her. Her cheeks are painted with red and a smile rests on her face.
“My,” is all she says.
“If I over step,” I say, trying to be polite, knowing I am not sorry in the slightest, and I hope she is not either.
“Not at all,” she says flustered, “I am merely overcome with many emotions.”
That I am sorry for.
“I don’t want you to leave,” I say.
“I don't want to either. But my fate is my fate,” she sighs, leading me into a more calm dance.
“I wish my fate was to be with you. But I am still happy to know that fate played a hand in allowing me to meet you,” I say, with an understanding that exceeds my mental capacity at the moment.
“Likewise,” she beams.
We dance through the night, until it is time for her to report to the King in the morn. We leave the stars. I leave first, and Sidra lingers, knowing this will be her last time.
“One more dance?” I ask.
She smiles, “That’s alright. I want my last dance to be with you.” With that she jumps off the stage and onto the platform. Then we are making our way into the chariot and to the palace. It's then, when I first notice the haunting view over me. One of bleakness.
When we arrive, we are greeted by guards, who take her away from me, and I am issued to report to the king. I let him know the oracle for Sidra, to which he humbly accepts.
We are taken to the palace grounds where they set up the stage. Seats lined in silver with red satin cushions lay around a stage of pure marble. Hundreds of celestials are in attendance, all in extravagant attire, that of orange, with smiles ear to ear. They must think this is some kind of show. They don’t understand the gravity of the situation.
Above the palace, the moon usually stands, but now, the moon has moved in its orbit and it’s been replaced by the sun. It blares down on us, warming our skin and creating a bright light for the event.
The queen takes a seat while the king stands by me as a circle platform of engraved gold lays on the ground. The sound of a harp plays, and my heart skips a beat. Because finally I see Sidra again. Beauty enters the scene, but I know it won’t last.
Her dress is a burnt red, flowing all the way to the ground with a train of etched meteors. A layered gold necklace lays upon her chest in the deep v cut of her garment. Atop her head lays a golden wreath with dazzling jewels. Rubies can be found throughout the dress, shining like the stars she used to dance on.
She is radiant, as always. But with a somber look that often does not follow. She walks on top of the platform and looks at me with a soft smile. Then she mouths the words: I love you.
I mouth back: I always have.
She looks to the audience, who is cheering and hollering. The King states the affairs about to commence, but I can not listen. All I can hear is my heart beating within me against my chest, begging for a way to escape and be with Sidra. But alas, it is caged within my bones.
The platform begins to rise, much higher than the palace itself, to where we can barely see her. In fact, I move out of the way so I can get one more glance at her. The stars now are around her, this time, it seems they are the ones dancing. As if to say goodbye to their good friend.
A cymbal is played, the harp intensifies, and Sidra stands there as a beam of sunlight comes and shines on her. It’s then, when she starts to form into star dust, slowly fading away in the beam of the sunlight, floating up to where the sun resides. Giving her soul back to where she originated.
My heart asks why. Why must the sun take back what it gave?
And I hear the faintest voice, the same as before.
“Because her role was only for a time. She has completed it. She must come home.”
“But what was her role?” I whisper out to the solar system, hoping for an answer.
I can't find one. Instead, I get one last glance of Sidra, a smile on her face, to the audience, and then slowly, to only me. In a moment, I look at the audience, seeing the joy on all their faces. They aren’t smiling because they don’t understand, they are smiling because Sidra did something in their life. Gave them more than a performance, reminded them of beauty. Something too often forgotten.
When I look up, I realize my mistake, for even looking away for a second, when I return she is no more, but now at home to be with the sun. I watch as the ember of star dust floats up to the sun, my heart dropping at the same time. The audience breaks out into tears and yells of love and adoration. The king gives me a pat on the back and makes his way to his queen. Everyone disperses, and so do I.
Somehow, I find myself back at the theatre, looking for her amongst the stars. Knowing the beauty I got to behold as she danced upon them. I may never see a sight so profound, I may never understand a love like that. But I will never lose the memory of the pure beauty of my star dancer.
The End