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  “Stars of Hope” by Yvory/Kiwi   (for the email address see the author's page)
Disclaimer:  All persons mentioned in this story are property of their respective owners. Earth: Final Conflict belongs to Tribune Entertainment Co., Lost Script Prod. Inc., Atlantis Films and VOX. Please don't publish this story without permission of the author.
 
Subject:  Some thoughts concerning the end of season 4
 

 

STARS OF HOPE

 

A figure sits before her computer. Still. Motionless. Silent. The Computer has long gone into stand-by mode. It's dark, no lights are lighting the scene. She doesn't feel like switching the light on. Music is playing. The songs she hears are up-to-date, but the texts of the songs seem to have only one meaning. Every one of them reminds her of this beloved science-fiction series of hers: Earth: Final Conflict. Only hours before, she got the news. No EFC anymore. Not really. Not with the favourite characters gone.

There she sits in the dark not knowing what to do next. For her a whole world has been destroyed. Eyes look unfocused into the air.

She enters her retreat, one world of many, built by her own thoughts. A world now dead and grey where once colours and noises were always present. The inhabitants lie broken on the ground, scattered like pottery. A big black stream flows through the land. The Styx, the ancient river of Greek mythology, the river the dead must cross to find their way to the Elysian Fields. She just stands there trying to see the other riverbank, The Other Side where They are now, the characters that were killed by the Producers. She picks up the wreaths that lie on a small table. One by one she throws them into the river as a tribute to those gone before.

Her head lowers. A single tear rolls down her cheek.

What would happen how? Is this the end of this brief period of time?

No.

She will not surrender that easily. She will not let Them take away the delight when she watched the show. She will watch it again and again. The joy she felt when reading or writing tales for the characters, will stay. She values the stories a great deal, which are so much closer to her heart than the series has ever been. The series is just the skeleton to hold what her friends and she cover it with. No. She will carry on with her quest. That she owes to the characters and the actors and actresses. After all They are the heart of every character. Without them the characters would have been nothing but shells without a soul. They played with all their hearts. They all deserve not to be forgotten.

She looks up at the sky. The dark clouds are weighed down by the rain they carry. Full of tears she is not able shed. Then a small light appears at the edge of her vision. She turns her head. Something falls out of the sky. There over the water a small spark dances on the waves. It comes nearer. The spark draws near, then it stands still before her on waist-height. Slowly she stretches out her hands to envelope the spark. It is warm and comforting.

She closes her hands around the gift. Suddenly the spark erupts in a wave of heat. Her palms burn with the heat, but it doesn't hurt. With a certain delight she recognizes the marks on her hands. Her eyes watch fascinated the lights that shine on her palms.

The sky is full of stars, the clouds have vanished. And those stars come nearer. And with the stars come shadows. The stars burn in their hands, too.

She slowly looks at those Others. They are like her. She is not alone.

How easy it is to loose your self and how easy it is to find a way out if you know that you are not alone.

Jean Paul once said “The Only Paradise You Can Not Be Expelled From Is One's Memory”. How true this is.

Never will she forget the time she was happy here in this world where everything was like she wanted it to be. The friends she made will not go away so easily. The contact will still be there, she hopes. Even though she has never seen their faces, never heard their voices. They are closer to her than some of her friends in her personal surroundings. They are friends she would never have known and would never have heard about without EFC. It is amazing how she can feel more at ease knowing they are out there.

In the shine of her palms the colours return to this world and faint noises can be heard. The fragments are whole again. She will never forget the characters she has come to like so much. They will live on here for as long as she writes and lives.

The shadows rise again to the sky. But those lights do not disappear from her sight. They will be always there. And they are not so far away as she thinks.

They will come back to visit this world every time they read her fictions. They are always near.

 

Those little stars of hope.

 

THE END

 

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