The Stars Ablaze Deleted Scene: Extended Epilogue, Part 1

Note: This post contains spoilers for the ending of The Stars Ablaze.

Author fact: not everything that gets written ends up in a book’s final draft. Sometimes there are scenes that work well in an outline, but just don’t gel with the rest of the story once you have the real draft together. Sometimes these end up being scenes that you as the author really like.

This happened with an earlier version of the epilogue in Stars Ablaze. I had a plan with several vignettes on what happened after the climax, and individually I liked them all. In the actual book, however, they just didn’t work - they introduced new issues and ideas when the story was meant to be winding down, and overall the flow felt off. I ended up removing them to go straight into the party scene, which was originally meant to be the last vignette in the sequence.

If The Stars Ablaze were a movie, these scenes would be in the Director’s Cut DVD extras. Since it’s not a movie, I’ll be posting them here instead. Without further ado, here’s Part 1 of what didn’t make the cut to the final epilogue.

***

Three months after the Battle of Amaecea

The most annoying part about losing her psionics, Kerelle mused, was the new uncertainty in her physical world. If she suddenly dropped this coffee cup, she couldn’t count on stabilizing it midair before it could spill everywhere and shatter on the ground. She’d just have to watch it break, then hope she could get coffee stains out of her shirt.

For some reason, that fact felt like a personal insult.

“You don’t need to stare at it like it’s going to leap up and attack you, Fury.” Sandrel took a long sip from his own cup. “I know things are weird right now but trust me, it’s coffee. You can handle it without psionics.”

“Are sure you’re not a telepath?” She asked it archly as she picked up the cup, albeit with a bit more care than she might have done a month ago.

Well, three months ago, actually. She was still having trouble internalizing how much time had actually passed.

“Absolutely certain,” he responded with a small smirk. “Trust me when I say it does not take telepathy to realize what you’re thinking right now.”

She gave him a rueful smile back and finally dared her espresso. It was quite good, not that she was surprised. Sandrel had always had excellent taste in coffee, though the label wasn’t anything she recognized.

“Is this place new since the rebuilding?” The battle with Velrin had devastated parts of Amaecea City, but a surprising amount of reconstruction had happened during her…absence. It was disconcerting to find blocks she’d been familiar with transformed overnight.

Well, overnight for her anyway.

“It is. The owner used to run a cafe over on Autumn Street. That whole block got taken out in the attack, and he decided to reopen over here as a coffee shop.” He watched her carefully. “Does it bother you?”

She knew what he meant by it - the fact that she’d lost two months of time, that the world had started moving on without her. Kerelle took another sip of espresso, buying time to sort through her thoughts.

Not that she needed it - Sandrel had that patient look again, that meant he’d wait as long as she needed to decide on her answer.

“Yes,” she admitted finally. “It feels silly. I wasn’t gone that long, and I could hardly expect the galaxy to pause and wait by my bedside. And really, everything is fine. I’m here, everyone’s here, we all made it through. It’s just….a lot.”

“I can imagine,” he answered frankly. “Especially because this is, what, your first time out of the house by yourself?”

Her blush probably answered for her. As if losing her psionics wasn’t enough, sleeping for two months hadn’t been great for her physical fitness either, and returning to her normal activity levels was taking a lot longer than she’d like. At least she could walk further than the kitchen now without needing to rest.

“There’s that too,” she admitted with an embarrassed laugh. “Thank you for inviting me out, by the way. Galhen’s apartment is lovely but spending another day on the couch streaming media might have driven me insane. Though I am caught up now on all the hot movies that premiered while we were fighting for our lives, so that’s been nice.”

Sandrel gave her a knowing look. “This was Galhen’s first day back at work, wasn’t it?” It was phrased like a question, but he already knew the answer. That it was her first day alone was likely why he’d invited her out in the first place.

Sandrel really was the best friend she’d ever had.

“Yes,” she confirmed anyway. “Really, the fact that he’s willing to leave me alone all day is the most promising news since I woke up. It’s how I know I’m actually getting better.” Kerelle finished her espresso and eyed their plate of pastries. Her initially finicky appetite was finally starting to feel normal again. “You know, I’ve watched Galhen treat a countless number of patients, but it’s the first time I’ve ever been one of them. There was a lot of…hovering.” It came out a bit sharper than she’d intended.

“Cut him some slack, Fury,” Sandrel answered gently. “He was a mess while you were gone.”

Her cheeks grew hot. “I know…or, I can imagine, anyway, what it would have been like for me if he were the one unconscious for months. And I know I’m not a terribly good patient. It’s just frustrating how long it’s taken me to get better. It’s been a whole month since I woke up.” She grabbed a pastry, as a symbol of normal if nothing else. “I’m actually a bit surprised the hospital let him take so much time in the first place.”

“It’s not every day a class-3 regenerative saunters in and wants to run your trauma unit,” Sandrel noted drily. “If he wants a leave of absence to take care of his wife? Who, by the way, is a war hero credited with preventing untold civilian deaths at nearly the cost of her own life? They’re going to let him take all the time he needs.”

She reddened. Galhen told her she’d been awarded Amaecea’s highest medal of honor “in absentia,” which sounded nicer than “posthumously,” which is what she was pretty sure they’d assumed. She’d filed that whole idea under “too much to think about right now” and shoved it in the same box as the medal, which was currently in the back of her closet.

Sensing her change in mood, Sandrel leaned in to change the subject.

“If you’re up to it, we could head over to the arts district after this. They reopened Grand Park and got the fountains running again, it’s a nice stroll.”

Sunshine and fountains sounded like exactly what she needed. “Thank you, that sounds wonderful. Though,” the blush crept up her cheeks again, “you didn’t have to clear your schedule for me.”

Sandrel threw back his head and laughed. “What’s to clear, Fury? We’re both unemployed at the moment. Lounging around drinking espresso and looking at fountains is my schedule today.” He clinked his cup against hers, and Kerelle found herself laughing too as a lightness spread through her chest.

For the first time she could remember, there was nothing she was supposed to be doing, no duty that needed fulfilling. There was no imminent threat of destruction, hanging over all their heads.

Whatever came next, it could be whatever she damn well felt like.