Withering Starlight

3. The Night Of The Vanishing Stars

                                                 Chapter 3
                              The Night Of The Vanishing Stars

The looks people gave Eve on the streets as she limped past on her aching ankle were beyond irritating considering the fact that she was injured, bleeding, and seriously not in the mood to be stared at. And yet every street she took, every turn she made, there were more people with their beady eyes and deprecating gazes.

Eve kept a hand pressed over the deepest laceration; a cut on her upper arm, just below her shoulder. She walked through the dark, lamp lit streets of Marrowvale at a slow-going pace, burning emerald eyes trained ahead.

In most cities the stars weren't easily seen by the residents of the apartment buildings and tight-packed neighborhoods below, but in Marrowvale the lights beamed dimer than most, giving everyone the chance to admire – and miss – the sky above. Eve thought she was the only one looking up that night until she realized there were many groups of people around her, huddled together and whispering, pointing.

Eve stopped to look at them. It took her only a moment to notice what they were all staring at.

The stars in the sky were vanishing; maybe not enough of them to set off a wave of panic, but every now and again, every four finger-width apart, a spot of light would wink out – just simply gone.

Eve's confusion flared big and tall just as a man stepped up beside her, hands hanging by his sides as he looked up.

“It's the end of days, kid.” he said, seemingly not caring if he frightened her by his words. “It can only get worse from here.”

• • •

Eve left the stranger, the gathering crowds of people, and the disappearing stars behind to continue on her way to Calla's home.

If the Wraith's attack wasn't scary enough to make her crave the good-humored company of her best friend, then the withering starlight was.

Eve made her way up the stone steps out front of Calla's little house to knock her knuckles against the wooden door. She heard thumping footsteps coming down the stairs - “I'll get it!” - before she was greeted by bright light and warm, cinnamon scented air.

“Well, hello stran – oh my god! What happened to you?”

Eve didn't respond. Cal surged over Eve in a rush; pulling her inside, closing the door and holding her by her shoulders so she could look her over. Then she wrapped her arm around Eve to hold her together as if she might fall apart.

“Come on, before grandma sees you.” she said and hurried Eve up the stairs.

Eve had known Calla Thorne for four years, ever since the time when she ran into her on her first day at the local high school. Literally ran into her. There had been scattered books, smacking heads, and an array of apologies spilling from both their mouths. What they discovered afterwards was that they shared 95% of their classes together, including physics and history, Eve's two favorite subjects.

From then started the friendship that had lasted longer than any Eve had ever made. She'd met Cal a year before she met Raffe, who was with her the day they stumbled across his shop in the East.

Calla Thorne was a blithe girl, a little rebellious sometimes – actually, she had a serious problem with authority – and a little sarcastic, but undoubtedly the most continuously interesting and caring person Eve had ever met. She was the closest friend she'd ever known.