She vowed she would never put on that dress again. Yet she kept it in her closet for unspoken, unknown reasons. Moon never thought she would ever have to see it again… and now, she felt like she was fourteen all over again.

But she wasn’t.

Fast forward almost twenty-five years.

She found herself preparing for another funeral. A funeral she never thought she would ever see. Of course, all death was unexpected but this… this was a whole other level. As she looked in the mirror while tucking periwinkle locks beneath the black hood, Moon felt as broken as the cracks on the glass.

Her royal chambers were hollowed out, pillars of the castle were empty and haunting.

Mewni had fallen.

And it was going to take everything she had, even more than that, in order to fix it.

“Are you ready?” River spoke up.

“How could I be ready for this?” she mumbled.

She glanced up ever-so-slightly, now looking at an old photograph that was wedged in the mirror’s frame. Somehow still there after all the chaos. It was Star, four years old, sitting in her mother’s throne. She was so tiny, so adorable and innocent— Moon swallowed hard, her hands falling and gripping the edge of her vanity so tight that her knuckles were white.

“Moon,” River said, his voice clearly thick with tears. “We have to go,”

A low, steady trumpet began to play down below in the tarnished castle gardens. It was not just their cue to arrive, but a cue to everyone else in Mewni who wished to attend the service.

“I don’t want to,” Moon whispered.

“I know,” he assured. “I don’t either,”

He sounded like he was about to cry any moment now. One of his calloused, rough hands rested on top of her scarred, pale hand. Moon glanced at him, her hand shaking as she adjusted it so their fingers could intertwine. River swallowed hard, unable to look his wife in the eye.

She fumbled to get a handkerchief from her dress pocket, dabbing at her husband’s cheeks, starting to get soaked with tears.

“River, I—”

“I know, Moon. I know,”

And so they began to walk, heading down to face the truth.

The painful, surreal, heartbreaking truth.

Mewni was without a Princess.

~ ~ ~

The crowd was quiet, save for a few sniffles. Commoners and other Mewman royals all sat together, disregarding status and ranking for this tragic day. Cleaning up the mess of the impact would come later, for now, under the worst of circumstances, Mewni was one.

The trumpet played by Manfred continued on with his solemn melody.

Heads turned as they watched the King and Queen slowly walk down the aisle, their hands clasped firmly together. As if they let go of each other, they would let go of what composure they had left. But alas, as tradition went, the Queen alone was supposed to bless the event, to keep everyone in tact.

How could she do that when she felt like falling apart?

Thankfully, no one seemed to notice the ruined Wand smuggled in her cloak. But it was all that was keeping Moon sane at this point. She let go of her husband’s hand, sadly watching him step away and take his seat. She swallowed hard, turning her head and looking at the crowd— the crowd that still grew, friends, family and strangers alike all crowded together.

Manfred stopped playing that damned trumpet, the haunting melody, and stepped towards the centerpiece of the castle gardens.

Flowers had been blasted away, pebbles were scattered, columns shattered…

...but one thing stayed still. An elegant stone marker, a grave Moon had seen many times through her years. And beside it? Well, it was currently covered by a heavy cloth but anyone could correctly guess what was hidden underneath it.

Moon slowly gave a nod and the baby blue, royal blue, Butterfly blue cloth was yanked by a golden rope.

And it exposed a new gravestone.

Don’t look at anything else, don’t look, don’t look, keep your focus , she told herself, and she tried to not look up, to just focus on the ground, but her eyes wandered anyhow—

—on the right, Queen Florina Mae “Flora” Butterfly , etched into marble, a carved portrait of her mother’s soft, serene face causing a wave of melancholy to wash over Moon—

—and on the left? Princess Starlight Destiny “Star” Butterfly . The profile was a perfect image, the new granite headstone polished. This would be the only way she’d see her daughter’s smile now. Moon felt herself trembling, a fresh flow of tears springing to her eyes.

Two Butterflys without their wings.

Moon was caught in the middle of them.

There was no going back. All hope had been lost.

First, her mother, but now her daughter? Her daughter, her baby girl, her shining Star was gone.

