The fireflies drifted above them like scattered stars, casting warm light across the bed where Elias sat beside Jamie, the bowl of porridge balanced on his knee.
He scooped up another spoonful.
"Once upon a time," he said, "there was a girl who was told the moon was made of cheese."
The flames above them shifted. A small cluster spiraled together, forming a disk of pale light—a moon, hanging in the darkness. Below it, a tiny figure appeared, her arms folded, her expression captured in flickering lines. She looked like Jamie. Jamie noticednoticed and glanced at Elias but he pretended not to notice and carried on.
"She was told this by everyone. Her parents. Her teachers. The knights who rode by her tower. The dragon who came to eat her before she befriended it and taught it to bake."
A dragon bloomed from the flames, comically small, its wings flapping. It landed beside the girl-figure and sat like a dog waiting for a treat.
Jamie's eyes flickered toward the fireflies. Her expression didn't change, but she didn't look away.
"The girl thought about this for approximately three seconds. Then she stole a boat, rowed to the sky, and went to see for herself."
The flames re-formed. A tiny boat sailed upward through the darkness, toward the moon. Jamie's gaze followed it.
Elias raised the spoon. She took it without looking at him.
"The moon was not cheese."
The boat reached the disk. The girl-figure climbed out and sat down. Around her, the moon's surface rippled like water—smooth, pale, luminous.
"It was pearl. Cold and smooth and silent, with craters like fingerprints where gods had touched it once and then forgotten."
Jamie's brow furrowed slightly. Not confusion—curiosity.
"She sat on it for a while, feeling disappointed. 'I rowed all that way for this?' she said. 'I could have bought a pearl from a merchant. Probably cheaper. Definitely closer.'"
The girl-figure lay back, arms behind her head, legs crossed. Her firefly foot bounced in the air.
Jamie's lip twitched. Just slightly.
"Then she noticed something. From up there, she could see everything. The whole world. The kingdoms. The forests. The baker who made bread so good the North Wind stole it. The Wind, still carrying the bread, circling the world because it was lonely and didn't know how to say so."
A whirlwind appeared beside the moon, a tiny loaf of bread spinning inside it. The girl-figure sat up to watch it pass.
Jamie leaned forward. Just a fraction. But she leaned.
"She could see the knights who had tried to rescue her from her tower, still standing at the base of it, arguing about the best way to get in."
A small tower bloomed below the moon. Figures in armor stood at its base, hands on their hips, clearly arguing. The girl-figure watched them with her chin in her hand.
Jamie's eyes narrowed. Not at Elias—at the story. She was immersed.
"She could see the dragon she'd befriended, asleep on her roof, dreaming of pastries."
The little dragon reappeared, curled on the tower roof, a tiny puff of steam rising from its nose in the shape of bread and cakes. Jamie's expression softened.
"And she could see the people who had told her the moon was cheese, still down there, still arguing about what it was made of, still never bothering to go see for themselves."
Below the moon, a cluster of tiny figures gesticulated wildly at the sky. One pointed at the moon. Another shrugged. A third with spectacles and buck teeth appeared to be lecturing the others with a finger raised.
Jamie made a sound. Not quite a laugh—a exhale through her nose, her lips pressed together.
Elias smiled faintly.
'Progress.'
He raised the spoon again. She took it.
"The girl laughed. It was the kind of laugh that starts in the belly and climbs up, pushing against the ribs, demanding to be let out."
The girl-figure threw her head back. Her shoulders shook. The moon beneath her seemed to glow brighter.
"She laughed until her sides hurt, until the moon beneath her hummed with the vibration of it, until somewhere below, a stray cat who had decided she was tired of being kicked looked up and thought: That sounds like someone who knows something I don't."
A cat appeared below the moon, its tail curling, its head tilted upward. The girl-figure waved at it.
"The girl named the moon something new. She never told anyone what it really was."
The moon's surface shimmered. Letters formed—a name that twisted and dissolved before it could be read.
Jamie's eyebrows rose. Her head tilted at Elias, mirroring the cat.
"Don't ask," Elias said. "She never told anyone and I'm not telling you either."
She glared at him. The glare was alive. It was present. This was the most Jamie she had looked in weeks.
Elias stuck his tongue out at her and raised the spoon. She took it without breaking the glare.
"She rowed back down. The cat was waiting for her."
The boat descended. The girl-figure stepped out. The cat sat before her, tail curled, looking up.
"'You,' said the cat, 'aren't interesting.'"
Jamie's eyes narrowed again. But there was something else there now—a spark.
