The Chronicles of a Fallen Star

Paola’s eyes fluttered open, slowly adjusting to the dim light of the room. The gentle warmth of the morning sun slipped through the cracks of the shutters, casting soft, golden beams across the small space. She blinked groggily, trying to gather her thoughts and remember where she was. Right. It was the second day of the festival. She stretched her limbs beneath the thick blanket, feeling the familiar weight of Poca’s body pressed close to hers, her soft blue skin warm against the morning chill. A lazy smile tugged at Paola’s lips as she registered the feeling of her tail wrapped snugly around Poca’s hip, holding her close in the comfort of their shared bed.

The room smelled faintly of lavender and old parchment, a scent that lingered from the night before, when they had spent hours talking. Paola’s thoughts drifted back to the conversations they’d had—about the book she had bought, about Udanara’s history, about the Leviathan, and then, of course, Yasmin’s unexpected confession. She had asked to be part of Paola’s harem. A harem. Paola still wasn’t sure how she felt about that, or if what she had with Ayla and Poca could even be called a harem. It wasn’t something she’d ever imagined for herself, but somehow, the idea didn’t feel entirely wrong.

Her golden-flecked brown eyes scanned the room, and she spotted Yasmin slumped over the one small table, her head resting on her arms. Yasmin’s fiery red hair fell messily around her face, and her wings fluttered briefly in her sleep. It looked like she hadn’t bothered to leave after their long talk—just put her head down and drifted off right where she was. Paola had half-expected Yasmin to get her own room, but no, she had stayed. There was something strangely endearing about that.

Paola shifted slightly, pulling herself closer to Poca, the warm blanket rustling softly as she nestled against the curve of Poca’s body. Her blue skin was soft and cool under the morning air, but beneath that, Paola could feel the heat of her body, her rhythmic breathing a comforting presence. Poca’s arms were loosely draped around Paola’s waist, and her face, framed by that familiar mop of dark hair, was peaceful in her sleep. Her stitched features—so unique and warm to Paola now—looked calm, serene, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips even in slumber.

For a few quiet moments, Paola let herself enjoy the comfort of the morning, the gentle rise and fall of Poca’s chest, the weight of the blankets cocooning them in warmth. The world outside felt distant, almost like it didn’t exist at all. She shifted again, burying her face into the crook of Poca’s neck, her tail tightening just a little, securing the embrace. Poca stirred beside her, her fingers lazily brushing against Paola’s back as she began to wake.

“Mmm… bonjour, mon amour,” Poca mumbled, her voice still thick with sleep. Her eyes blinked open, groggy but soft as she turned her head slightly to look at Paola.

Paola smiled, her own voice low and hushed as she pressed a soft kiss against Poca’s shoulder. “Morning… did you sleep well?”

Poca hummed in response, her fingers now tracing idle patterns on Paola’s back. “Oui, though I am surprised zat Yasmin stayed. I thought she might leave for ‘er own room, non?”

Paola chuckled quietly, casting a glance toward Yasmin, who was still fast asleep, her wings twitching slightly in her dreams. “Yeah… me too. Guess she got comfortable.”

The two of them lay there for a moment longer, neither in any rush to leave the comfort of their bed. The early morning light began to warm the room, and Paola could hear the faint stirrings of the city outside, as Valarian began to wake to the second day of the festival. The air felt different today—charged, as if the city itself was holding its breath, waiting for something grand to unfold.

Poca yawned softly, stretching her legs under the blanket and letting out a contented sigh. “Zis city… it is so alive. Yesterday was overwhelming, but today feels... different.”

Paola nodded in agreement, her tail slowly uncurling from Poca’s hip as she sat up slightly, her hair falling into her face. “Yeah. I can feel it too. I wonder what today will bring.”

Before Poca could respond, there was a sudden, soft grumble from the other side of the room. Paola turned her head just in time to see Yasmin stir from her sleep, her wings giving an irritated flutter as she groggily lifted her head from her arms.

“Ugh… not fair…” Yasmin mumbled, her voice still thick with sleep. “I shouldn’t have to clean the outhouses for a week…”

Paola blinked, exchanging a confused glance with Poca. Yasmin’s fiery red hair was a mess, sticking out at odd angles, and her amber eyes were still half-lidded as she blinked blearily at the room. It took her a moment to register that both Paola and Poca were staring at her.

Yasmin froze, her eyes widening slightly. “Wait… did I say that out loud?”

