Children of the Heavens

A young girl was running down a hallway. Her peals of laughter followed her down the hall. Her long golden hair flowed out behind her like the rays of the sun.
When she reached the end of the hall she stopped, the sun had finally come out. It shined on her hair and lit up her whole face. She looked up and felt the sunshine warm her cheeks. Long golden lashes framed eyes as blue as the sky above her.
She ran out onto the grass and fell upon it, laughing as she fell. She lay on her back, her white dress spread out behind her and her arms reaching for the sun.
She smiled.

…

“Father. Isn’t that Sirius? The dog star?” A pale boy with pure white hair that twinkled with the light and glory of the stars, pointed at the sky, his other home.
His father nodded.
“So then that’s Orion?” Father and son were lying on the beach, watching the stars and listening to the soft crashes of waves upon the beach.
The light of the stars, tales of wild adventures sailing through the wild dreamings and imaginings of a young boy reflected in the his dark eyes.
He grinned.

…

A telescope was pointed not at the planets but at the moon the simplest, most known object in the night sky. But for the girl behind the telescope, it was the most fascinating. It shone with a unearthly light. A light of sorrow and of grief but also of dreams and of whispers never to be heard.
One side of her mouth turned up in a half-smile and she looked into the telescope.
The wind and the sea crashed but nothing could disturb the girl from her silent reverie. Her hair rippled in the wind and flew in her face and for one second her eyes shone with, not the borrowed light of the moon, but of her own inner light. A silver light.
She smirked.