The Flower and the Star

"Past Cassiopeia..." Floriel zipped through the constellation. "Left at Andromeda, then keep flying straight— aha!" The Milky Way, a swirling speck growing larger as Floriel flapped her wings with a new sense of urgency. "ASTERIEL!" Floriel had searched all of Heaven, Asteriel's room, the roof of the armoury… Asteriel was nowhere to be found.

There was only one place left to check.

Floriel ducked into the Milky Way. "Keep flying till you find Alpha Centauri…" she muttered, remembering Asteriel's directions from 500 years ago, when she'd taken her to see the Earth for the very first time. She sped past Alpha Centauri, and there was the Sun, with its handful of orbiting specks. Floriel beelined to the third-closest speck, and there was Asteriel, hovering over the blue-green planet, just like they'd done five centuries ago.

"There you are!"

Asteriel spun around, her long, red hair floating behind her.

"You found me."

"I looked everywhere…" She studied Asteriel's face, her hardened look of determination, anger simmering just beneath. "You're running away, aren't you?"

"They're going to destroy it all, Floriel."

Floriel drifted beside her. "I heard."

"I have to stop them."

Floriel gawked at her. Her jaw was set, golden eyes flickering dangerously. "No— Asteriel— it's the Great Plan. We can't intervene."

"I have to!" Asteriel cried, an urgency in her voice that Floriel had never heard before. "All those humans down there have lives! And the things they've created… Floriel, it's amazing! Bright and colourful and messy… It's not monotonous like Heaven, shift after meaningless shift. Down there, every day is different!"

"You've been down there, haven't you?" Floriel said, voice small.

Asteriel eyes widened with guilt, then she nodded once. "I have."

An ache spread through Floriel's chest. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you getting into trouble!" Asteriel cried. "And I knew you'd disapprove."

"I disapprove because I don't want you getting into trouble!"

Asteriel tore her gaze away, fixing it on the Earth, spinning slowly.

"Asteriel, you have to come home—"

"Heaven is not my home."

Something inside Floriel shattered. "What about me?"

Asteriel snapped to her, face ashen as she pushed forward. "Help me," she whispered, her face barely an inch from Floriel's. "Help me stop Heaven from destroying the Earth."

Floriel shook her head, drifting backwards. "No. Asteriel—"

"And once we've saved the planet, we can stay there. Amongst the humans. We can have lives!"

Floriel's heart pounded in her ears. She glanced around frantically, praying that nobody had overhead Asteriel's blasphemy—

"We'll never have to hide again, Floriel!" Asteriel pushed on. "No more secret meetings on the roof of the armoury, sneaking out the silver gates to fly amongst the stars, breaking into the conservatory to show me your newest creations. Down there, we can just… be." Asteriel's eyes searched hers. "Don't you want that too?"

There was a strange feeling in Floriel's chest, a sort of pull, and for a moment, she lost herself in the brightness of Asteriel's eyes, lost herself in the idea of spending all their time together without fear of being caught…

She wrenched her gaze from Asteriel's, looking back the way she came. They would be fugitives. If they did this, they could never go back…

Back to those blank silver walls, the monotonous routine of shift after shift—

No, Floriel kicked herself inwardly, not monotonous. Safe.

"Look," Asteriel began, voice dripping with desperation. "Spend one Earth day with me. Down there. Just one. And by the end of it, if you still agree with the Great Plan, that it should all be destroyed, then… we'll come back to Heaven and let it happen."

Floriel eyed her dubiously. "'We'?"

Asteriel nodded firmly. "Yes. We. I'll take all the blame, and face whatever punishment I have to, and then we can go back to normal, sneaking around and everything. But…" She drifted forward again, her addictive golden gaze fixed upon Floriel. "If you change your mind, if you start to see them the way I do, then we can save them. Together." She inched even closer. "And save ourselves in the process."

Her warm breath on Floriel's face; the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

"The final decision is yours," Astella whispered. Her eyes brimmed with hope. "What do you say?"