Paola couldn’t hold back the soft laugh that bubbled up in her chest. “Yes. Yes, you did.”

Yasmin blinked again, clearly still not fully awake, but her face quickly morphed into an expression of feigned nonchalance. She stretched her arms above her head, giving her wings another lazy flutter before shrugging casually. “Well, it wouldn’t be fair, right? I mean, having to clean outhouses? That’s just… cruel and unusual punishment.”

Poca raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a grin. “Is zat something you often dream about, Yasmin?”

Yasmin, ever the quick thinker, smirked and waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, you know, just the usual. In my dream, I was framed for something ridiculous and had to clean the outhouses for a week. Obviously, that would be a grave injustice. I’m too important for such menial tasks.” She gave them both a wink, clearly trying to play it off cool.

Paola shook her head, grinning. “Right, of course. That would be a heinous crime against you.”

Yasmin let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Exactly! Glad you understand.” She stood up and stretched again, her wings flaring out briefly before settling behind her. “Now, what’s the plan for today? We’ve got a festival to enjoy, right?”

Paola chuckled, watching as Yasmin seemed to effortlessly slip back into her usual confident, fiery self. She truly was something else.

As the three of them started to gather their things and prepare for the day, Paola couldn’t help but notice how different Valarian felt compared to the day before. Even before stepping outside, she could sense it—almost as if overnight, the city had transformed.

When they finally emerged from the inn and stepped into the streets, it was like walking into a completely different world. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meats, spices, and fresh bread, and the sounds of music and laughter filled the air, louder and more vibrant than the day before. Colorful banners and streamers fluttered from every rooftop, and the streets were packed with people—merchants, performers, artists, and festival-goers all mingling together in a chaotic, joyful harmony.

The atmosphere was electric. Yesterday, the focus had been on trade and commerce, but today? Today was a celebration of life, culture, and community. Musicians played lively tunes on every corner, their instruments adding a melodic undercurrent to the constant hum of conversation. Dancers twirled through the streets, their brightly colored costumes flowing behind them like waves of color. Everywhere Paola looked, there was art—paintings, sculptures, even performances—on display for everyone to admire.

It was overwhelming, but in a way that made Paola’s heart race with excitement rather than anxiety. Valarian had come alive in a way that was impossible to ignore.

Yasmin, always eager to dive into the action, immediately pointed toward a group of dancers in the center of the square. “Look at that! We have to check that out. Come on!”

Without waiting for a response, Yasmin grabbed Paola’s hand and pulled her toward the crowd, her wings fluttering excitedly behind her. Poca followed closely behind, her stitched smile widening as she took in the lively scene around them.

As they moved through the crowd, Paola couldn’t help but marvel at how seamlessly the city had transformed. Yesterday had been focused on wealth, power, and trade, with nobles and merchants subtly maneuvering for control. But today, all of that had faded into the background. Today was about life—about celebrating the creativity and culture that made Udanara so unique.

They passed a group of musicians playing a lively, upbeat tune on stringed instruments, their melodies weaving through the air like magic. Paola’s ears twitched as she caught snippets of conversation around her—people laughing, sharing stories, and complimenting the art and performances on display.

She couldn’t help but smile, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. This… this was what the festival was all about.

Yasmin, who had finally stopped dragging Paola through the crowd, turned to her with a grin. “See? Isn’t this amazing? I mean, yesterday was fun, but today? Today is where the real magic happens.”

Paola nodded, her golden-flecked eyes shining with excitement. “Yeah. It’s incredible.”

Poca stepped up beside them, her pale blue skin glowing softly in the warm light of the morning sun. “I ‘ave to admit… zis is even more beautiful zan I imagined. It feels like ze entire city is alive.”

Yasmin grinned, her wings giving a slight flutter as she watched the festivities unfold before them. “Told you,” she said with a wink, the corners of her lips curling in that familiar mischievous way. “Valarian knows how to throw a party.”

Poca, ever gentle, stepped up beside Paola, her soft blue skin almost glowing in the vibrant light of the festival. She tilted her head, her green and purple eyes twinkling as she observed the lively crowd. “Zis year feels even more alive zan last year. I don’t remember ze city being zis vibrant. Maybe it’s just me, but… everything feels different.”

Yasmin shrugged, glancing over at Poca. “Could be. I haven’t been here in a couple of years, so maybe it’s changed. Or maybe it’s just that the festival gets better every time.”

