“A star weaver is many things to the Guild; whether
Soothsayer, advisor, or healer. At their core, all
represent the knowledge of Baraquiel – The Sacrificial Sun.
Even to a self-detrimental degree.”
— Atreia’s Intro to Astrological Healing
A gasp of air finally entered his body and eyes shot open in immediate panic, the sting of a pin that pricked the sole of his exposed foot. The room was filled with low noise of conversation, voices he didn’t expect. The windows - which were methodically placed every ten feet - brought in light that danced around the room. The stained glass fitted to represent depictions of the First Oracles cast the light in a rainbow of colours.
He peeled his lips apart from each other, sewn together by dried saliva and a parched tongue. He just walked off the edge, it was all too real, yet with a glance around the room he could tell he was in the university’s infirmary.
The cots were held together by silk threads, and the pillows were plush with goose down. Each bed housed a side table for personal belongings, and each room was sectioned off by beautifully embroidered tapestries of each title and constellation. As his hands grazed over the cots and satin bedsheets his ears caught a faint voice from somewhere outside his little cloth cubicle. ‘He’s awake, miss.’ Who could want to see him? He was friendly with all but typically kept to himself on university grounds. Just then it was the tapestry that flew open, the circlets that kept it hanging rattled his ears with the sharp sound like nails on lacquered driftwood.
“Thank Hestus you’re okay!” Reina’s voice barrelled through the space sending a ringing through his head.
“I told you one day you’d drink yourself here. Who the fuck do you think –”
“I saw something.” He cleared his throat, his eyes met hers as she took a step back, head jostled as if he offended her.
“You saw something? I sure hope so or we might have bigger problems on our hands.” She rushed to squat by his side, hand over his as soft as she could as if not to physically touch him. Her gaze softened into concern as she watched his normal sarcastic demeanour falter. He was serious.
Reina gave a small hum, her fingertips against his skin sent small shocks that tingled up his arm and into his chest. Naerus closed his eyes tight and let her touch work its way through his body. After a few moments of feeling the tingling make its way through his limbs and nestle its way into his head, he reopened his eyes and placed his other hand over hers.
“I was not here last night. I promise you have to have seen it.” He scoffed in disbelief, his memories feeling like a trick being played on him.
“Reina I saw the stars. All of them. The constellations danced for me, and… And I …” His brow furrowed the more he tried to recall what happened. The more he thought, the deeper the wrinkles in his forehead showed. “I saw something. I swear to you.” He tossed his legs over the side of the bed, enough for her to inch her way between them to look at him from straight on.
Her lips pressed into a thin line as she traced the outline of his body with her fingertips, finally resting them on his head. “May I?” Was all she asked. He’s seen her do this before with patients during her finals but never has been able to experience truly what a dream walker was able to do. There were times he pleaded, wanting to know what it felt like or if it would change him when they were younger, but Reina was adamant that it wasn’t a party trick to her. He gave a nod of consent, if she was asking now there was a reason.
Once she acknowledged his consent she got to work. Her eyes appeared to glaze over, forming a cloudy film to obscure her pupils. Her shoulders relaxed into a trans-like state which left only her fingers to pulsate and twitch in a rhythmic pattern Naerus couldn’t discern. To Naerus, however, the mystery surrounding this practice of dream walkers fell short and left him underwhelmed. He felt just the same as he had before she touched him, with the addition of small tingles that radiated in random parts of his scalp with each pulse of her fingertips. He was hoping for something more extravagant to overtake him, something mysterious and magickal.
He regarded magick users quite highly as the Guild considered those that naturally harmonized with it closer to the stars and Gods. Something that he would have given anything to have felt. He glanced down at his hands and wiggled his fingers, a dream he had that was unrealistic to fulfill. Within the palms felt empty, something he longed to have filled them but knew nothing physical would fill that void.
That’s not right. He squeezed his eyes tight to push the thoughts out of his mind. Being magickally holy would have put him more in the limelight, something he tried to avoid his entire life. He contemplated, eyes focused on his hands as to why these were feelings he suddenly felt, unfamiliar but burned a sudden hole into his core.
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Reina, still digging within his mind began to hum a soft lullaby, one that she had sung throughout the years as she worked, studied, or calmed herself in the stress of the guild. The song brought familiar memories that furthered his thoughts of something missing.
That’s it. His gaze shot up and locked on Reina’s cloudy, empty eyes, his own wide. The lullaby was it, the familiar song she hummed was the hum he heard the previous night. The song that felt miles away that called to him in the middle of the abyss was her lullaby.
Whether it was his realization or whatever she found herself he wasn’t sure, but the connection he made forced her to yank her hands back and hold tightly against her body. The cloudiness of her eyes faded and all that was left were eyes filled with confusion and fear. She took a few steps back, knocking into a small cart left in his room. The way she looked at him shifted from an adoring companion turned sour left a pit in his stomach that urged him to reach out.
