The Star Catcher

By L.F. Falconer

If a human girl is adopted by the fairies, can she ever truly be human again? Or has her life been altered forever beyond reclamation?

 

Taken in by the wood fairy as an infant, Takara lives a blessed life with her friends Mouse and Toad, and especially the tiny orchid mantis known as Hana. Her extraordinarily long life is filled with carefree play and excursions throughout the Enchanted Realm. Given a full education by the Red Dragon, Takara learns of life both within the enchanted world and the mortal world outside it. Though happy with her existence, Takara often wonders about the human world from which she came, but to abandon the protection endowed by her adoptive mother could lead to a cursed existence outside the land of enchantment.

 

One day, in defiance of her boundaries, Takara wanders into the Forbidden Grove. There she encounters a stranger who not only causes her to question her mother's motives for keeping her but ignites a rift among her and her friends. After losing Toad, Takara attempts to save Mouse from a terrible fate as well as fulfill a long ago promise made to Hana. But it can only be done by leaving the Enchanted Realm, an action which could ultimately lead to her own demise.

 

Inspired by the mystical beauty of Japan, The Star Catcher: The Curse and Seven Blessings is a novella of friendship and self-discovery, of questions and trust, where Happiness is found only when keeping true to one's self, and Enchantment can often prove deadly.

• Language: English
• Publisher: L.F. Falconer
• Release date: Mar 11, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215743454

Book preview

Before diving in, you might want to know ...

Not so long ago I had the opportunity to spend two weeks in the Tokyo area of Japan with my son, daughter-in-law, and grandson. To say I was smitten by the land is an understatement. The countryside was gorgeous, the cities fascinating.

Japan never held back. I experienced the horrific humidity, a typhoon, and a rather strong earthquake which left me shaken for hours afterwards. I was enthralled by the people, the scenic beauty, the temples, and the iconic history which seamlessly blended within the modern technology.

While supposedly in frequent view, in my entire two weeks there, Mt. Fuji remained shy, keeping her face well veiled within the cover of clouds. Even while we ate lunch at 7000 feet up her flank, she still kept her crown a secret. But when our guided tour finally took us to the Eight Sacred Ponds (Oshino Hakkai) near the end of the day, the grand mountain finally deigned to give us all a glimpse. Oh, how the crowd went wild, fingers pointing, cameras clicking, mine included. I am thankful she relented to show herself even for such a brief time, for I may never get another chance to see her.

The sheer scale of Tokyo and Yokohama was dauntingly breathtaking. Trains, buses, cars, bicycles, hordes of pedestrians, just to name a few, nearly overwhelmed this small-town country girl. One rainy morning we escaped the hustle and bustle of Tokyo through a magical portal and entered a gardenscape of unique quiet and serenity. Okay, it wasn’t really a magical portal but upon stepping through the gates of the Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden, it might as well have been. The bustle of the city seemed to instantly vanish and we were surrounded by one hundred and forty-four acres of greenery, flowers, manicured trees, ponds, and stone shrines in such a magnificent display of otherworldness it was hard to believe we were still in the midst of the city. Between the fascinating history I had soaked in at the Tokyo National Museum and the books I purchased there, as well as the secluded enchantment of the garden, a tale began to ignite in the back of my mind. And thus, The Star Catcher was born.

I infused my own imagination with some known myths and demons, engaged countless hours of research and eventually created my own version of what magic and horror might exist in such an enchanted land. Perhaps I took some artistic liberties with the traditional lore of the country in my writing of The Star Catcher, yet I strived to remain respectful of the country and its culture. The inspiration it kindled could not be restrained. The story begged to be written, and I wrote it.

From the very beginning of this book’s creation, I often referred to the story as my Japanese fairy tale. My pre-readers for The Star Catcher pointed out that there were certain words and terms used within the story quite unfamiliar which caused them some confusion. A few readers will be familiar with some of these words, others will not. I did my best to help clarify many terms used within the manuscript itself, yet to help give my readers a head start, I will provide here a brief definition of a few words and phrases used within these pages.