"'I rowed to the moon,' said the girl. 'I'm not here for your approval.'"
The girl-figure folded her arms. The cat did not move.
"'Good,' said the cat. 'Because I don't give it. I want a throne.'"
Jamie's nose wrinkled. The expression was unmistakable:
'A throne?...' Was probably what she was thinking. Elias smiled.
"The girl thought for a moment then blinked. 'There's a perfectly good throne in the palace. My father, the king is sitting on it.'"
"'Then we shall move him.'"
The flames shifted. A palace rose, blocky and grand. Inside, a fat little king sat on an oversized chair, a wheel of cheese beside him.
Jamie's lip twitched again.
"The king was fat and red-faced and very proud of his cheese collection. 'I have twelve cheeses,' he told them. 'From twelve regions. I am the Cheese King. This is my identity.'"
The king-figure patted his cheese. The cat and the girl stared at him.
"'There is one cheese you dont have,' said the cat. 'The moon. And you've never even been there.'"
Jamie made that sound again—the almost-laugh, caught in her throat. Her eyes were bright.
"The king's face turned the color of a tomato that had been left in the sun too long. 'Guards!' he bellowed. 'Remove this creature!'"
Two guards appeared. They looked at the cat. The cat looked at them.
"'I have a dragon,' said the girl. 'It bakes.'"
The little dragon appeared beside her, wings spread, a tiny chef's hat perched between its horns.
Jamie's lips pressed together. Her shoulders shook.
"The guards left."
The palace emptied. The cat sat on the throne. The king sat in the corner, sputtering. The girl patted his head.
"'You could go to the moon,' she said. 'See what it really is, oh cheese king.'"
The king-figure wrung his hands. "'And what is it?' he demanded."
The girl-figure smiled. "'Well it's definately not cheese.'"
Jamie's head dropped. Her hand came up to cover her face. She was shaking—not from grief, not from cold. From trying to hold in a snicker.
Elias's smile widened.
He let the moment sit. Let the fireflies dance. Let Jamie's shoulders shake in the darkness, the soundless laugh that was still a laugh.
Then he continued.
"The kingdom, as it turned out, did not take kindly to a cat on the throne."
The palace filled with arguing figures. Merchants. Nobles. A small baker carrying a loaf of bread.
"The North Wind blew through the palace gates, still carrying the stolen bread, and said: 'I heard there's a cat in charge. That seems quite odd.'"
The whirlwind appeared again, the little loaf still inside. Jamie lowered her hand, watching.
"The baker," Elias said, "had been looking for her bread for months. She was not happy to see the Wind."
The baker-figure shook her fist. The Wind hovered, the bread spinning.
"'If you return the bread,' said the cat, 'the baker will bake you fresh loaves every week. She's been looking for you. She thinks you're lonely.'"
Jamie's eyes softened.
"The Wind was silent for a very long time. '...I am not lonely.'"
The cat-figure flicked its tail.
"'You steal bread from a baker and carry it around the world for months because you can't eat it. You are the loneliest wind I have ever met.'"
Jamie's gaze drifted to the fireflies. Her expression was unreadable—but she was listening. Really listening.
"The Wind left the bread on the steps and departed without another word. The next week, a fresh loaf appeared on the palace steps. No one knew who left it. The week after that, another."
The little loaf appeared. Then another. Then another.
"Eventually, the baker and the Wind became friends. They never spoke about the stolen bread. They didn't need to."
Elias raised the spoon. Jamie took it without looking away from the fireflies.
"The girl, meanwhile, was busy. She taught the knights to stop arguing and start building. She taught the dragon to bake for the hungry. She taught the cat to be queen—which mostly involved ignoring people until they figured things out for themselves."
Below the palace, the knights built walls. The dragon passed out pastries. The cat sat on the throne, doing absolutely nothing, looking extremely satisfied.
Jamie's lip curled upward. Not a twitch—a curve.
"The kingdom flourished. People stopped talking about cheese. They started talking about the moon—what it was, what it meant, whether they should go there themselves."
Jamie glanced at Elias. Her eyes asked the question her voice couldn't.
"Yes," he said. "Someone went."
He raised the spoon. She took it.
"The king—who was no longer king, just a man with a cheese collection and a lot of free time—approached the girl. 'I've been thinking,' he said. ' About anything aside cheese? That's dangerous,' said the cat."
Jamie's shoulders shook.
"'I want to go to the moon.'"
The king-figure appeared with a tiny boat.
"The girl studied him. 'Why?' He shuffled his feet. 'Because everyone says it's one thing. And you say it's another. And I want to know which one is true.'"