To give her a reassuring touch was all he needed, the look of fear in her eyes was unfamiliar and when directed at him felt like his very skin was incorrect. “Reina –”
She raised her hand, palm towards him in a way that urged him to fall short of his concern. Her other hand covered her mouth and the way her shoulders lurched as she stifled a cry was enough to drive him insane.
“Please, Naerus. I’m sorry I… I have to go.” Her eyes darted towards the exit before returning to him. He pushed himself to his feet, wobbly from the drink and the uncertainty of his night.
“Reina, what did you –”
“I’m sorry Naerus, I can’t. There is nothing that can change what has and will be done.” She balled her fists to wipe the tears that grew in her eyes before they fell. “Please, venture safe in your studies.” Was the last word she uttered. She bent at the waist with her hands on her thighs in a deep bow and head hung low, a symbol amongst peers at the university that showed respect and humbled even the highest rank.
Before he could counter and ask questions in his confusion and panic she rose and briskly walked through the privacy tapestry to his room. Seemingly the moment she disappeared from his view her footsteps faded into nothing - like she was never there to begin with. He stood, hand still outstretched in his attempt to comfort and clarify, alone once again.
His breath left his lungs, shaky and uneven as his hand found the edge of the cot to guide him back to sit. “She left? How could she leave?” He mumbled under his breath, eyes glued to the stone-tiled floor with a wave of disbelief that pressed his shoulders down as if the weight of the world rested on his very body.
The tapestry slid open once again and his mouth moved faster than he could process. “Reina I don’t know what you saw but I’m so–”
A nurse dressed in white with gold hemming stood in front of him with dark circles under her already tired eyes. On her shoulder was a patch of the constellation Xera, which represented spiritual knowledge — the patch of the university. Her hair was tied in a messy bun that shouted it was far too long she had since had a break, and paperwork was in her hands.
“Apology Ser Geldon for the interruption,” she quickly bowed at the waist, her forehead nearly touching the paperwork.
“I’ve been your star weaver today, here to release you. Just need a signature from you, Ser.”
Naerus blinked a few times, his mouth moved to try to find the right words for what felt like an eternity, the star weaver patiently waited for an answer. A high-pitched ring drowned out the other sounds that reverberated in his skull, a repeating cycle of empty self-blame. “A signature. Yes, yes of course.” The words stumbled from in between his lips habitually; his hand left a graceful signature on the bottom line idly perfected. A gesture mindlessly recreated thousands of times at his position in the university.
“Thank you, Ser.” This time a bow of just her head, the paperwork gripped close to her chest. “Please see a star weaver before this happens next time. My recommendation.” Her words, while topped with a courtesy given to all, were built on a base of disappointment that given any other day would slide off him as an everyday occurrence.
Naerus gathered up his issued topcoat and tucked his amulet under his vest and linen shirt once changed from the infirmary dressings. The actions were precise and practiced, however, his head was bundled up in an eternity of knots with his skull throbbing from pain. It wasn’t his first rodeo to land himself in the infirmary after a stressful paper due date or a celebratory excursion went too far – this though, was a new mind fog.
Ladies of the university swarmed him as he passed through the large double doors that sparkled and breathed a light fog from their enchantments. Each woman invaded his space with a sense of want, of desire for the possibility that one would draw his attention – a chance to become a noble when he was to take the throne. It was a dance. He twisted and turned his body to slide past them, his eyes staring through them with each step. To them, he appeared a mystical Eladaerin in the light cast from the cathedral windows that lined the hall.
One of the women managed to grab ahold of the small buckle on the back of his vest and his footing stumbled. The small horde he gathered paused with a gasp in unison, whether in awe or confusion didn’t matter, he only knew it was the last straw. His head whipped around to shoot a glare, his eyes piercing and his chest throbbed with an aching pain. “Get the fuck out of here! Every one of you who would sell yourself into nobility are whores! Every. Fucking. One of you!”
Another round of exasperated huffs echoed one another followed by a wave of murmurs from the crowd as it started to dissipate in a trickle. The fantastical man of myth in their rose-coloured glasses faded and what stood before them was a man. A man with hair out of place and mad eyes, a beast cornered and ready to lunge.
He watched each of them go their own way until he stood in front of only a handful of the women who remained in the large hallway of stone and stripped wood. A slow, deliberate breath that matched the pace of his hand as it combed back his hair with a small onyx comb that he kept in his back pocket.
“Apologies ladies.”
He tucked the comb back in its spot, straightened his vest, and took a deep bow – an attempt to compose himself amidst his chaos.
“Have a lovely day and enjoy the sun.”
The few remaining women sheepishly gave a faint and simple nod, their hands stuck in one another in front of them in response. He gave one final, firm nod unsure if it was for them or him before he turned on his heel and disappeared down the hall.