I refer often to the Ningen Realm. Ningen means human, which then easily translates to the Human Realm. I also have the Enchanted Realm, which is inhabited by the Yōsei and the Yōkai. The Yōsei are bewitching spirits, the word equates closely to the English word: fairy. The Yōkai, on the other hand, consist of a different class of supernatural being. Much like their human counterparts, Yōkai can be friendly and good-hearted, or they can be drawn toward more nefarious behaviors. However, the Yōkai are supernatural, therefore are also members of the Enchanted Realm.

Several types of Yōkai are mentioned within these pages. In a nutshell, the Yama Uba is an evil mountain witch. The Kitsune is a shape-shifting fox. The Kappa is a small turtle-like water goblin, often quite foul and debauched. Other Yōkai mentioned, though not making a true appearance, is the Nuppeppo, a small, blobby, odorous creature who inhabits abandoned places, and the Hibagon, the Japanese version of Bigfoot.

I make mention of the Sanji Kai, a council of legislative assembly. Also mentioned is a Kodama, or tree spirit. The Prime Elemental who appears momentarily to deliver news is referred to as a Kūki. Kūki mean air. Therefore, this particular Prime Elemental is an air spirit.

A higanbana is a red spider lily. The phrase arigato gozamaisu is a heartfelt, honorable thank you. A sensei is a teacher. When Takara sings Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, in Japanese she sings "Kira, Kira Boshi. In French, she sings Brille, Brille, Petite Etoile." She wears a haori, which is a light jacket. The samurai in the woods wears a kosode, a garment similar to a kimono, as well as hakama, loose-fitting wide-legged trousers. "Acchi e ike!" is one way of saying, Go away!  The phrase "Mayotte shimaimashita" means I have lost my way. At one point, the driver, Maikeru, shouts, "Chikusho! a curse which roughly translates to Damn it!"

Armed now with this condensed primer of Japanese (and a bit of French) words used within the following pages, I do sincerely hope you can slip into this world of make-believe and magic on a much stronger footing.

In closing, I found the country of Japan mystifying and enticing and inspiring. Just one of many such places in the world, I’m sure, yet one I am forever grateful to have had the opportunity to glean a brief view of. And to the entire nation of Japan, I say,Arigato gozamaisu. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

L.F. Falconer

The First Blessing

W hat, my daughter, is the first blessing?

The first blessing, Mother, is Strength.

And what, my daughter, is Strength?

"Strength is the ability to face all difficulties we may encounter. It is having faith in our own moral knowledge to stand up for and defend what we know to be right and true, even in the face of humiliation or defeat.

"Strength is having confidence in one’s own abilities and morality. It is a self-awareness and conviction in one’s beliefs. It is doing the right thing even if it brings grief, pain, or death. It is the integrity of the soul. It is the courage to forgive those you are angry with. It is the ability to smile when your heart aches. It is the power to do what must be done, against all odds.

Strength is what allows you to honor your spirit by owning and overcoming your own mistakes and shortcomings. Strength is courage. Strength is honor. Strength is a vow to keep true to yourself and to all others.

Go, my daughter, and be strong.

Yama Uba and the Higanbana

Long ago, long ago , Moriko left the sanctuary of Aoyagi’s garden ...

Like small torches, yellowing claws upon Moriko’s fingertips burned as she pushed her way through the tangled wisteria. The longer the claws grew, the more painful they became. Her heart thundered beneath the thinning skin of a sagging breast, pounding, threatening to rip its way through. Only the bloody swaddling of the infant pressed against it kept the heart captive. The stony earth cut her naked feet. Jagged, broken limbs caught her pale blue kimono as if to strip it from the abomination hidden beneath, for what right had such a monster as she to wear it? There had been a day not so long ago when she had borne the same delicate beauty as the garment itself. A time before the hunger had driven her to madness.

