Simultaneously, I saw the nature of Aster’s newness.Fragments of his soul had interacted with humanity thousands of years ago, even as far back as the nine muses of ancient Greece.He was Calliope and her poetry, Euterpe and her music, Urania and her knowledge of the stars.But he was none of them.
The original nine phased out of their corporeal lives eons ago, even before the Greeks spoke of them.Aster, as Aster, only reached his current existence when I called him into it.
When I looked into his past before me, once shrouded in mystery but now an open book, I saw stars and the sun and the ocean.But none of it felt personal.I saw smiles and heard laughter and tears, but I could never make out a single face.The only face that Aster knew, I realized, was mine.I was the only person he knew for sure still existed on a blindly populated planet and the only one he could invest himself in.At one point he had mentioned that he liked feeling like the two of us were the only people on the planet.Our isolation was more than a fantasy for him; it was his natural outlook.Him and me and nothing else.
Did other muses scour the world now, equally fascinated by those they inspired?
I had no way to know for sure.I couldn’t sense them completely.Some of Aster’s knowledge remained sacred to himself.But I saw what he saw in me.Aster viewed me as more than a prize.Even more than a soul mate.It was no wonder he hadn’t wanted to meet my parents.That would have turned me into a commoner to him, an ordinary person sans potential.
Only an orphan could be great, after all.
Only a person without a family.Without other people.
I was neither.And that was where everything fell apart.
I still didn’t understand the race he referred to as the Fates.I thought the answer would appear as soon as I gazed deep enough into Aster’s consciousness.These unsettling figures had never shown up in his previous life or lives.Aster had only known humans before, and only other sides of his muse-self.
But Aster was different from his predecessors.Tragically different.He didn’t waltz when he walked the way they did.He didn’t drape himself solely in white.He sweat.He mumbled under his breath and hogged the blankets in bed.He looked tired and stressed out whenever he pushed himself to his limits.
I had given Aster a life of his own...but possibly at the cost of mine.
I lay awake in the bed and tried to make sense of it all.From time to time, I turned my head and looked at him sleeping beside me.His chest rose and fell in a predictable rhythm.I couldn’t see his eyes or scan them for movements, but it looked to me like he had fallen into a dream.
Before I got out of the bed, I reached over and brushed through his hair with my fingers.It was coarser than I remembered, and slick with oil.My phantom memories of the muse world told me that his hair should be lighter than feathers, not thick and human.I hadn’t merely imagined the changes that came over him since we met.Likewise, Aster was right to worry about his immortality.
I pulled my hand back and looked at my fingers intently.
Moments later I got up.I didn’t feel tired anymore.I didn’t feel much of anything at all.I ignored the movements in the shadows and decided to shower before deciding what to do next.
I feared the exchange between us, and I realize that we might be worse off, not better.But it was true I felt more energized, more optimistic than I had earlier—true also that I looked forward to the conversations that waited for us after he woke from his nap.He couldn’t hide anything from me now.Nor could he lie to me or mislead me.The two of us really were something else.
After resolving to have a good day and make up for my past frustrations, I pushed open the door to the bathroom.First I remembered the glass, right as I saw it, still broken and shattered.I couldn’t even enter this room without needing a pair of sandals to protect myself from any remaining shards.
It was only on the second glance that I saw something that made my heart skip a beat.My reflection did not exist.I looked into the mirror and saw only the open door and the hallway behind me.
The remaining glass on the mirror reflected the room behind me and the light from the hall.Otherwise I saw only the back wall of the bathroom itself.
I looked down to protect my feet from potential glass splinters, and then I stepped forward.There could be no mistaking it.Whatever Aster did dragged me deeper into his delusions.The hallucinations.And how could they have been anything other than hallucinations?
I showered.The water created a barrier of rain-like white noise that helped me drown out my darker thoughts.I loved feeling like a person again, remembering the brisk inhalations and toe-tips of my humanity.I didn’t know how long Aster planned to sleep in the bed, but in the meantime I could plan a full day.
This differed from a return to normal or any “before.”Even now the shadows contrasted with the light more than I remembered.The bathroom appeared dark as if I had left the light off, even though I knew I hadn’t.
I turned off the water.Then I stood in the shower, wet, naked, and I held a single hand in front of my face.The pallor of my skin could have been a natural result of the darkness that followed me in here.I needed to go outside, see the sun.My heart sped when I thought of a trip to the beach after breakfast.I checked the mirror a final time and tried not to panic at the fact that I still couldn’t see my reflection looking back.
I’d let him sleep.He could sleep, and I could be awake for the first time in far too long.
I decided on Honeycrisp apples for breakfast because they were what I had.I ate one, and marveled at the pop in the taste and texture.When I finished and saw that I was still hungry, I snatched a second and bit into it.I let the juice run down my arms while I ate and enjoyed the sensation of something wet and trickling over my skin before I wiped it up.
Before I left the house for the beach, I considered checking on Aster or leaving a note to explain my absence.I also looked at my laptop on the desk in the living room and thought about re-reading a few pages of the book or adding more to it as a pleasant surprise.But the thought of writing made bile build up in my throat.Perhaps my illness had healed, but I still needed to let my emotions settle before doing anything more.
The morning was cool, and the water felt icy to my touch when I reached the beach moments later.A scattering of clouds dotted the sky, fluffy and white and far away.Nothing that threatened a storm at sea, but I realized just from looking at them that this wasn’t going to be the sunny beach day I had hoped for myself.
After a few moments of wading, I walked back up to the sand and sat down, hugging my knees to my chest while my hips and feet sank deeper into the dry, cool patches of sand.I wanted the ocean to look clear and open like before, but it looked pinched instead, gray and hostile.
I couldn’t see anyone else, but still I felt that I was not alone here.
I hugged my arms around my chest and looked around for any sign of an intruder.While I saw no one at first, I became uncomfortably aware of a rhythm in the waves lapping in front of me.The waves sounded as if they were speaking.More specifically, they sounded like they were warning me.Be-ware, be-waaare, over and over like a choral chant.