Paola, standing between them, couldn’t help but feel a bit of their energy seep into her. Both Poca and Yasmin had a way of drawing her out of her usual reserved nature, their extroverted personalities balancing the more cautious side of her. Though Yasmin was more explosive—bold in her actions and words—Poca had a quieter confidence, a warmth that Paola found comforting. Together, they were a pair of opposites, but somehow, they fit perfectly into Paola’s world.

As they walked further into the heart of the festival, the three of them were surrounded by the sights and sounds of the day. The streets of Valarian had transformed overnight, and now they were alive with vibrant color and music. The air was thick with the scent of sweet pastries and spiced meats cooking over open flames, and artisans displayed their crafts on every corner, from intricate wood carvings to delicate tapestries that fluttered in the breeze.

The group made their way through the crowd, drawn to the various art displays scattered throughout the streets. Yasmin, her energy as always a bit uncontainable, darted from one vendor to the next, her amber eyes lighting up as she admired the craftsmanship.

“Look at this one!” Yasmin called out, holding up a small sculpture made of dark stone. It was an intricately carved figure of a woman, her wings outstretched, much like Yasmin’s own. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Paola nodded, smiling softly. “It’s lovely. It reminds me of you.”

Yasmin shot her a playful smirk. “Oh, don’t flatter me too much. I’ll get a big head.”

Poca, always the gentle one, reached out to lightly brush her hand against Paola’s arm. “Zis is really special. You ‘ave a good eye for zese zings, Yasmin.”

Yasmin grinned, clearly pleased with herself as she set the sculpture back down and moved on to the next booth, where an older woman was displaying beautifully painted vases. As Yasmin enthusiastically chatted with the artist about her work, Paola found herself smiling more than usual. Despite Yasmin’s outward brashness, there was a softer, curious side to her, especially when it came to art. It was as if she could lose herself in the beauty of the world around her, and that energy was infectious.

“Zis year is special,” Poca said softly, turning to Paola with a warm smile. “I feel it. And I feel lucky to be ‘ere with you.”

Paola’s heart warmed at the sincerity in Poca’s words. She gave a soft nod, appreciating the peace that Poca always seemed to bring with her. “I’m glad you’re here too,” she replied, her voice quiet but genuine.

They continued to explore, each of them drawn to different aspects of the festival. Yasmin, true to her nature, couldn’t resist trying out some of the more eccentric snacks from street vendors. She practically bounced over to a stall selling brightly colored skewers of fruit and candied nuts, her eyes wide with excitement.

“Paola! You’ve got to try this!” Yasmin exclaimed, holding out a skewer of sticky, glistening fruit. “It’s like… sweet and sour at the same time!”

Paola hesitated for a moment, but Yasmin’s enthusiasm was hard to resist. She took a small bite, her eyes widening in surprise. “Wow, that’s… actually really good.”

“Told you!” Yasmin grinned, popping a piece of fruit into her own mouth with a satisfied look.

Poca laughed softly beside her, picking up her own skewer and taking a delicate bite. “It’s a little too sweet for me,” she admitted, but her smile didn’t falter.

They spent the rest of the afternoon wandering through the festival, stopping to admire street performers, listening to musicians play lively tunes, and sampling small snacks from various vendors. Yasmin’s bold energy kept things light and fun, while Poca’s gentle nature added a sense of calm to their exploration. Paola found herself relaxing more and more, enjoying the company of her two friends—and perhaps more than friends, if she was truly honest with herself.

As the day turned to evening, the streets of Valarian took on a different kind of magic. Lanterns were lit, casting a warm, golden glow over the city. The music slowed, becoming more intimate and reflective, as people began to gather for the quieter moments of the festival. The air was cooler now, and Paola pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders as they made their way back toward their inn.

Yasmin, ever the one to seize an opportunity, spotted a small shop just off the main road, its sign advertising fine wines and spirits. She turned to Paola and Poca with a mischievous grin. “How about we end the night with something special? My treat.”

Paola raised an eyebrow, but before she could protest, Poca smiled warmly and nodded. “Zat sounds lovely.”

Inside the shop, they spent a good amount of time perusing the shelves, debating over which bottle to choose. Eventually, Yasmin settled on a rich, dark bottle of wine infused with local berries, and they left the shop with their prize in hand.

Back at the inn, the three of them gathered in the small room, sitting on the bed as they passed the bottle around, pouring glasses and sharing stories from the day. Yasmin, ever playful, couldn’t help but tease Paola as she recounted their adventures at the festival.

