Together they locked their eyes on the mysterious red star and the misty trail flowing behind it.
“Father says the bleeding star is an omen,” Hila said.
“An omen? What’s that?” Tomas asked.
“Like, a message that something bad is coming. ‘A celestial warning of blood and death’, he claims.”
“That’s rather ominous,” Tomas said.
“Maybe it’s a warning from the Creator of the invasion.”
“But the invasion is already happening. Bit late for a warning now, isn’t it?”
Hila shrugged. “Perhaps the worst is still yet to come, then.”
“Perhaps.”
The thought undoubtedly made Tomas uneasy. Such a strange occurrence must have meant something. He had never heard of, nor seen, a red star flying across the heavens so slowly, so bizarrely. It appeared still when he watched it, but every night it was in a different spot in the sky compared to last.
What did it mean?
Tomas looked deep into Hila’s pure eyes, seeing the wonder and turmoil within. Her eyelids quivered.
“What do you think it is?” he asked softly.
Hila rubbed her chin. “Hmm…well, my father is a traditional man. He knows not how to read, but he memorises whole passages of the Words of Power, read aloud by Winterglade’s priests each night when we go to chantry. He lives each day by the 12 Laws. To him, everything is a sign from the Creator, or a lesson to be had to avoid eternal damnation.”
“Our village didn’t have a chantry,” Tomas replied.
“And what village are you from?”
“Brittlepeak.”
“Never heard of it.”
Tomas laughed. “Few have. It’s only small, sits in this serene, sheltered valley beside Mooncrest Mountain.”
“Sounds divine.” Tomas saw a twinkle in Hila’s eye.
“But it’s such a small village that I guess they never thought to build a chantry there! We were never taught the words of the Creator. We had no priests. Never even had a copy of the Words of Power, let alone someone who could read it. I know barely anything about transcending, the æther, and all that.”
Hila chuckled. “Consider yourself lucky, then.”
“You’re not a religious woman?”
She shook her head. “Unlike my father, I’m not the type of person to believe in superstition.” Hila’s eyes did not leave the star as she spoke. “Every night, when I was a little girl, I’d come out here, look up at the sky, light a prayer lantern, and beg the Creator to take me away.
“I didn’t care where, so long as it was away from this freezing pile of mud and snow. I would dream of Ember’s beaches, sailing the oceans with Tekawa nomads, exploring the jungles of the western lands. I always wanted to swim with an emerald sea turtle. I hear they grow to the size of cows in some places! I wanted to look into its eyes as we swam side by side, try and work out what it was thinking.”
Hila shook her head as her words slowed. Tomas listened intently.
“At some points in my life, I would even pray to be taken to the æther.” Hila shrugged with a pout. “And every night I was ignored. I think that different people across the world interpret signs differently, to fit in with their lives and experiences. I believe that things mean whatever you want it to mean. A red star could be a blessing, a curse, an omen, or a gift. Or… it could just be a red star.”
Tomas could not help but smile at the poetic way that Hila described the ideas flowing through her mind. He had never heard someone speak so elegantly, all from a seemingly simple barmaid. Hila was speaking from a deep place, and Tomas was finding himself fascinated with the way she viewed things.
She noticed him staring and grinned.
“I used to wish for similar things as you,” Tomas agreed. “I would beg to anyone listening to take me away from Brittlepeak. Travellers, tradesmen, soldiers. But my father is…he’s a possessive man. Forbade me from leaving.”
Tomas attempted to conceal the hate that nearly spilled from his mouth as he spoke of his father. Hila shut her mouth and nodded, as if prompting him to continue.
“I always wanted to be a knight, actually.”
Hila snickered. “A knight? Can farm boys even be knights?”
Tomas shrugged, and laughed with her. “If not, then I’ll be the first.”
“I’d put my money on that, Ser Tomas.”
Tomas continued chuckling with the beautiful barmaid amongst the juniper trees as they fantasised their alternate lives.
“So how did you end up serving as a soldier?”
“Recruiters were conscripting peasants across the kingdom. Rilan and I joined up without telling our families. Left home that very day and were sent to Barrowtown.”
Hila studied the frown on Tomas’s face. “Did you not get your wish, then? You got to leave your hometown.”
Tomas rubbed the back of his neck. The images of the battle flashed through his mind. He felt his stomach twisting and his heart pumping, just like on that day. He could smell the sweat and the mud, taste the blood.
Then, the nightmare of what he had done to that one Imperial soldier seemed to manifest in the snow before him.
The scared man, clawing at his spilled innards with blood-slicked hands to try and push them back into his open abdomen.
The horror in his voice as he cried out in fear, and the paralysis Tomas had experienced.
It was so real, as if it were happening all over again.
“Childhood wishes aren’t always what we hope for,” Tomas muttered solemnly.
The two locked eyes with each other, then fell silent for a moment. They looked back into the darkening sky towards the glittering red star.
“And if you were to believe in superstition? What then would you think the bleeding star is?” Tomas asked, trying
