Chapter 1

Chapter 1 — The little village at the end of the world

At the end of the world, where the road stops and the great forest begins, there was a very small village called Clairval.

Its houses had crooked roofs, its alleyways smelled of warm bread, and no one had ever gone to see what lay beyond the forest. Some said the world ended there. Others said it began again, colder.

But in Clairval, no one looked toward the forest. They looked at the sky.

For right above the bell tower shone the Great Star.

It was bigger and more golden than all the others, and it had watched over the village forever. Thanks to it, the flowers opened at nightfall, the milk never turned sour in the pots, and the baker’s old cat slept on the edge of his window, purring, bathed in its warm light. In Clairval, night was never completely dark.

And no one in the whole village loved the Great Star as much as Luna.

Luna was ten years old, had hair with a mind of its own, knees that were always scraped, and a habit that made everyone smile: she talked to the stars.

— Always with your head in the stars, huh? the baker would say to her every morning, handing her a croissant.

— Not in the clouds, sir! she would answer. In the stars. That’s much higher!

The other children preferred playing ball in the square. Luna, on the other hand, climbed onto the roof of her house, lay down on the tiles, and counted the little lights until her eyes closed on their own. She was sure of it: one day, she would go and see up close where they came from.

That evening was the eve of the Festival of Lights, and the whole of Clairval was in a frenzy. Paper lanterns were being hung from the windows, the baker was putting star-shaped brioches in the oven, and the children were running everywhere dragging garlands behind them. Every year, the village thanked the Great Star this way, with songs and lanterns, for everything it gave them.

Luna, meanwhile, had dashed off to her roof.

— Good evening, Great Star, she said, sitting down. Tomorrow is your celebration. The whole village will sing for you. I’ll sing the loudest, even if I sing a little off-key.

The Great Star twinkled softly. Luna would have sworn it had just answered her.

A little cough sounded behind her. Grandma Aurore had just appeared through the skylight, a shawl over her shoulders, out of breath but very dignified.

— At my age, my little moon, one doesn’t climb onto roofs anymore, she declared. But there’s always an exception for special occasions.

Grandma Aurore was very small, with white hair pinned up in a bun, wrinkles that traced a thousand paths across her face, and sparkling eyes that seemed to have kept a piece of sky. She sat down beside Luna, and the two of them stayed there for a moment looking up.

— Do you think she can hear me? asked Luna.

— The stars hear everything, Grandma replied. But they need us to lift our eyes to them. That’s how they know we’re here.

Then she rummaged in the pocket of her apron and took out a small bundle wrapped in a lace handkerchief.

— I kept this for you. For the right moment.

Luna unfolded the handkerchief carefully. Inside was a star-shaped locket, in slightly tarnished silver, hanging from a thin midnight-blue ribbon. She took it in the palm of her hand. It was warm, as if it still held a little of the Great Star’s warmth inside it.

— Oh, Grandma… It’s beautiful.

— It’s yours now. Keep it close to your heart. And never forget what I always tell you…

Luna smiled, and their two voices rose together into the night :

— A star shines as long as someone believes in it.

Luna closed her fingers around the locket. Then, after a silence, she asked softly :

— What if we stopped believing in it?

Grandma didn’t answer right away. A shadow passed over her face, as quickly as a bird before the moon.

— Then the sky would become very dark, my moon, she finally said. But that won’t happen. Not as long as there are little girls like you to look at it.

She kissed her on the forehead, and the two of them climbed back down through the skylight: Grandma muttering about her knees, Luna laughing.

Later, in her bed, Luna slipped the ribbon around her neck. The locket rested against her heart, warm and soft. Through the window, the Great Star watched over Clairval, brighter than ever.

— Good night, Luna whispered.

And she fell asleep smiling, while outside, the Great Star shone as it did every night, as if nothing in the world could put it out.