_WHAT ASTER WAS._
For several days the two, Eva and Aster, wandered through the forest
with no object in view, and returned every evening to rest upon the
soft, mossy bed which now covered the place where the golden fountain
had once played. The scarlet berries of the vine surrounding it gave
them food. The young moon, floating in the sky, gave them light; for
while she shone, it was their day; when, suddenly as she arose, she
would drop from the centre of the sky, then came their night; and the
hours of her absence were spent in sleep.
So, at stated intervals, the moon sprang suddenly from the earth, shone
there, replacing the faint earth-light which, during her absence, had
guided Eva, and which still shone when she was not to be seen; then,
after her hours were over, she as suddenly descended; and her rising
and her setting were alike accompanied by the same weird music which
had heralded her first coming, though its notes were fainter than those
which had hailed the rising of the young new moon.
But every time that the moon returned it seemed to Eva that she grew
brighter and larger, and that she shed more light upon the earth. And
as the light grew brighter, pale white flowers began here and there
to bloom, flowers which drooped and closed their petals as soon as
the moon fell from the sky; flowers which, as Eva thought, murmured a
low song as she passed them, yet a song whose words she never could
distinguish. And at last she noticed that, as the silver crescent of
the moon broadened, the slight form of Aster seemed to grow and to
expand; so that he was no longer the tiny doll-like figure which she
had taken from the fountain’s crest, but more like a boy of four years
old.
Yet this change, although it was singular, was only a source of
pleasure to the child. It gave her a companion, not merely a plaything,
for until now she had looked upon Aster in that light,--something
which, though it could talk, walk, sleep, and eat, was only a new toy,
to be taken care of and prized as such. She never had looked upon Aster
otherwise.
At last, when the moon had reached her first quarter, and the two,
enjoying her pure light, sat on their mossy bed, Eva asked the boy the
same question she had asked him the day her first kiss had awakened him:
“Tell me who you are.”
“I am Aster.”
“I know that,” Eva said, laying her hand on the boy’s shoulder; “but
that is only your name.”
“I shall be as large as you are, soon,” Aster said, raising his
star-like eyes to the moon as he spoke. “When she is round, I shall be
as tall as you are, Eva.”
Eva laughed. “How do you know?”
“It will be; because it must be.”
“You are Aster,” Eva said, slowly, “and I know how you came to me; but
why did you come?”
“You will know then.”
“When?”
“When the moon is round.”
“Why not now?”
“THEY will not let you.”
And with this answer Eva was forced to be content. But every day they
would stand side by side, and every day Aster grew taller and taller;
and every day the moon grew broader and brighter.
At last she rose, a round, perfect orb, to her station in the sky; and
as Eva, awakened by the loud music which told of her coming, sat up to
see and wonder at the bright light she cast, Aster came quietly behind
her, and, laying his hands on her shoulders, said:
“Look at me, Eva. The day has come, and I am as tall as you are.”
Eva sprang to her feet. As she did so, Aster put his arm around her,
and she saw that there was now no difference in their height,--they
were exactly the same size. And, strange to say, his clothes had grown
with him, and their rich, soft velvet fitted him now as perfectly as it
had done when Eva first took him, small and helpless, from the crest of
the golden fountain.
“I can tell you now who I am,” the beautiful boy said, “for to-day
THEY cannot silence me; this one day when I can be my own self again.
You ought to know, Eva, without my telling you, and you would know, if
you were like me; but you are not as I am.”
“Why not?” Eva asked, in surprise.
“Because you are only a little earth-maiden.”
Eva laughed, “What is that?” She had wholly, as we know, forgotten the
past.
“I cannot tell you,” Aster said, slowly. “I only know what THEY have
told me about you.”
“And that?”
“I do not know. But you are not like me, Eva. We are very different.
Look at your dress, and then at mine.”
In truth, every here and there upon the rich velvet of Aster’s dress
were soils and stains, while not a spot discolored the pure white Eva
wore.
“Now do you see?” Aster asked. “You know that we are in Shadow-Land,
and it can only affect things which are like itself; it cannot harm you
or deceive you.”
“Do you belong here?”
“No,” Aster said, “I came from there,” pointing to the round full moon
above their heads. “I wish I was there again.”
“Why don’t you go back, then?”
“I can’t, unless you help me. THEY who sent me here say so.”
“Why did they send you here?”
“Because up there,” pointing to the moon, “I lost my flower, and
everything which is lost there falls into Shadow-Land, as everything
which is lost in Fairy-Land falls into the Enchanted River; and so
they sent me here to find it again, because a prince cannot live there
without his flower; and I cannot find it unless you help me. Now you
know who I am, Eva,--the moon-prince, Aster.”
“Then must I say Prince Aster?”
“No; to you I am only Aster. And I know that it will be hard for you to
find the flower, for I cannot help you, or tell you what it is like. I
know that the Green Frog has hidden it, and you are the only person who
can help me to find it, and then you must give it to me. THEY say we
shall have trouble.”
“But we will find it at last?”
“When my punishment for losing it is over. To-morrow we must leave this
place, for after this moon the moss will be gone.”
“You know where to go, then?”
“No; I can only follow you. I have no power here; you will have to take
care of me.”
And then Aster began to sing, and this was the song which he sung:
Till my flower bloom again,
We may seek, yet seek in vain.
Till ’tis plucked by Eva’s hand,
We must roam through Shadow-Land.
Only this does Aster know,
Through hard trials he must go;
Eva’s hand must guide him on
Till his flower again be won.
She must wander far and near,
Led by songs he may not hear;
Should she lose me from her hand,
Worse my fate in Shadow-Land.
Then Aster threw himself down on the soft moss at Eva’s feet. But when
she asked him where he had learned the words of his song, he could
not tell her. Just then a cloud came over the face of the moon, hiding
her from their sight; and as the darkness came over everything, only
leaving for a moment the pale earth-light, it seemed to Eva that there
were faces looking at her, peeping from behind every tree; and then a
light breeze sprang up, just moving the flowers, and from the bell of
one of them seemed to come these words, all in verse, for in Fairy-Land
and in Shadow-Land people seldom speak in plain prose as we do:
O’er this spot do THEY have power,
Not here groweth Aster’s flower.
Wander, Eva, wander on
Till thy hand the prize hath won.
Then the breeze died away, and the voice was silent; and Eva saw
that Aster was asleep, and, frightened at the faces which made grimaces
and mocked at her, more angrily, she thought, on account of the warning
the flower had sung, she touched him to awaken him; and as she did so
the cloud passed from the face of the moon, and as once more her pure,
clear light returned, the ugly, threatening faces vanished, and Aster
awoke. But when Eva tried to tell him of what she had seen and heard
during his short sleep, she could only say these words:
Moss shall harden into stone,
Faces mock you o’er the sand;
Leading Aster by the hand,
From this spot ye must be gone.
Then Aster laughed, because Eva declared that these were not the words
which the flower had spoken; yet every time that she tried to recollect
and repeat them, she could only say the same thing over. Then she began
to try and tell him about the faces, and when she began to speak of
them, suddenly the full moon sank from the sky, and all was dark; and
then a strange drowsiness came over the children, and Eva and Aster,
nestled in each other’s arms, lay down to sleep upon the soft, green
moss, knowing that with the next moonrise they must go forth in search
of Aster’s lost flower.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]