Floriel swallowed the lump of regret already forming in her throat. "One Earth day?"

"One Earth day."

Going against every angelic fibre in her being, she whispered, "Alright."

Asteriel's entire form emitted a golden glow as she beamed and stretched out her wings. "I promise, you won't regret this."

Floriel's chest tightened with worry, and yet, a strange buzz shot through her as they zipped towards the Earth.

They landed at the end of a narrow alleyway. Floriel marvelled at the state of it. In Heaven, nothing was out of place, not a silver brick or a speck of dust. But here, it was patchwork— mismatched, uneven— cracks in the cement pavement, moss growing between slabs of concrete, assorted dirt littering the ground. Floriel had never seen so much colour all at once.

Asteriel glanced over her shoulder, grinning at the look on Floriel's face. "It gets better. Follow me. And, um, tuck away your wings."

They snaked out of the alleyway, emerging in a bustling square lined with shopfronts and massive billboards flashing different faces and colours and words every few seconds; it made Floriel dizzy.

"I thought you said it gets better."

"This is better!"

Floriel stared at her in alarm. "This is chaos!"

Asteriel's grin only grew. "This is life. Welcome to Earth. More specifically, Times Square, New York. New Year's Eve, by the looks of this crowd."

"New Year's Eve?"

"It's a way humans have divided time."

Floriel frowned.

"We have shifts, right, where we're either working or not. But humans have days—"

"Because of the Sun."

Asteriel raised her eyebrows. "Very good, Flower Angel." Floriel rolled her eyes. "The humans have grouped their days into years. At the end of a year, they have a massive party to celebrate the coming of the next year."

"But— why? Isn't the next year just… more days?"

Asteriel nodded. "Technically, yes. But they don't see it like that. For them, it's a new beginning, and that's exciting."

Floriel swept her gaze across the Square. There were humans everywhere. There must have been at least hundreds of them just… standing around.

"What are they all waiting for?"

Asteriel shrugged. "The celebration, I guess. I've heard that Times Square is a good place to experience New Year's. We'll come back at the end of the day. Let's get breakfast."

"We don’t eat, Asteriel."

"When in Rome."

"What?"

"It's something humans say. About blending in. Oh, speaking of," she said over her shoulder, "I go by Astella here."

Floriel would have stopped in her tracks if Asteriel— Astella— wasn't already disappearing amongst the crowd.

Astella led them through packed streets to a turquoise storefront, Pavé printed in light purple over the doorway. A bell dinged overhead, announcing their arrival, and Floriel marvelled at the rustic brick archway, the floor of wooden planks, the dim yellow lighting, the potted plants hanging from the ceiling. She ran a finger across a jagged red brick, tracing the outline of its crumbled beige corner, and wondered why it hadn't been patched up, and then wondered why she still found it so enchanting.

"What're these ones, Flower Angel?" Astella asked, sitting at a table for two and glancing at the vase propped in the middle, yellow and orange flowers clustered within.

"Chrysanthemums," Floriel replied immediately, remembering crafting them for the first time in Heaven's conservatory.

"Chrysanthemums symbolise transformation," said a woman in purple and green, standing by their table with a notebook in hand. "New beginnings."

Astella smiled knowingly. "How fitting."

Floriel gazed up at the woman. "The flowers have meanings?"

The woman nodded. "Course they do! We use them to communicate, sometimes, when words are hard. Now, are you ready to order?"

Astella said something to the woman; Floriel wasn't listening. The humans had given her flowers meanings. Something warmed in her chest.

She was shaken from her stupor when the woman placed a plate before her, a crumply brown thing sat in the middle.

"Pain au chocolat," she said. "Let me know if you need anything else."

Astella smiled. "Thank you."

"What is this?" Floriel asked once the woman was out of earshot.

"Food," Astella replied simply, then picked up her pain au chotolat and took a bite. Floriel watched her, incredulous.

"Are you sure about this, Asteriel—?"

"Astella—"

"Astella. This isn't… for us."

