Starfire

Chapter 22: -Twilight-

Najma watched the skies closely. There would be a moment—just a brief few seconds—where the sky would go grey, and then fade to a steel-black. It didn't happen often, and the fact that he would be here to witness it was something lucky indeed.

   He soon found, though, that he was watching for all the wrong reasons.

   It was an astrological wonder, equal with the Lights of Kronoe or an Empire Eclipse. He was more likely to see a supernova than to watch this again. Once in a lifetime.

   Oh, it would be beautiful. The unique solar system would lend itself to constellations so magnificent that even a stone would sigh in awe.

   Not the least of the reasons: he would finally see twilight again. How long he had been on Mikrask was a mystery that he had long-since lost interest in solving, but he knew one thing for sure, and that was the fact that he hadn't seen anything like a night sky in months, if not years.

   But as he yearned for one glimpse of a star, all he could feel was unsettled. There was something in his core that was crying out. The beauty wouldn't stir him, and he wouldn't be thinking of  scientific significance.

   His days here had been the most pleasant he had experienced since his early childhood. His company was neutral at the absolute worse and rather great most days. But those days had been... empty, and that friendship was built on half-truths and outright lies. His stay on Mikrask, somewhere in the interim, had become a purgatory of sorts.

  Restlessness clung to him like sap. He didn't miss what his life had become before his crash on Mikrask, but he realized now that he was languishing in this deceptive paradise.

   "Looking for home?" a quiet voice prodded Najma's attention into the present. There was Q'uanen, sitting only inches away on the tufty grass. He'd been quiet as a mouse during his arrival. "You must miss it." there was something almost accusatory in the way he said it. Or perhaps it was Najma's own heart that formed the accusation.

   "Yeah." Najma swallowed around a sensation of dust in his throat.

   "Which way is it? Can you see your system from here?" his eyes shone under the last rays of sun. A distant star poked the tiniest whole in the falling dusk. Before long, the suns would rise back over the horizons and end it before it began.

   A lump welled in Najma's throat before he could tamp it down. "Over there." Najma picked a direction at random. A glittering star had just appeared there, as if calling his name. Another lie, bitter as thorns.

    Q'uanen made a faint hum in the back of his throat.

   Najma only had to remember what had happened when he'd told the truth, and his remorse shriveled. It wasn't gone, but it was faded.

   Garter.

   The Alliance.

   The Battle, the blood.

   He'd been ignoring the memories, but those were among the few that remained fresh.

   Two more stars blinked down at them. The sky was a bit darker now, as if it had gotten burnt after so long under the rule of so many suns.

   Then, over the horizon, a brilliant orb began to lift into the sky. Mikrask's night had ended.

   Najma had run away again. Not only had he been lying to Q'uanen, he had been lying to himself. He shouldn't be here...

   But what was the point? what would it matter if he found a way off the damned planet? He was cursed with failure.

   "What's it like?"

   Najma looked at Q'uanen with a question in his eyes, forcing himself to snap out of it.

   "Your home. You never told me why you left." Sunrise painted the Makka's face gold and glittering. "You know why I did," he added with a faint smile.

   Najma blinked. "I had no choice. There was... nothing left." His voice caught somewhere in his throat, and he was so tempted to spill the whole truth right there that he had to bring his hand up to his mouth in order to physically contain the words.

   Q'uanen nodded slowly, as if he had correctly guessed some horrible truth—Najma's family had died, perhaps. Even worse, they'd thrown him out. Maybe his village had burned down, or he had been born onto an overcrowded mining moon. No matter what he guessed, there was no way he would chance upon the right answer: Najma had been quite literal. All that remained of his home was rocks and rubble drifting through a void.

   "I'm sorry. You probably didn't want to talk about it."

   Najma released a half-hysterical breath through his nose. "It's only natural to be curious." He said in a limp attempt to brush off the apology.

   He'd thought for a long time that he had left this behind him, but the insanity had been lurking just out of sight, biding it's time until a lull.

   "If it makes you feel any better, you can stay with me as long as you like." Q'uanen offered, a hint of hesitation in his voice. "Not that there was ever any question."

   Najma mustered a smile.

   "I bet you'll like it even better when we get a house." The kid turned his face to the sky once more, closing his eyes against the brightening light.

    It wasn't exactly an easy feat. Earning anything at all was nearly impossible. Q'uanen's 'curse' was rather easy to contract. Najma had to disguise himself whenever he wanted to buy or sell anything. Why work so hard for something with so little meaning? Najma was half-tempted to speak his mind, right here and now. The bright boy must have figured out by now that Najma would be leaving one day and planned on taking him along—he certainly must have hoped it, at the very least. He could put a stop to it all and they could pack up and travel to a new village where they could sell what they had and get a ride to another world.

   "Q'uanen?" Najma's insides were simultaneously numb and churning.

   Q'uanen looked over.

   It took only a second for Najma to decide, once and for all.

   Such a short time in which to make a decision as life-changing like this. But he was, historically, a coward.

   He couldn't do it.

   "We should get back and start dinner." He murmured, feeling like a traitor. But a traitor to who? The only person he cared about didn't even know about the turmoil and darkness that Najma was trying to bury.

   He was a traitor to no one but himself.