Peer Review by rainandsonder (United States of America)()

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πτήση

By: Anha


FREE WRITING

the bright-eyed goddess keeps her eyes upon Moon, preparing her misty chariot to traverse our millenium sky. the coven wishes her well on her journey, and she blesses each who bid her farewell, a brush of stardust on their foreheads from her kiss. her silver-skinned arm keeps safe its ward, a babe swaddled in circumstance and divinity. when he blooms, the coven will have withered. they will not live to see him die. but he will bless their daughters and granddaughters as his προστάτης has done.

    the bright-eyed goddess kisses his forehead too, and presses a rune with her gentle fingers onto the dreaming babe's skin. πτήση. he will never see it, for no surface will reflect his brilliance in a way he can truly see. those who try will blind themselves with their futility. but beings like herself were not born with vanity wrapped like a summer's breeze behind their eyes. pride, yes, is a common fallacy among her brothers, but it is never their beauty that they choose to croon about. she sighs, and the ocean sighs with her.


    this child is not her blood. but she sends a whisper through his mind and tell him she is σςπίτι.

    she leaves him lying in his nebulae creche, his nursery, until he shines. a galactic orphan, how unfortunate. he wakes, and names himself. altair. the goddess has not left his mind, though he remembers her not. he stands, and a cloak of night adorns him. he is already fully grown, for they do not age as we do. he commandeers a stellar ship, mast carved from solar flares, whispers into its sails, με υπακούει, σου δίνω σκοπό, and skims across the milky waves away from his infancy.

    the bright-eyed goddess returns to find his nebulae creche abandoned and dim. she worries not, children are meant to explore. once he tastes freedom, he will grow into himself. ολό. she worries not.

    a god of flashing eyes and burning purpose cross the sky in his chariot, ablaze. he waits for no one, and a skinny little thing clings to the sides of his robes. "πατέρα," she says, voice shrill as a harpy, "είμαστε αρκετά αργά για να σκοτώσουμε τους αστρονόμους;" 'father' smiles only for himself. "
είμαστε." the sun is never late, the kings say from their thrones. the astronomers return to the dust from whence they came.


Message to Readers

tried to write an epilogue of sorts for the witches piece, but it turned into something completely new. tell me what you think, and whether you'd like to see more piece like this.


Peer Review

i was absolutely delighted by how gorgeously written this piece is. i've always had a thing for space, and the way you captured its beauty here is part of what makes this piece so enticing.


the ending, i think, was the only place where i was confused; the thing about astronomers seemed to come out of nowhere. but like i said, it's up to you whether you want to clarify that or not. i think that even if you were to clarify it, some of the ambiguity would have to remain. as i said in one of my highlights, i think that some further elaboration about the runes would also add to the piece.


Reviewer Comments

this review was particularly hard for me to write, honestly, because there was so little criticism i had and so much praise, i felt like the praise would get repetitive. honestly, i could just highlight this whole piece; it's so masterfully written and woven with such beauty and care. i adore the way you carve out your characters, the way you reel us into this world of goddesses and stars. most of the criticism i did put here are just suggestions or minor tweaks; you could change nothing about this piece and it would still be a fantastic read. sorry if this was lacking in criticism; i love the way you tell stories and i love this piece!