The Star, Mother Fate and the Old Oak Tree

Any constructive criticism would be much appreciated :)

If one lives to see everything, and everything can take a long time, there isn’t much left in the world that could interest you enough to fall. Or so one star thought.

It was after a string of cloudy nights, where a grey veil separates our world from theirs, that the Star looked upon something of interest. It shined a little brighter in the night sky that evening as it edged closer to watch two young country folk carve their names in the bough of an old oak.

A young woman, a young man and a silver shining dagger. The star edged a little closer. Through the canopy of leaves it could just make out the initials. A wobbly ‘J’ and a sharp ‘S’. But what was the young man saying? At his words the girl cried and they parted. How infuriating it was that the earth should be so far away, thought the Star. No sound ever reached his ears.

If the Star had learned one thing from all his time hanging from the heavens, it was where to go when one wanted to hear a story. Not just any old stories, but the stories. So with a single direction in mind, the star aimed at earth and fell a few miles short of his target. He secretly hoped the other stars hadn’t seen his bad aim. What he needed was a compass.

A few miles to the left burned a light, housed by a cottage the star knew never to be empty. One foot placed carefully in front of the other (the star rather enjoyed what the earthlings had always called ‘walking’), and miles turned into meters and before too long the star found himself knocking on the cottage door. It opened to reveal the figure of Mother Fate, preoccupied with what the Star thought to be a kettle. She was outlined by a warm glow, which gave her the appearance of an angel though the Star knew she hadn’t flown in centuries.

'I believe, the best place to sit is by the fire', Mother Fate’s sweet southern drawl whispered in his mind, 'I myself prefer the armchair.'

The Star, puffing out his chest, stepped into the cottage and admired the roof above him. So this was what it felt like to have a roof over your head, smiled the Star. It was strangely… comfortable. And the walls, they were covered in mismatched bookshelves, oily paintings and strange ticking ornaments. One such ornament looked like a compass, its little hands quivering as it showed the star north and south. Looking around him, he suddenly desired nothing more than to curl up in front of the fire, drink scalding hot water and fumble with paper like he had seen earthlings do a thousand times. He might even pour the water onto the paper as an earthling man had once done. Mother Fate chuckled.

After testing each possible seat in the room, a window seat, a kitchen chair, a milking stool, the Star decided Mother Fate had been right, and took a seat on the rug by the fire. She joined him with a steaming mug of the hot water and pulled a heavy leather bound book from a shelf. It smelt to the star oddly sweet but rich.

'Shall we begin?' She asked.

The Star nodded eagerly.

'It’s a small storey, but then I find small things to be rather grand,' she smiled at the star who stopped trying to make himself look bigger.

'James, such a strapping young man, met Sarah at the Harvest Ball. Those two couldn’t take their eyes of each other, and by the end of the week James was on one knee proposing. Sarah accepted, of course. Only James’ father didn’t accept her. He forbade their union!'

The star slopped some tea onto his lap in surprise. He had seen this happen countless times over the centuries, millions of times! But that it happened to his James and Sarah?

'Course, James always was stubborn, and when his father said he’d disown him if he ever so much as considered marrying her, he just walked right out the door.'

'James and Sarah met that night by the old oak atop the hill near their town. Carving their names on the tree, he promised he would make money somewhere, anywhere he could and then come back for her. Sarah didn’t take it too well, Mother Fate sighed, and when James’ took a job aboard a ship and that ship was lost at sea… well, poor Sarah, she just lost all hope.'

The star let his mug clatter to the ground. He waved his arms at Mother Fate.

'What? I ain’t telling the story wrong, that’s your mind telling you it’s wrong. But it ain’t over yet.'

The star protested further.

'I can’t tell you the ending yet ‘cause their still alive. It took you a couple of years to fall.'

He let his arms drop and stopped protesting. Instead the star took a step forward.

'Well, I do believe that might be written somewhere… let me see, let me see… yes, sure as the sun rises, a little star does find James and bring him home to his Sarah, only he’ll need a compass first… Star?'

But the star was gone, as fast as his short little legs could carry him. Mother Fate chuckled as she put the book back on the shelf and retrieved the star’s fallen mug. The compass on her wall was missing.