Twenty-Four Star Canvas
Lilith floated in the void, like a leaf on black water.
A voice brushed her ear, muffled, smudged like fog on glass. The Little White Dragon couldn’t catch a single word.
Lilith frowned, straining to catch that near-far murmur, trying to tease meaning from its shifting waves.
…Open…
It was a girl’s voice, familiar as her own breath, almost her own.
…Open…
The words sharpened, the tone matched the Little White Dragon exactly, a line Lilith had said a hundred times.
“Cosmic Superhero, open your eyes, I’m—ah!”
Her line cut off when the Little White Dragon shot up, headbutting her forehead.
Both yelped, clutching their reddening brows, rolling on the ground like bruised apples.
“Why’d you sit up all of a sudden!”
“How was I supposed to know you were that close! Not standard—your stance is totally off!”
Lilith glared through tear-bright eyes, palm on her throbbing brow, groaning as she rolled until the heat ebbed, then stood.
“So, who are you?”
She looked down at the girl, a mirror-twin—same face, same build, same horns and tail.
Only the eyes weren’t Lilith’s deep blue; they blazed sun-gold.
“Me? Heh, good question.” She stood, proudly puffing her equally flat chest—honestly, even flatter; poor thing.
Proud as Abaddon, she lifted her little chin like a quacking duck.
“I’m the most mysterious thing in this world. You’ve seen me more than once. But this is your first time seeing my real face.”
“Quit riddling. Who are you, really?”
Lilith shook her right hand. The Ancient Ark sigil on it pulsed pink, like petal light.
“Ahem.” She startled, coughed twice, and muttered, “Alright, alright. I’ll just say it. I’m Star Canvas, also your mom.”
“Huh?”
Lilith froze. A feather-light sentence stuffed her head with bricks.
Her brain ran hot, like a laptop about to fry.
“Wait—hold on—what do you mean, mom?”
“Literal mom. This body was born from me.”
“Mom said you had to clean up the mess those ancients left, so you were made human first.”
“Once you dealt with the Taint, you naturally became a White Dragon like me.”
Star Canvas said it like it was the weather.
Lilith felt her head might pop, yet she snagged another key thread.
“Who’s your mom?”
“Which mom?”
“You have how many moms?”
“Two.”
“Then name both.”
“Oh, oh.” Star Canvas clapped, silly and bright. For the first time, Lilith understood Nidhogg.
Was this how she looked in Nidhogg’s eyes—an utter fool?
She worried for her own image, vowing not to act like this one—all silly fluff.
“My moms are Icarus and the Nameless One. I’m your nana—uh, grandma?”
Star Canvas hesitated, weighing words. But Lilith was already stunned.
The Little White Dragon stood there, blank, then pointed at herself.
“Are you saying I’m Lady Icarus’s granddaughter?”
“Mm-hmm, that’s not wrong.” Star Canvas nodded. “Gods don’t fuss with human ranks, but by human kinship, that’s it.”
“Ha! Impossible. Absolutely impossible!”
Relief cracked into laughter.
She couldn’t be born of Icarus and the Grim Reaper.
This lookalike couldn’t be Star Canvas.
Astrologers have chased her true face for years; you don’t just bump into it.
It’s all fake—must be Zuowang Dao’s trick.
“You alright?” Star Canvas stepped close, worry soft in her voice, and pressed a small hand to Lilith’s forehead.
“No fever. So why start laughing?”
“Nothing.” Lilith slid the little hand away, cool as stone.
She was sure the little thing was spinning tales. She’d see how far it went.
If she’s a god, I’ll eat that lunch stew.
“Weren’t I in the middle of a Druid initiation rite? How am I seeing you?”
“Yeah. By rights, you should be seeing the Goddess of Nature.”
“But last time, Mom Nameless One hijacked your link with Mom Icarus and left a little mark.”
“I traced that mark and hijacked your link with the Goddess of Nature too.”
Star Canvas said it dead serious. A ripple of wrongness rose in Lilith’s chest; she pressed it down and asked on.
“So how do I open the Nature Eye? I need to learn the Mali Dance.”
“If I can’t dance at the Coining Festival, I’m in trouble.”
“Don’t worry.” Star Canvas shook her head, soothing.
“The Nature Eye is basically the power the Goddess of Nature gained by trading with the God of Life.”
“She grants her followers a glimpse of life’s truth.”
“Last time she came here to sleep, she gave me a slice of it.”
“So I can grant it to you all the same. Here, come a bit closer.”
The Little White Dragon leaned in. The golden-eyed twin raised a finger and tapped her brow.
Cool tingles spread under her brow, mint-sweet and electric, like peppermint on the tongue.
“That’s it?” The Little White Dragon blinked her deep-blue eyes. “I don’t feel any different.”
“Of course. There’s only one living thing here—you.”
Lilith was sure now—the one across wasn’t human.
Yet one detail hooked her harder than divine bloodlines.
“You slept with the Goddess of Nature?”