She had heard the howling sob, like a wounded animal, but it took a while before Moon realized it was she who had made the ghastly, haunting sound. Falling to her knees, a shaking hand over her heart, Moon didn’t care that her kingdom was now seeing their dauntless Queen crumble. This was it.

This was what she had fought for?

She had fought, she had been fierce, she risked her life and her own magic, she had been so, so brave and it had all been for naught.

The crowd broke out in a flurry of murmurs, and Moon felt a strong hand on her shoulder, helping her up.

“Moon, darling—” River began, only to be alarmed when his wife turned around, throwing herself against him, wailing into his black, silken suit. He let out a trembling sigh, rubbing circles on her back as he guided her away from the crowd that kept their eyes on their last lines of salvation.

Their King and Queen, who had never felt so burdened with their titles until now.

The King and Queen, who had given up .

“Does anyone have any words?” Manfred awkwardly spoke up, eyeing the crowd.

Not a single word.

Along with Queen Moon’s wailing, Mewni began to weep. A gradual, slow cry that was like a wave amongst the crowd. Mewmans dispersed, getting up from their seats, talking to one another, using each other for comfort —none of them noticed a stranger from a different land slowly walk down the aisle and face the Princess’s grave.

“Can I have a moment?” Marco asked.

“Certainly, young sir,” Manfred muttered, with a curt nod before he walked away, head down; for he too was hiding some tears.

Once alone, the Earth boy sighed heavily, his gaze unable to tear away from the perfectly carved portrait of his best friend. Her smile, her bright eyes, they were dull on the grave but bright in his memory. It was too real, too good, almost like she was right there for him to touch—

“Star?” Marco whispered, feeling how hollow, how lost his own voice was.

God, just her name on his lips hurt enough. Could he get through this?

“I… I miss you.”

Pathetic. But it was all he could say. It was the only way he felt. His hand ached, stiff from the bandages they were trapped in, and a single tear streamed down his cheek.

“If it makes any different, I tried to fight him,” he mumbled. “I wanted you back. I thought maybe, maybe if we took him down, you’d just— you’d come back. Like magic, y’know,” He had punched a hole through that monster. He had no idea how, but as for why?

He just wanted her back.

But he would never get her back now.

“Your parents made me an honorary Butterfly,” Marco went on. “I’m— I’m a knight now. I can protect Mewni, or at least what’s left of it, for you, in your name.”

Without magic, without lively spirit, what was Mewni?

A barren land of nothing but corn and desperation.

“We, uh, we couldn’t bring anyone from Earth to your ceremony,” he breathed out. “Because magic isn’t here anymore, but I… I don’t know if you know that.” Who was he kidding? It wasn’t just interdimensional scissors and crystals and all those things— they weren’t magic. Star was magic. “But your other friends showed up. And I’m here.”

He was stuck here, actually. No way to go home, to say goodbye to his parents. And as for the others?

Pony Head had been crying nonstop, along with eating her feelings by stealing anything sweet from the pathetic banquet table.

Tom was off stomping around and burning everything in sight, so now even the trees were leaning over in sorrow.

Kelly actually hadn’t shown up. Not to the official thing, anyway. She must have snuck in and out before anyone else was there. Tad had left a note on their assigned seat, which simply said ‘we miss her ’.

Buff Frog and all of his tadpoles sat in the farthest back row, crying and hugging each other.

“I wish you were still here,” Marco rambled. “I… I had so much I wanted to say to you, Star.”

He was saying that like it was her fault for leaving. But it wasn’t, of course not, she did a noble thing. She saved what was left of her kingdom. She did a very brave and incredibly selfless thing. Yet that didn’t heal the hurt of being gone, gone for good.

“I— I spent days sulking around, crying in oatmeal at three in the morning!” Marco exclaimed, pacing back and forth in front of her gravestone, disregarding anyone who might be staring at him now. “Listening to stupid Spanish ballads, hoping you would come back!” His voice cracked, tears now freely flowing and his head hung low. “But you didn’t. You didn’t come back, you just… you left . And I thought I had you back. I really thought we’d be okay.”

It could have been okay.

It could have been better than okay.