“You were so quiet the whole time, Paola,” Yasmin said with a grin, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I almost thought you were going to sneak away and leave us to our chaos.”

Paola laughed softly, shaking her head. “No, I was just… taking it all in.”

Poca, sitting beside Paola, leaned her head gently against her shoulder. “You always know ‘ow to balance ze madness, Paola. Zat’s why we love you.”

Paola blushed slightly at the compliment, but Yasmin quickly jumped in with a wink. “Exactly. You keep us grounded.”

As the night wore on and the bottle of wine slowly emptied, Paola found herself growing more relaxed, the warmth of the alcohol settling into her bones. Yasmin, sitting on the other side of her, had grown quieter as well, her playful energy now softened into something more thoughtful.

There was a lull in the conversation, and Paola turned her head to find Yasmin watching her, a soft, almost shy smile on her lips. “You know, Paola,” Yasmin said quietly, her voice lower than usual, “I’ve been thinking a lot about what I said last night.”

Paola’s heart skipped a beat, the memory of Yasmin’s confession still fresh in her mind. “About… the harem?”

Yasmin nodded, her amber eyes softening as they locked with Paola’s. "Yeah. I meant it. I meant all of it."

Paola was about to respond, her mind still racing through the whirlwind of thoughts that had been circling since last night, when Yasmin leaned in—suddenly but gently. Paola’s breath hitched as Yasmin’s lips brushed against hers, soft and unexpected. It wasn’t bold or fiery like she had always imagined a kiss from Yasmin would be. Instead, it was careful, almost hesitant, and it caught Paola completely off guard.

For a moment, everything froze. The world outside the room seemed to fall away, leaving only the quiet sound of their breathing and the slight warmth where Yasmin’s lips had touched hers. Paola blinked, her mind scrambling to process what had just happened. Did Yasmin just... kiss her?

Her heart raced, and a flood of thoughts rushed in all at once. Ayla. Paola’s mind immediately went to Ayla, the tension between them, the unresolved feelings still hanging in the air. Then there was Poca, sitting right beside her. Paola could feel Poca’s presence, her warmth, and she couldn’t help but glance in her direction, unsure of what Poca might think.

But Poca didn’t seem upset. She sat quietly, watching with her soft, knowing smile. That’s how Poca was—always gentle, always understanding. There was no judgment in her eyes, just the same warmth that had always been there.

Paola felt a knot forming in her chest, her thoughts twisting in confusion. Should she have pulled away? What about Ayla? What about the tangled mess of feelings she was already struggling with? Yasmin was bold and unpredictable, but this? This wasn’t something Paola had expected, especially not like this.

Yasmin pulled back, her face flushed, looking uncharacteristically uncertain. "I… I didn’t mean to surprise you," she mumbled, her usual confidence wavering.

Paola sat there, staring at Yasmin in disbelief. She hadn’t even fully processed what had just happened, and now Yasmin was looking at her, waiting for a reaction. For a few long, awkward seconds, Paola couldn’t say anything. Her mind was too busy bouncing between thoughts of Ayla, Poca, and now Yasmin’s soft, tentative kiss.

Then, something shifted inside her.

Fuck it.

That was the thought that finally pushed through the chaos in her mind. Fuck it.

Without thinking, Paola leaned forward, her heart racing as she grabbed the front of Yasmin’s shirt and pulled her in for another kiss—this time, deeper, more deliberate. There was a hesitation, a moment of disbelief in herself, but then Paola’s lips pressed against Yasmin’s with a newfound boldness. It wasn’t like the first kiss—this one wasn’t tentative. It was real, filled with all the uncertainty, the confusion, and the sheer desire to stop thinking, just for a moment.

Yasmin stiffened in surprise for a split second before she melted into the kiss, her hands sliding up to cup Paola’s face, pulling her even closer. The awkwardness melted away, replaced by something that felt strangely freeing.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathing a little heavier, their faces flushed. Paola blinked, staring at Yasmin, her mind still reeling from the fact that she had just—without thinking—kissed her back. Hard. And it felt… good.

Poca, sitting quietly beside them, gave a soft chuckle, her hand gently resting on Paola’s back. “Well, zat escalated quickly.”

Paola’s face burned, the reality of what she’d just done catching up with her all at once. She glanced between Yasmin and Poca, feeling a sudden rush of embarrassment. “I… I didn’t—” Paola stammered, unsure of how to explain herself.

But Yasmin, her grin slowly returning, shrugged it off with that easygoing confidence. “Hey, I’m not complaining.”

