Proto stared at the Lord of Dreams, hovering in a mirk of whirling stars. His words echoed in Proto’s head: “Now, there’s something I have to tell you! I hope you’re listening, because this is awfully important.”

  “There’s something I have to tell you about Astrid.” Zeal gleamed in Somnus’ eyes. “I’d mentioned that, if you picked her—if she were your true love—she could leave this place with you. She could finally receive that human body she’d yearned for these last few millennia. And she’s known that all along, throughout all you’ve done and seen and felt together.”

  “What I didn’t mention was,” winced Somnus with a smile, “she could’ve left a couple weeks ago. It was her Saturn Return. And she’d collected enough Breath Tokens to finally depart. 777,777.”

  “That’s what they’re there for, you see,” he explained. “I only have so many living bodies to dole out to my Lost Spirits. If anyone’s determined enough to collect 777,777 Breath Tokens, why, clearly drawing breath means a lot to her! And so I make it happen.”

  “It doesn’t happen often,” he shrugged. “It took Astrid 3,000 years! She’s been gambling for Breath Tokens since before cards existed!”

  “Then, when the long-awaited day came for her to leave, what did she do?” said Somnus. “She chose to stay here! She wanted to be here when you made your decision. Maybe you noticed she seemed a little shaky recently? Hard to blame her, maybe?”

  “In other words,” the Lord of Dreams explained, “she wasn’t using you to get out of here. She didn’t even need you for that! No, what she needs you for”—he held his hand over his heart—“is something quite different.”

  Proto recalled that gaze of violet earnesty, frozen upon her face, as she and the others stood unmoving back in the lounge. Abruptly, he felt ashamed to his core that, even for a moment, he’d doubted her.

  “Pardon me for misleading you about her,” shrugged Somnus with an apologetic smile. “But if you’d believed me—if you’d believed she was using you to get out of here—well, I’ll tell you what, that’s not true love! And I had to be sure. I can’t hand out my few bodies willy-nilly!”

  As Somnus spoke, the mists were dwindling down. What their absence revealed, however, was not the lounge. It was the darkling heavens, fraught with nebulae and galaxies.

  And it was a bedroom. At the center of the starscape, there stood two wardrobes, two nightstands, two starry lamps—and one huge bed.

  “Ahh,” admired Somnus, tapping his wand on a shooting-star-shaped bedpost. “I even impress myself sometimes.”

  “Sometimes?” mused Proto, taking it all in.

  “Touché, Provisional Visitor!” acknowledged Somnus. “I mean, Visitor. A thousand pardons, Visitor Proto. You’ve lost your Provisional!” He leaned on the bed and eyed it. “I wonder, what else will you lose today?”

  “ . . . very funny. I’m 29.5, not 18,” replied Proto.

  “You think 29.5 is a long wait? Try 3,000 years!” admonished Somnus.

  Proto blinked. His eyes went wide.

  Somnus beamed. “Well, anyway, at least you’re dressed for the occasion.” He waved at Proto’s robe. “I know you all gibe and jeer at my raiment. But doesn’t it just work in a place like this?” He spread his arms toward the glow-spangled empyrean.

  Looking down at the grand robe of blue and yellow falling down his form, Proto couldn’t help but agree—even if he did look like he was going to a formal dinner hosted by Gandalf and Saruman.

  “Anyway, I’ve talked enough.” Somnus opened the lone door hovering in the nightscape. Light streamed in from beyond it. “Hope you like the couple’s suite! Love’s about finding that space where two people intersect. I did my best. Have a good time!” With a genial wave, he strolled out and slammed the door.

  At that instant, Astrid blinked into being in front of Proto, abruptly unfrozen. Her mouth continued opening toward the words she’d been about to speak in the lounge—then stopped. She blinked and looked around.

  “And . . . she’s back!” observed Proto.

  “What . . . ?” she managed, squinting at the unbounded starriness.

  He supposed this must seem a little odd. “I can explain—”

  “No.” She shook her downcast head, so silvery tresses hid her gaze. “First, I have to explain. What Somnus said earlier. What he made you think about me.” Words rushed out breathlessly. “Do you know those Breath Tokens—?”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “I know. I know,” he interrupted, holding up a hand. “He told me just now.”

  She looked up at him. “Did he explain . . . a couple weeks ago . . . ?”

  “He explained.” Proto clasped both her hands.

  She nodded. Her violet eyes shimmered. “You gave me the last two, Proto. The two Breath Tokens that added up to 777,777. The two that would’ve let me leave,” she recalled tremblingly. “That was the moment I knew—I wasn’t going to use them. One way or another, I wasn’t going to use them.

  Proto started to smile, but his brow furrowed. “One way or . . . another?”

  She looked away, silent for a moment. “Most of us Lost Spirits never get bodies. We spend some span of years here. Then, once we’ve had our fill of life—or at least, this life-like existence—we can choose to go to the Mists. You know. The same place all living men are bound for.”

  “I’d longed for life. And it’d finally come within reach,” she recalled. “But it was that moment, when you handed me those Breath Tokens, that I decided I’d never use them. I decided, if I couldn’t have life with—if you hadn’t felt the same way that I . . . ”

  Astrid blinked and faced away, wiping her eyes. When she lowered her hands, they glistened.