Because after that incident at that party, when Star left and then Jackie left because she wasn’t ‘ going to get involved with that, dude, we’re over ’, Marco thought he lost everything. And those late nights, those early mornings while he thought about his best friend—

—when he ran into the dungeon and saw her, she was there, and they hugged , and he never thought he would be so happy to see her—

—it was a happiness he had never felt before.

Her smile made him feel like they would get out of that together, and they did, technically.

In their own ways. But Star’s way out cost a price everyone had to pay.

“We… we all miss you, Star,” Marco said, with a defeated sigh. “Me, most of all. I—” What he wanted to say died on his lips. It was too late to say. He had thought endlessly, poured over it during those lonely nights, and yet now, it was worthless to say.

He had feelings. Too many complicated, stupid, crazy feelings.

And they were all in vain now.

Placing his wounded hand on top of her grave, Marco sniffled before walking away, heading in the same direction that the Queen and King had retreated in, back into the castle’s west wing.

~ ~ ~

If their bedroom chambers were a mess before, they were absolutely totaled now. Moon tore open her closet, haphazardly getting what bits of her armor she had salvaged and putting them on, cuffs over her mourning dress, chainmail tied over her corset— she was desperate, she was broken and she was angry. At the world, at everything that happened to her, to her daughter—

She was a mess, a flurry of everything all at once and it wasn’t fair . She was going to leave, and she knew what might await her if she just left, right now, off into the forest to find him, to make him feel just a fraction of the pain she was feeling—

“What happened to you?” River said, his voice low, almost scared as he looked at her, frozen in place.

“What happened to me?!” Moon practically howled. “I have lost everything except you, River! My kingdom, my magic, my family—!” Her voice cracked and she brought a shaking hand to her mouth, tears soaking her silken gloves.

Eclipsa’s marks were getting stronger, though. They began to seep through…

Moon was ready to give up. She was ready to let fate take her whichever way it planned.

“He took my mother and then he killed our daughter!” Moon wailed. “I’m going to find him and hunt him down, if it’s the last thing I do! He won’t get away with this, River, he won’t —” As she struggled with the ties on her belt, the sword fumbling in her grasp, her husband stepped forward and his strong, firm grip reached out to grab her shoulders.

“Moon, you’ll perish,” River declared. “It… it won’t work, you’ve tried—”

“I don’t care about that!” Moon shrieked. “If I can’t avenge them, l-let me join them!”

“ Moon !” River bellowed, appalled at his wife’s sudden, downright scary declaration.

“ What?! ” she snapped back at him, her entire body trembling. She was broken . She was too far gone. And to think, she had been so far gone that she barely noticed that her husband, her dearest love, the father of her child was just as broken.

Of course.

“Oh, River,” Moon whispered, her voice suddenly soft and wounded. “I… I’m sorry,”

“It’s fine,” he mumbled. “I know you’re upset,”

Moon’s wailing eventually slowed down into nothing but quiet sniffling, and she shook her head. “That’s no excuse,” she whispered, falling into her husband’s grip and burying her face in the crook of his neck. “I just— I don’t know what to do,”

River had nothing to say. He just held on tight to his wife, tightly enough to make sure that he would never let her go, that he wouldn’t lose her too… and for a man who was typically so open and animated, when he was broken, River Butterfly just quietly wept.

He didn’t shake. He didn’t falter.

He cried silently, and held on tight to what he had left… and right now, all he had left was Moon.

Moon, who gently pulled away from him to look into his eyes— perhaps for a sign, for something to tell her to keep going… but right now, the Queen had fallen and was ready to do whatever it took to feel something . What was left of the wand still rested on her hip. The fuchsia diamonds on her cheeks began to darken into a deep, dark violet. And her soft, sky blue eyes became flooded with tears yet again.

“I… I can’t believe this,” Moon mumbled. “Star— what was she doing?”

“She tried,” River sighed in defeat.

“I watched her do it,” Moon gasped. “I could have stopped her,” She paused, choking on her words. “I’m a terrible mother. I— I could have saved her after she did that— the… the Whispering Spell, River, she didn’t deserve that. She destroyed magic a-and herself, it didn’t have to be her,”

She was clutching onto his arms, nails digging in, and he looked at her solemnly.

