Disclaimer: All characters belong to Marvel Comics. They are being used for entertainment purposes only. No money is being made off their use. The story belongs to me, Magik, the author.
by Magik
We walk across the stars, Magik and I. We step into the fiery depths of super-novas and chase falling stars. Yet there is always that expression on her face. A look filled with pity, lingering with hate, and spiked slightly with pain. She is hard to read, my older self.
"They've already forgotten about me, haven't they?" I ask as we stop to rest at a star. I look up at her.
Magik brushes a lock of blond hair out of her cold blue eyes, dusts off her armor and looks at me. "They'll never forget you."
"Yes, they will. They have. You are the one who is remembered," I tell her and she turns toward me. I stare into her eyes and see a painful echo of my life.
"No, Illyana. I am the dream they would rather forget. You are like a shinning star in their memories. Your presence gives them hope. All I ever gave them were nightmares. Be still, little one, for in truth you may still live."
"I didn't mean to upset you, Magik."
"S'okay. Comeon, we'd better get moving," and with that she stands up, sheathes her sword and takes my hand.
I hear things in the night upon which we walk. Quiet, muffled sounds that sound so familiar. The stars move with the sounds. It sounds like hope and love.
"That sound is the breath of children, Illyana. Their wonder, their hope and joy, keeps the stars moving. Their breath makes the universe move," she answers my unspoken question. The blue eyes of my future self turn to gaze at the stars and she pauses for a minute, straining to hear the sound.
"You hear it, Magik? It sounds like music," I whisper and then wish I hadn't. For she bites her lip and a tear rolls down her cheek.
"I am too old and far too lost a soul to hear the breath of children, Illyana."
"How old?"
"As old as pain and war." Then Magik's face is lost in the blackness and we continue on.
"When will our journey be over?" I inquire for it has been a long time since I died. This I know. This scares me.
"Whenever the time is right. You don't seem to understand, girl. We are spirits, for us there is no time. We have forever. I have much to teach you about life before we reach hell. Much indeed," and with that she stops speaking and pulls me on behind her.
Forever, my mind repeats. Such a long time without rest. But I follow her because she is me. We are the same. Besides, I have nothing else to do. And as we walk along the stars I make sure to listen to the music that is the breath of children.
