Stargazer

Chapter 8

We walked to our tree and it seemed so small in comparison to the one I had almost lost my life in earlier that day. The branch we liked to sit on was barely off the ground and our legs could almost touch, but it made for a comfortable place to laze about.

Jasmine handed me my cookie and we both devoured them leaving remnants of powdered sugar we had to try to wipe from our lips. Luckily, I had brought the jug of mead and we cracked it open, sighing again at its wonderful, burning sweetness.

I pulled out my weapons to show her, half expecting what she would already say.

"Those are….uh...really something, aren't they? They're unique and...uh"

"Jasmine! They are unique!” I stopped her from bantering. “The fact that they don’t look like all the others, means they’re special already. I bet they could just use some cleaning up and they’ll look great!” I affectionately rubbed the hilt of my dagger on my tunic attempting to polish the greenish-black hue, but nothing changed.

We fell into our typical rhythm of leaning against one another, shoulder to shoulder, always exhausted after the days’ desert sun, but never wanting tomorrow to begin.

“What do the stars say tonight, Solé?” Jasmine asked after she was quiet in thought for some time. I knew where her thoughts lay and wanted me to see something in the stars that would solve all her problems.

“So if you could choose something other than an Assassin, what would you be? Where is your inner spark, Jasmine?” She continued to be quiet for a long time before answering.

“I don’t know, exactly. It’s hard to say for sure, but it’s as if there's something else out there waiting for me to discover.” I got infuriated at her; scared for her.

“You don’t know that, though! That’s all dream talk! You know what’s going to happen if you choose to not fight!? You’re gonna be a cook or a maid for the Academy for the rest of your life! Do you want that!? Is that what you wish to be doing?” She hesitated in surprise at my frustration then spoke honestly.

"Maybe. Perhaps, I could want to do that instead. Is there a problem with that kind of life? Is it so much lower than that of everyone else? Is there no honor in cleaning and cooking and taking care of the people you love? I honestly don’t know, but if that’s my calling, and I truly feel happy, then I’ll do it.” She nudged me then, to push me to lighten up. “Does that mean you wouldn’t be my best friend any longer, so you wouldn't have to associate with the likes of me?” When she put it that way, my heart was crushed, that she could even think for one minute that I would be capable of not wanting to be her best friend any longer, if it came to that.

“I’m hurt. You know it wouldn’t make a difference who you were or what you did. I could never stop loving you. I’d love you even if you looked like a rotten boar,” I nudged her beautiful, delicate face away and scoffed. She laughed in turn and I could sense the pressure lightening between us.

Things grew quiet and comfortable again and I began to fall into a dreamy, tired haze, looking into the soul of the sky.

The stars were all out now, and I could pinpoint most of the planets, as usual. The constellations were a bit trickier. I still saw Scorthion tonight, his stinger held up and ready for action. But what caught my eye most clearly was Camellion, the story of a woman turned into an Oyster. The myth goes that she was turned by her lover after she discovered he had a dark secret in an attempt to keep her quiet. She held on tightly to her sand child within her, protecting it and keeping it a secret for many years until it turned into a beautiful and rare pearl. One day, she spit out the pearl into the ocean and it turned into Vadalla; a beautiful, seductive young woman who carried the secrets of her mother. Those secrets were used in retribution to the man that had attempted to silence her mother, ultimately leading to his demise.

“I see Camellion, the mother, the secret holder, the oyster in the stars tonight. She is trying to show me the wonder of family, and her daughter, Vadalla, the pearl.”

“Hmmm, family. Maybe it’s saying we’re family? Like a confirmation!” She lay her head on my shoulder, her heavy, red locks falling down my back.

“Maybe,” I smiled and said out loud, but knew that wasn't it. I didn't know what the sign meant, though. I swallowed hard as I realized Scorthion was set to sting and his stinger was pointing to Vadalla. Perhaps it was a warning that family was in danger? Jasmine? She was the closest thing to family I had. My thoughts began to stress me out and I couldn't take it anymore.

I yawned and called it a night, wishing Jasmine goodnight and headed back to my tent.

As I went to pull my door flap open, a hand abruptly grabbed my mouth. “Don’t scream,” the owner directed in a low whisper. I screamed anyway and bit the hand of my attacker.

“Ow!” A man’s voice rang in my ear, and then I recognized it.

“Pierce!?”

“Ouch! Did you have to bite me so hard?” He rubbed his hand and shook out the sting.

“Pierce, what are you doing here?” I whispered back. There was a strict rule of no one entering another's tent after dark.

“Listen, I had to come talk to you...to explain things.” His eyebrows turned upward in a pitiful face. Even in the dark, I could see his blond curls had escaped from their binds and his dark blue eyes narrowed at mine.

"There's nothing that needs to be explained," I replied, spitting at him bitterly in whispers. "You made it very clear that women are crazy and I wrecked things with my 'emotions'."

"I'm sorry you had to hear that! Keegan was listening when he shouldn't have been!"

"Oh! So who else were you telling? Ryker? Lyric? How many other people know I'm crazy!? Huh!?" I realized as soon as I said it, that I had sounded pretty crazy just then. Embarrassed, I threw my head down into my hands and shook my head, giggling at myself. A couple of callused hands gently cupped my own and pulled them away from my face where the dimmest of shadows revealed his silhouette very close to my own.

"You aren't crazy," he laughed in a whisper, "you're amazing." Then our lips found each other in the dark. And we synced back to a familiar place we'd discovered not too long ago. His breath was as sweet as always and another smell coming from his body was intoxicating, seemingly to be drugging me, making it impossible to think straight.

I wanted a piece of him, wanted to continue to experience him, but I didn't think I liked him; not truly, not yet. I didn't know much of anything about him that I liked. But maybe that could change. I finally pulled away from our embrace, our arms having been locked around each others' waists automatically.

"Pierce, I…"

"Shhhh, no need to speak about it now," he urged as his mouth came back forcefully onto mine. I gave in for a split second as my head raged war with itself.

"Pierce," again I pushed him away, this time holding my hand up to his chest to stop him. "I think you should go." He then ripped my hand away to the side and violently crushed his lips into mine, this time causing me pain.

But a moment later, I found he had jumped a few steps back, held up his hands in surprise, then chuckled at the sight of my dagger pointed at his chest. He laughed at it. "You think that rusty old thing will pose much of a threat?"

"Yeah," I gritted through my jaw, not pulling my dagger even a fraction away. "Have you ever heard of 'lock-jaw'?" I pushed the blade a bit more at him, making sure he would feel a nip of the tip. "They say you get it from rusty metal," I smiled maniacally.