Under a Thousand Stars
The five young men trudged through the shrublands with nothing but fear in their hearts. Lost. Fleeing. Alone. Not but a day ago, they had been united with their tribe. Now, how many of them were left? The band of runners did not know. All they remember was the screaming which awoke them. Blood stained the fields. Either the Ravaged Men or the Silver Men had come to the tribe - and neither liked to keep the tribal males alive.
They were all cowards, the lot of them. Their fathers would have said as such. To attack at night was dishonorable. Had they no shame, had they no regard for their heroic ancestors of long ago? Yet a feeling persisted in the hearts of the absconders: perhaps the true cowards were the ones who abandoned the tribe and ran.
"Agh!"
One of the older ones, Gawilugos, quietly cursed. His bare toes caught themselves on the edge of a stone, the pain coursing through his foot. The group stopped and turned to him. It was then when another one of the five, Kototowos, son of the shaman Afatarion, eyed the stone and pointed. "Look!"
They gathered around the stone, for it was in fact unusual. They had never seen one like it. It was cut perfectly round, and almost flat, with a decently sized round hole interrupting it's center. On its gray, smooth surface, images of dark skies, of war, disaster and glyphs they could not understand was painted upon its smooth surface. The full moon was generous tonight, to let them inspect this object.
"This can be an altar." Kototowos stared solemnly at the round stone. He did not know what it truly was, but more than ever, he felt a sacrifice was necessary. The goddesses were not happy, clearly not happy. They needed appeasement. But what...?
The oldest of the five, Arkhalion, found the implicit question. "A dead badger." Arkhalion motioned to it; the rest gathered. "This is acceptable." Kototowos' expression was unreadable as he uttered those words. As Cheradia, the second youngest, gathered tinder, bark, and grass, Kototowos picked up some flint rocks.
Bang. BANG. Crackle.
The badger's corpse began to burn on the strange, makeshift altar. The oldest three stood at attention; the younger two sat and stared into the depths of the flame. For a while, a deathly quiet ruled the air. Kototowos mouthed the prayers his father once said, the pleas to their lordesses for safety, for reuniting, for fortune and for much lighter times ahead. It was as Kototowos was wrapping up his words that the youngest, barely an adolescent, began to somberly sing.
𝅘𝅥𝅮 We'll always g-go and go, The m-moon will light the way, A-and then we can... run f-free... U-under a t-thousand stars... 𝅘𝅥𝅮
All the rest of the five turned to the boy. His tone was uneven, his voice wracked; he rendered his words not from his mouth, but from something below the surface, as if it were a recollection, a calming memory of something sang for him.
The boy was not getting better. The melody trembled with his body and wavered along with him. The rest could only gaze upon him, frowning, shaking their heads. Kototowos mouthed another prayer. Just for him.
𝅘𝅥𝅮 D-don't fear the w-world, d-don't f-f-fear... My... m-my sweet c-child... l-l-little sun... s-shine... The A-a-astral Queen w-will... b-b-bring us h-home... U-under a thou- 𝅘𝅥𝅲
The boy broke at that precise moment.
"Pitar!" Cheradia rushed to the bawling adolescent, trying to cover his mouth to no avail. "Pitar! Something bad can hear us!" Arkhalion and Gawilugos were on alert, scanning the surroundings. Kototowos glanced worriedly between all of them, to the screaming and wailing Pitar and the desperate Cheradia to the older two scavenging for anything they can use as a weapon. "Pitar! We'll be back with everyone again, Pitar!" Kototowos called to the boy, and the boy's weeping lowered in volume.
The shaman's son felt shame at once. How could he deliver such an empty promise to someone in such distress? Yet as hollow as the words may have been, it had an effect. As, Cheradia, close to tears himself, kept hugging Pitar in an attempt to comfort him, Arkhalion turned his gaze back to the younger three.
"We should sleep near the altar. It is safe here." Gawilugos, carrying a stone, offered to be first on watch. Arkhalion would be next, then Kototowos. The youngest two needed full rest for the day ahead. For whatever it may contain.
Soon, Cheradia and Pitar, whose tears still stained his face, were asleep on the grass. Kototowos would soon join them, singing to himself quietly. "My father's, father's, father's father's father, fought in the Tefinosis war..."
Arkhalion, as usual, was the last one to bed. But before the night sky gave way to pure black, he muttered one more prayer.
"May the Astral Queen give us protection... under a thousand stars..."
And with that, he fell into an uneasy slumber.