Jamie's expression shifted. Something flickered behind her eyes. Recognition, perhaps. Or longing.
"'You could just ask me.' the girl said. 'Would you tell me?' the king asked. The girl smiled. 'No.' He nodded slowly. 'Then I'll go myself.'"
The boat rose. The moon waited.
Jamie watched it ascend, her face half-lit by the fireflies.
"He did not come back for three days. When he finally returned, he was quiet. 'Well?' said the cat. 'What is it?' The man looked at the girl. She looked back."
"'It's not cheese,' he said. 'It's something much more beautiful.' And he never spoke of it again."
Jamie exhaled. It was not a sigh—it was something lighter. Something closer to release.
Elias fed her another spoonful.
"The girl grew older. The cat remained on the throne. The dragon opened a bakery. The Wind delivered bread. And the girl, when she was very old, built one more boat."
The girl-figure returned, older now, carrying a boat.
"'You're going back,' said the cat. 'I'm going back.' 'To see the moon again?' 'To see if it has turned to cheese.'"
The boat rose. The moon glowed.
"She rowed to the sky. The moon was waiting. It had not changed. It was still pearl, still cold, still silent."
The girl-figure sat on the moon. She looked down.
"Then she noticed something. There were other boats now. Not many—a few. People who had watched her row, who had watched the king row, who had decided that the only way to know the truth was to see it for themselves."
Around the moon, tiny boats appeared. Figures climbed out. They sat in silence, scattered across the surface, each looking down at the world.
"None of them were arguing. None of them were claiming to know. They were just... there. Looking."
Jamie's eyes were fixed on the fireflies. Her face was soft. Her lips were slightly parted.
"The girl laughed again. It was the same laugh. The one that started in the belly and climbed up, demanding to be let out."
The girl-figure threw her head back. Her shoulders shook.
"It echoed across the moon's surface, and somewhere, the other explorers heard it, and some of them laughed too, and some of them cried, and some of them just sat there, feeling the moon beneath them, feeling the world below, feeling the strange and terrible and wonderful weight of not knowing and going anyway."
The fireflies pulsed. The figures on the moon shimmered. The girl-figure lay back, arms behind her head, watching the stars.
"She lay on her back and watched the stars. 'I'm still here,' she said to no one. And somewhere, on a throne that no longer ruled anyone, a cat opened one eye and went back to sleep."
The fireflies drifted apart. The moon faded. The palace dissolved. The cat's eye closed.
The room was quiet.
Jamie stared at the empty space where the fireflies had been. Her expression was unreadable—but her shoulders were lower. Her hands were looser in her lap. She was not laughing. She was not crying.
She was just... there.
Elias set the empty bowl aside.
"That's the story," he said.
Jamie looked at him. Her eyes asked a question.
'What was it really?'
"The moon wasn't cheese," he said flatly.
Her eyes narrowed.
"It wasn't remotely connected to a cow."
The narrowing intensified.
"Maybe it's a giant egg and the gods were going to hatch it. Maybe the girl is still up there, waiting."
Jamie tilted her head. The same tilt the cat had given the girl.
"Does it matter? If you want to know get out of your own space and go see for yourself," he said.
"That's the point."
She stared at him for a long, long moment.
Then she reached out and took the spoon from the empty bowl. There was nothing on it. She put it in her mouth anyway, just to have something to do, and handed it back.
Elias took it. Just then her stomach grumbled.
Elias looked from her stomach to er face and narrowed his eyes.
"So you really were hungry and were intentionally starving yoursel."
Jamie looked away. Elias got up and came to sit in the direction she was facing. She looked foward and tried to ignore him glaring at her. There was a knock on the door.
''Young master Elias, Young Mistress Jamie, dinner is ready." The maid said. Jamie turned her face toward the door at the mention of the word dinner.
" Thank you, we will be there in a minute." Elias responded and got up to stand infront of Jamie with his arms folded.
"See her face. Get off your but and get changed. I'm not leaving this room without you and since I'm not gonna starve myself the final outcome is me dragging you out. You already know the two options you have."
Jamie leaned back and wrapped the morning coat tighter around her body.
" Oh now you're shy about not waering any clothes. I'm giving you up till the count of five or I drag you out, clothes be damned."
Jamie looked at him in disbelief.
"Five..." Elias said moving towards her and reaching out. Jamie rolled off the bed out of his reach and approached the wardrobe. Elias turned around when she took off the morning coat.
'May God grant whoever is gonna marry this girl strenghth.' He though rubing his eyes though, a faint smile played on his lips, a firefly landing on the silver ring on his little finger.