"It's fine," Astella said, her mouth full. "It's not going to poison you. Just try it."

Floriel shook her head. "I don't just mean the food. All of it. Pleasures and desires and feelings and dreams. It's all for them," she gestured towards the woman in green and purple, now bustling behind the counter, "not us."

All that was left of Astella's pain au chocolat was crumbs. She dusted her fingers over her plate, waiting till she'd swallowed to reply. "Why can't it be for us too?"

"We're angels," Floriel said, voice hushed. "Soldiers of God."

"Says who?"

"Says God!"

"Floriel, you were created to make flowers for Earth. I was created to make the stars they see when they look up at night. How does that possibly make us soldiers?"

"But— still, we're angels," Floriel spluttered. "We created all those things for humans, for them to feel and dream. Not for us."

"If angels don't have feelings, why did you follow me here?"

Floriel froze.

Astella gazed expectantly at her. "Why is it that every time we meet, it has to be in secret? What are we hiding, Floriel?"

Floriel stared at her, wordless.

"Look." Astella leaned her arms on the table. "I go by Astella here, because here, I'm not 'of God'. I can just be… me. Astella. It's really freeing."

Silence as Floriel stared down at the pain au chocolat on her plate. It had deflated slightly.

"You can try too, if you want. Dropping the '-iel'. You know, the word humans have for plants is flora—"

Floriel's gaze snapped up, and it must have been harsh because Astella went silent, then glanced down at Floriel's plate.

"Eat your pastry, Floriel," she said quietly. "It's getting cold."

With a shaking hand, Floriel picked up the flaky pastry, brought it to her mouth as Astella had done, then took a tiny bite—

—and immediately stifled a gasp.

"See?" Astella leaned forward. "It's good, right?"

Good didn't even begin to describe it. The sweetness, the texture, the warmth of the molten centre… it was making Floriel's head fuzzy. She devoured the rest of the pastry within seconds, Astella laughing into her hands on the other side of the chrysanthemums.

The overhead bell dinged again when they left, the sun high in the sky.

"Half a day to go," Astella said.

Floriel clutched the brown paper bag containing two more pains au chocolat to her chest. Half a day already? Earth days were terribly short.

"What do you want to do next?"

"You're the expert."

"Good point. Actually, I have an idea."

They crossed a few streets, then emerged out of the buildings and into greenery.

"Welcome to Central Park."

Floriel drew a breath. Scattered across the grass, bunched around the base of trees, were her flowers— little yellow dandelions, clusters of pink and purple lilacs, rows of red and yellow tulips lining the pathways, white and yellow daffodils lining the lakes. A strange warmth emanated from her chest and branched out to the very tips of her fingers, and Floriel realised she had never smiled so wide in her millennia of existence.

"The flora of New York," Astella said, her smile mirroring Floriel's.

"I never realised my flowers could be this beautiful."

Around them, humans bent over to photograph her flowers, children played amongst them, a dog sped through a field towards a whole cluster, its owner tripping over her feet to keep a hold of its leash. A couple strolled up the pathway, exchanging a tulip and a daffodil and laughing giddily as they passed by, hand in hand. Floriel watched them, and hardly even realising it, let one hand drop from the bag at her chest. Within a moment, there was a hand in hers, and she looked over at Astella, surrounded by a faint golden aura, her eyes fixed on the path ahead. Floriel suppressed a smile, and didn't let go, instead, bending over to pluck a rose and handing it to Astella.

"What does this one mean?" she whispered.

"I have no clue," Floriel replied. "But I'm sure it's something lovely." Like you, Floriel thought.

Astella's gaze met hers for a fraction of a second before she turned back to the flower, the corners of her lips turning up in a smile.

Something stirred in Floriel's chest. Try as she might, she couldn't stamp it down.

They were still strolling Central Park when the sky turned from blue to orange to black. Floriel looked up and squeezed Astella's hand.

"So that's what you've been working on for millennia."

Astella let out a long breath. "Yup."