Paola laughed, a little too breathless, the tension in her chest finally easing as she let herself relax. There was no use trying to make sense of everything right now—she didn’t have the answers. All she knew was that in that moment, it felt good.

Paola leaned back after the kiss, still feeling the warmth of Yasmin’s lips lingering on hers. She glanced over at Poca, who was smiling gently, and then back at Yasmin, who was now sporting her usual confident grin, though there was a softness behind her eyes that Paola hadn’t noticed before. The reality of the situation, though, was starting to sink in. She had just kissed Yasmin—and it hadn’t been a fluke or a mistake. It was real, and now she had to figure out how to navigate this new territory.

"Okay," Paola said, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly, her tail flicking with nervous energy. "I need to ask… How does this even work? I mean, I’m feeling like I’m… taking on a lot here."

Yasmin laughed, her amber eyes twinkling mischievously. "What do you mean? You’ve already got two amazing girlfriends. Clearly, you can handle it."

Paola snorted, shaking her head. "That’s exactly what I’m talking about! How did this even happen? I mean, I had three boyfriends my whole life… and now I’ve got three girlfriends at one time? What kind of weird cosmic joke is this?"

Poca chuckled softly beside her, her hand gently resting on Paola’s back. “Mon amour, zis is not a joke. You are simply... irresistible, non?”

Paola rolled her eyes playfully. "Yeah, okay, but seriously… how? How are these two incredibly beautiful women falling for me?" She gestured toward Yasmin and Poca, her voice half teasing, half genuinely baffled. "I’m just a girl from Albuquerque! There’s no way I should be able to handle… well, this."

Yasmin leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest with a smirk. "You’re more than just a girl from Albuquerque, Paola. You’re funny, brave, and you care so much about the people around you. That’s what’s so damn attractive."

Paola blinked, a little taken aback by Yasmin’s sincerity. "I… I guess? But I still feel like I’m in way over my head here. You’re both so… confident, and I’m over here trying to figure out what the hell is happening."

Poca squeezed her hand, her voice soft and reassuring. "It’s okay to feel zat way, Paola. No one is asking you to ‘ave it all figured out. We’re figuring it out together, non?"

Yasmin nodded in agreement. "Yeah. We’re all just winging it. And honestly, that’s the fun part." She paused, her grin widening. "Besides, you’re doing a pretty good job so far. I mean, you just kissed me, so you’ve already leveled up."

Paola laughed, shaking her head as the tension eased a little. "Okay, fine, I’ll admit that wasn’t terrible. But I still don’t understand why you guys are so into me."

"Because you’re you," Yasmin said simply, her voice a little softer this time. "And that’s enough."

Paola’s heart warmed at Yasmin’s words, and for a moment, she let herself relax into the idea. Maybe she didn’t have to understand it completely. Maybe it was enough that they cared about each other, and they would figure out the rest as they went along.

The conversation shifted to lighter topics, with Yasmin throwing in her usual teasing remarks and Poca adding her gentle humor to the mix. The three of them laughed and talked, the atmosphere comfortable and playful as they shared more stories from the festival, including the art and the snacks they had enjoyed earlier in the day.

As the night wore on, Paola noticed Yasmin starting to fidget again. The Magist stood up, stretching with an exaggerated yawn before making her way over to the table, where she had slept the night before.

Paola watched her for a moment, then glanced at Poca, who raised an eyebrow in silent understanding. After a brief hesitation, Paola spoke up, her voice a little uncertain but warm. "Hey, Yasmin?"

Yasmin turned, tilting her head curiously. "Yeah?"

Paola felt a small blush creeping up her neck, but she pushed through the awkwardness. "You don’t have to sleep at the table again, you know. If you want, there’s… there’s room here, in the bed. With us."

Yasmin blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting the offer. Her usual confident smirk faltered for just a second, replaced by something softer—almost vulnerable. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice quieter than usual.

Paola nodded, feeling a little shy but genuine. "Yeah. I mean… if you want to. I’m just saying, there’s space."

Yasmin hesitated for only a moment before her grin returned, though this time it was less playful and more appreciative. "Thanks," she said, walking over to the bed and sliding in next to Paola, settling comfortably under the blankets.

Paola lay there, sandwiched between Yasmin and Poca, feeling a strange but welcome sense of warmth and contentment. She had no idea how she was going to handle this new dynamic, but for the first time, she felt like maybe she didn’t have to figure it all out right away.

For now, it was enough to be surrounded by people who cared about her.