“You’re right,” he mumbled. “It shouldn’t have been her. But,” He bit his lip, tears forming in his own eyes, rolling out in heavy waves. “But… she was strong. She knew what she was doing,”

“He’s taken everything from me,” Moon said coldly. “I want him dead .”

“Moon? River?”

The King and Queen froze in place, in that vulnerable position, when they turned to notice Marco standing in the crumbling doorway. He had his hands in his pockets, his face just as worn and weary as theirs. He stepped over a pile of rubble, hesitantly approaching them.

“I… I just wanted to know if there’s anything else you needed,” he muttered.

He paused, waiting for a reply. Instead, he got nothing. Marco sighed, taking his sprained hand and giving it a light shake, as if to keep it awake.

“Um,” He tried to speak up, but felt just as helpless as they did. “I, uh, I was going to watch the sunset.”

They looked at him as he was speaking another language.

“It… it was something Star and I did on bad days. She always said that sunsets made her happy. They gave her hope,” Marco couldn’t tear his eyes away from the royal couple and he let out an exasperated sigh. “It gave her something to look forward to when the day had let her down. That tomorrow might be better. I know you’ve lost everything, but—” He finally shook his head, looking away. “Never mind.”

“No,” Moon spoke up. “We… we would love to watch the sunset with you, Marco.”

She could have cried even more and thanked him endlessly, for all his bravery and kindness. But she felt like any more crying would have caused her to drown in sorrow, to become a shell of herself.

And so, with a shaking hand, Moon held out her elegant silver sword.

“You should have this,” she mumbled. “It belonged to my grandmother Diana. Star was supposed to inherit it but she, uh,” A laugh, of all things, slipped past Moon’s lips. “She was never good with swords anyhow. I’m sure she would want you to have it.”

With his good hand, Marco gently took the weapon, giving a curt nod. “Thanks, Queen,” he said softly.

“No,” Moon said, her voice low and firm. “Thank you .”

There was nothing more that had to be said. Her face expressed everything, and Marco bit his lip, hanging his head down— and he was surprised when he found himself gently pulled into a hug. Moon’s strength was weak, but the emotion behind the embrace, that was strong. Marco sighed, hugging back for a moment before he pulled away.

“I… I need a minute,” he muttered, dragging the sword behind him as he went back the way he came.

~ ~ ~

Everyone was gone. The setup in the castle gardens was now vacant, hallowed ground.

He could say it now. Something inspired him. Maybe it was the way her family subtlety promised to be there for him in this trying time, or all the memories he had with her, how they played in his mind over and over— but now, Marco felt stronger and braver. He lifted Queen Moon’s sword, letting it glimmer in the light of dusk.

Star’s grave was dull now. But that was okay.

And with a heave, Marco lunged the sword right in front of it and fell to his knees.

“I love you, Star,” he sighed.

Present tense.

Love.

Even if she was past tense, she once was, she was gone— his feelings were here. They would be. He was in love with his best friend, because why else would he have done everything he had done for her , just the way she loved him, and it was too late. But it was still there. He was here, with his feelings and troubles, and she was gone. She wouldn’t be there to hug him, to tell him it’d be okay, or to cheer him up with her crazy wonderful… everything.

Marco cried silently, a hand right beside Star’s portrait, and swallowed hard.

“I love you,” he repeated.

He wanted to hear her say it back. He could just imagine how she’d react, all smiles and laughter, pure Star, she’d probably try to knock him over in a hug—

—he could really use one of her hugs right now.

Instead, he just had the heavy, thick and humid summer breeze.

“I… I’m gonna miss you everyday,” Marco finally concluded before slowly getting up and turning around.

Turning around to face the King and Queen, sitting in the back row, holding hands; Moon’s head on River’s shoulder, both of them with blank, lost faces. Marco shook his head, shoving away what tears remained on his face before heading over to join them. He sat across the aisle, looking at the sun that begin to slowly lower towards the horizon.

He glanced at them, not sure of how to comfort them.

He had lost… someone very dear.

They were without their only child.

None of them said anything. The three of them simply sat there and watched the sunset until stars begin to brim the skyline. What they would do next, they weren’t sure. They were only sure of now, of the pain they were in, and of wounds they would never truly heal.

But at the very least, they had each other.