"It's beautiful."

Astella's golden eyes sparked. "You think so?"

Floriel nodded.

They sat at the foot of a tall elm and Floriel craned her neck upwards to stare up at Astella's life's work.

"Can you name any of those, Star Angel?"

Astella scoffed. "You're going to regret asking me that when I'm still talking in five hours."

Floriel laughed and without thinking, sidled closer. "Go on, then. Talk."

Astella's smile was accompanied by that beautiful golden aura as she pointed up at the white dots one by one. She talked and didn't stop, and Floriel hung on to her every word.

"… and that one's the constellation of Cassiopeia—"

"I flew by that one to find you!"

Astella turned away from the stars to study her. "You remembered my directions?"

She nodded. "I would've gotten lost without them."

Astella's gaze softened, and there came that familiar fluttering from deep inside Floriel's chest. "I hoped you'd find me."

"You did?"

Astella nodded. "I couldn't just leave you up there and disappear. Believe me," she said, a sad smile playing at her lips. "I tried. I couldn't do it." She gazed up at the stars, but Floriel knew she was looking well past them. "You're the only thing that could make me go back there."

Floriel's breath hitched in her throat. Before she could even find the words, Astella was getting to her feet.

"It's almost midnight." She held out a hand. "We should get to Times Square."

Times Square was filled to the brim when they reached, Astella taking Floriel's hand so they wouldn’t get separated in the crowd. They managed to squeeze into a little gap near the back, just as a large number appeared on the very top of a tall building, counting down from 59.

"Look at them," Astella yelled over the din. "They all just collectively decided to be happy today, and here they are, celebrating the life that is to come."

Floriel's heart thundered in her chest as she watched the humans. Some had begun to count down alongside the tower, and the air buzzed with their chants, their laughter, the sounds of their joy. She watched as they hugged and held hands and shared food and smiled. It was contagious, Floriel realised, smiling too as she inched closer to Astella, pressing their arms together.

"I know they're not perfect," Astella said, her voice small, "but… what have they done to deserve the destruction of their entire world?"

"Nothing," Floriel found herself saying as she watched a pair of children having a glow-stick fight.

Fifteen seconds left.

"You know," Astella piped up, as a bright, lit up sphere began to descend from the top of the tower. "It's tradition, when the countdown hits zero, for the humans to kiss."

"Really?"

The humans were screaming now. Five. Four. Three. Two. One!

Floriel barely got a glimpse of the numbers 2 0 2 4 lighting up, before grabbing the side of Astella's face and kissing her square on the mouth.

It was like nothing she'd ever experienced before. The crowd evaporated. It was just her and Astella, their lips pressed together, one hand on Astella's face, the other clinging to Astella's for dear life. When she pulled away, Astella's eyes were wide.

"Did- did I do it right?" Floriel spluttered.

Astella blinked once, her jaw still agape. "I- I think so? I don't know. I've never done this before."

Floriel gaped at her. "You haven't?!"

Astella shook her head. "Can we… do it again?"

"Yes—" The word had barely escaped her lips before Astella's mouth was on hers again. The fireworks from Times Square seemed to have made it into Floriel's stomach as she kissed her back, her hand tangling into Astella's hair as Astella wound an arm around her, pulling her so close their bodies were flush. When she finally pulled back, it was a moment before Floriel reopened her eyes.

Astella's face was filled with hope. "Does this mean…?"

Floriel thought of the sanitised gleam of Heaven. The locked silver gates. Their centuries of secret meetings. How they were the only times Floriel ever smiled.

What was the point of giving these humans love and life and stars and flowers, only to take it all away for God's amusement?

What was the point of Floriel and Asteriel, if the purpose of their creation was to be wiped away?

"We have to save them."

Astella's glow was as though a star had landed in Times Square. "Thank you, Floriel," she said, and wrapped her arms around her, her face in the crook of her neck.

"Flora."

Astella pulled away just enough to meet her gaze. "Flora," she repeated, then planted a kiss on Flora's cheek.