  “You see”—her voice was wobbly, but her lips curved up—“I’m a very old lady after all. I’d had quite enough of everything from life, except life itself. And if I couldn’t have that with you, then . . . ” She looked toward the swirling mists of far off nebulae and smiled wistfully.

  Proto drew her toward him, his hand sliding up her arm. Her violet eyes were suddenly wide and blinking up at him, impossibly young and innocent.

  He leaned forward and kissed her. As his eyes closed, the violet fire-fraught cosmos in her pupils, reflecting him, gave way to a glory of swirling stars within his mind’s eye and his tingling breast. It felt unbounded.

  Indeed, it lingered after their lips and eyelids parted. It glimmered in their gazes.

  “Well,” managed Proto. “What a start.”

  “Yes!” blushed Astrid.

  They stared upon the starry nightscape for a while.

  Well, she did, and he did at first. But he found his gaze falling to some silvery-blue tresses, and the way they spilled over a grey jumpsuit. And how its stripes of purple and blue followed her form, outward and inward, and again. And how . . .

  Smiling, he returned his gaze to the night sky. “I wonder where the Earth is out there.”

  “Right there.” She pointed instantly, and he eyed her in bemusement. “What? Surprised? People were really into the stars when I was young. My name even means star, you know!”

  “And you want to go down there to Earth,” he mused. “Not just stay here in starry dreamland.”

  “That’s right!” she affirmed. “We’ll be leaving here and heading there ASAP. You can give me a tour.”

  “Somnus’ Palace isn’t cutting it for you anymore?” he asked.

  “Oh, I’ve liked it here,” she said. “But 3,000 years is a long time. And there are . . . things that can be done down there but not here.” Her cheeks pinkened, and she spoke carefully.

  “ . . . wait.” Proto’s eyes went wide. “You’re saying that while we’re here, for 29.5 years, we can’t . . . um.” His gaze fell upon that huge bed.

  She was red now. “We can just fine! But we’re not all I’m concerned about, Slow Bro!”

  At first, his eyes went even wider, if that was possible.

  Then, a memory flashed through his recollection:

  A little girl sprinted in front of them . . . Her feet were bare, and she looked skinnier than she should. Her hair bounced behind her in a rudimentary braid. She glanced behind her fearfully . . .

  Astrid opened her mouth and started to hold up a hand, a look of infinite tenderness on her face.

  Like an echo, another memory followed:

  “What do you need all those Tokens for?” he asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she mused absently. “I’ve just always dreamt of having a little girl, and—”

  She blinked twice, then gave Proto a violet-eyed glance.

  Proto felt himself smiling. “Once we’re down there, will we soon be expecting a visitor?”

  “Well, I sure hope so!” she mumbled.

  Proto hugged her.

  She blushed. “So! I hope we’re on the same page about what’s going to happen in 29.5 years and nine months!”

  “Golly. That’s a lot of pressure,” he observed.

  “Yes! A lot will be riding on you,” she agreed.

  “What, 115 pounds or so?” he asked.

  She tilted her head at him.

  Then, violet eyes flaring, she swatted at his head, mussing up his hair. “This is not a joking matter!”

  “Agreed, agreed!” he laughed. “We’ll, ah, need lots of practice for this very serious matter.”

  “Well.” She looked away. “We have 29.5 years to get good at this.” She blinked twice, pinkening.

  “How soon do we start?” asked Proto.

  “Well.” She glanced at him, then looked away. “A matter like this is too important for any procrastination!”

  “ . . . now?”

  She flushed. “Are you really going to make me say this more clearly, Proto? After 3,000 years of modesty?”

  Laughing, he lifted the back of her hand to his lips. As he kissed it gently, she was all blinking violet innocence. Turning toward the bed, her hand still enclasped, he led her to the edge.

  Then, he paused. “Question, Astrid.”

  “Yes, Proto?”

  “Um,” he said. “ . . . what if it’s not . . . ”

  “Not what, Proto?” she sweetly replied. “Don’t ruin this moment!”

  “ . . . not a little girl,” he finished.

  She blinked.

  Then, laughter bubbled from her. “Is that all? What, you think I’m loony? Like I’d hold it against you? Of course not! We’d just have to keep going. And going and going and . . . you know. Like that old battery commercial with the rabbit. Yes, like rabbits.”

  “Now you’re speaking my language, Nastrid!” he enthused.

  She flushed. “I’ll have you know, I’m very modest! Let’s see you wait 3,000 years for . . . ” She trailed off, somehow reddening further.

  “Really?” he marveled. “3,000 years . . . ?”

  “What are you reallying me about!” she chided. “It just so happens there’s one girl out there who believes in true love. And she’s standing right in front of you!”

  Proto looked at Heaven and laughed.

  “I hope you’re not laughing at me, Proto!” she cried.

  He clasped her arms again and smiled with everything he had. “Astrid, you’re one of a kind.”

  “Lucky you!” She leaned her head against his breast. “But luckier me.”

  They stayed that way a while. Then, together, her hand in his, they approached the bed.

  Space unbounded sprawled above them. Worlds whirled about their stars, and stars swirled themselves to galaxies unnumbered.

  And yet, for one night, for one star-crossed pair, it felt like all of this—all those shining heavenly revolutions—dimly revolved around what blazed between them.