The shimmering stars so far away tell the stories of those who shall never be forgotten. The legacies of the greatest heroes are etched in the indigo sky, written in the stars.

Zack often stared up at the stars with dreamy, sky-blue eyes. Wide eyes flicked eagerly from one brilliant constellation to another. He would raise a hand and reach for the distant stars. With one finger, he would trace a nonexistent path and imagine that bright pinpricks of light shone where his finger ran. That would be his constellation.

He remembered the night he had seen the shooting stars. He had waited up until the night had dragged its black, star-speckled mantle across the sky. Eyes blurry with sleep, Zack stared up expectantly. When he saw the first shooting star, he perked up. His eyes shone with dreams of grandeur as he watched the ball of fire dance across the night. The star streaked like a thin, sliver teardrop, crying in the darkness. He closed his eyes, smiling widely, wishing for his own place among the stars that glittered and danced to light his way.

He wondered what the stars would look like up close. He imagined that he was flying, the wind playing with his dark, spiked hair. He imagined the large wings that would carry him to true freedom. He fancied that the beautiful, endless sky was all his. He smiled at the wistful thought. His fingers could not even brush the sky from where he was.

Embrace your dreams. If you want to be a hero, you need to have dreams.

It didn't hurt to have dreams, even if they seemed impassible. Someday, he would fly and someday he would be a hero. Those great desires burned in his heart and smoldered in his eyes. As long as he had those dreams to reach for and as long as he kept them in sight, he would make it.

Zack was brought out of his reverie by Phil's loud voice shouting out directions. He found himself staring up at the day-time sky. Lazily, he dreamed of the heroic deeds he would have to preform to receive that strip of nonexistent stars. He reached for the sky, still imagining the clouds at his fingertips.

"Dreams are all fine and dandy, but they won't make you a hero. Now, get your head out of those clouds and get to work." Phil chastised him.

Zack sighed, swinging his arms forward while bending his knees until his thighs tapped his calves. His muscles were warmed by the motion. Absentmindedly, he repeated this motion again and again. Once again, he let his mind wander idly.

He asked himself when his training would be over; when would he become a hero. But, he reassured himself silently, it will be worth it when I become a hero. The thought brought a smile to his face, brightening his eyes and invigorating him. All this work was towards a greater end. Every step brought him closer to his heart's dearest desire.

He began to run. He could still hear Phil going on and on in the background. He didn't bother to listen. Random words and phrases floated to his ears as his hair was pushed back by the wind. Running was almost like flying, he thought. He continued to run, even as a sharp pain stabbed into his side. Every step, every ache was worth it. Phil had always said that a great hero had to make some sacrifice to become truly great. He figured his training was sacrifice enough. All that work had to amount to something. What else did he have to give anyway?