Moriko stopped to catch her breath, panting amid the tangled vines, the rancid perfume of the fading blossoms masking the scintillating odor of the blood she wore. Drawing the infant from her protective embrace, she stared down at the delectable face that peeked through the silk folds. The smooth, unblemished cheeks. Bright eyes. A shock of jet-black hair.

A dribble of drool slipped over Moriko’s trembling bottom lip, staining itself with blood as it slid across the greasy gray flesh of her chin. It hung like a pendulum before breaking free, spattering the child’s cheek. Moriko lifted the infant closer to her face and clenched her teeth. Peeling the swaddling back, she exposed the child’s head fully in the dim forest light. The infant gazed up at her and with a cherubic chortle, she smiled. Moriko opened her mouth. Two rows of razor-sharp teeth smiled at the baby in return. From the pit of Moriko’s soul, the ravenous hunger bellied up. Newborn flesh would taste so sweet. So sweet.

A katana-sharp pang cut through her torso. Shimmering with tears, her carnelian eyes welled. She leaned her head back, her eyes clamped shut. A mournful wail squealed from her taut throat and slithered through the bramble.

Had not the child’s mother been satisfaction enough? The sweetness of Yuki’s blood still nestled in her nostrils; small chunks of flesh lingering between Moriko’s teeth. Smacking her lips, Moriko stared at Yuki’s child once more. Yuki had been a friend long before she had become a feast.

Wrenching back her gnawing hunger, Moriko clutched the child back against her sallow bosom and pushed onward through the vines, deep within the Sea of Trees on the western flank of Fujiyama.

It had been boredom alone which had led her to stray from the protection of Aoygai’s garden ... a year ago? More? Less? Time in the mortal realm passed differently than it did for the Yōsei. Moriko was certain it must have been years, yet it felt as if only a day or two had passed since she had wended her way through the wisteria hedge to explore the forest surrounds. She’d had every intention of returning to Aoyagi’s garden before it was too late. But within the thick, beguiling stands of the hemlock firs, the hollies, the cypress, the oaks and cherry trees, she’d soon lost her way. The night had fallen swiftly and locked her into darkness. Alone with the voles and the bats, deep within Moriko’s aching bones, the Yōsei curse began.

The woodcutter, Eiji, had come upon Moriko the following morning. His good heart insisted the lost girl return with him to his home, a humble hut at the base of Fujiyama beside an icy stream, clean and welcoming. There, she was tended by Yuki, Eiji’s smiling wife, expectant with child. The two young women became fast friends and Yuki bade Moriko live with them, to help ease Yuki’s lonely existence within the woods and to aid with the birth and raising of the child.

Moriko knew she should have refused. She was cursed. It was in her aching bones. Her itching skin. Her fading color. Her growing hunger.  No longer did she even recognize her bent and twisted shadow, or her gnarled hands, so cold and unfeeling. She was becoming a stranger to her own heart.  Becoming Yama Uba ... a monster ... and would soon present Eiji and Yuki grave danger. Yet the goodness that Mother Aoyagi had instilled within Moriko’s mortal soul was powerful, and the girl believed she possessed the strength to stave off the hunger and control the curse.

She was wrong.

When Yuki’s child emerged, so too, did Moriko’s repressed hunger. The more the hunger grew, the swifter Moriko withered and aged. Believing Moriko to be ill, Yuki offered herbs and tea to no avail. Moriko continued to deteriorate while struggling to deny the change. Fighting to reject its inevitability.

Yet Eiji knew. Moriko could see the knowledge of her secret reflected within his eyes. Within his disdain. Within his pungent fear.

One day, leaving his axe behind lest it invoke Moriko’s hesitation, he bade her accompany him up the mountainside and into the forest where he had found her. Once deeply ensconced within those woods, he begged her to return to her own place within the Sea of Trees. He made it clear that should she dare return to his hut, he would not hesitate to raise his axe against her.

Enraged, Moriko