Of Blood and Stars — Hadrian & Alessa

The trail is narrowed and obscured beneath a fresh coat of shrubbery, but your feet follow it with a grace born from years of practice. 

Alessa is not far behind. 

You can feel her warm breath at the back of your neck and her looming crunching form when you lower yourself close to the ground. "It's near," you announce in a voice like the whisper of wind on leaves. 

Alessa comes to a halt behind you. She puts her hand on your shoulder, trying to see beyond it. A pause. "I see naught," she says, and your lips quirked at the frown in her tone. 

"You can't see it," you say, reaching back to grab her hand and pull her to follow. "You can feel it."

You step out of the ancient forest trail, eyes pinned on the ground before you. Tree roots shoot out from the earth like the spines of crumbling empires, with twigs, dead leaves, and hidden holes just waiting for you to stick your foot in and twist your ankle. 

Once, a lifetime ago, you had. You remember your Piki's laughter as Benz had to carry you home. Now, you slink across the forest as if you're one of its dwellers. 

"How may you feel a deer?" Alessa whispers as you guide her, sidestepping a small anthill. "Perhaps you may smell it, were you a dog. 'Tis ridiculous to claim one might—"

You shoot your hand out, making Alessa bump into your back. She sinks her nails under your ribs as she leans in to see what you're pointing at. "... a streak?"

"A hoofprint," you say, looking at the direction it pointed. "Fresh, too." 

You glance back at Alessa. She's wearing a light green blouse with her hair tied in a ponytail and her cheeks dripping sweat. The overhead trees keep you in the shade, but Alessa has not been built for heat — and it is hot. 

Her freckles are bathed in red, and her blue eyes shine with the thrill of amateur hunters. "How fresh?"

"Follow me."

She clicks her tongue. "Have I not been doing so?"

You smile and lean forward to kiss her quickly on the lips. "Have your bow at the ready."

Alessa nods, the red deeper than before, and together, you start crawling upwards a little hill. The trees thin as you go, and you climb from deep shade to the crisscross beam of sunlight through flower-riddled branches.

Ahead, down the gentle slope of the hill, is a clearing. In it, it’s an exhausted deer heaving in the middle.

For a moment, you're struck silent. It will never tire you to see the beauty of a wild beast. Even one whose eyes dart in terrified vigilance, trying to spot the two hairless monkeys following its trail. The sun pours into the middle of the clearing, bathing its coat from brown to a murky red and highlighting the white spots along its back. 

The antlers are big and majestic, and you move your lips around words taught to you even before you properly learn how to walk. "From dirt to flesh, to dirt again."

Besides you, Alessa sucks in an inaudible breath. Her lips part in wonder, and you catch the light moving across the blue of her eyes like a wave crashing against sand. They are slightly moist. For a moment – a brief, precious moment – Alessa is like a little kid, moved by the beauty in the world. 

But then, she catches you looking, and her face hardens. "Now?" she mouths, soundless, clutching the short bow. You check the deer, take note of his frantic nostrils, and give her the signal. 

Like the trained mercenary she is, Alessa does not hesitate. She holds the bow high, sucks in a breath—

And the arrow flies. 

Birds scatter across the cloudless sky when the deer lets out a thunderous bleat and storms out of the clearing, leaping high in the air. The arrow quivers still as it sticks harmlessly into the dirt. 

"No!" Alessa shouts as you bolt down the hill. Your hunting knife it's in your hands, but as you peer through the foliage, you only catch a glimpse of a beige coat before it disappears among the trees. 

You exhale, feeling the tiredness in your bones and the sweat on your brow... and you start to laugh. 

"Why are you cackling so?" Alessa demands as she draws near, her chest heaving up and down. "I am not skilled with the bow. I have told you so."

"It won," you say breathlessly with a massive smile. "It outplayed us."

Alessa shakes her head. "We may follow it still. It was more fatigued than we." She takes your arm and pulls you. "Let us go. I will fare better next time."

But you shake your head, too. "Will you?" you ask gently, digging your heels into the ground to keep her from dragging you. 

Alessa jerks your arm once more before she gives up. "I have said I shall," she promises with a stuck-out jaw. 

You smile at her, gentle still. "And I've no doubt you would. But tell me, Alessa, do you really want to?"

You peer into her eyes, defiant at first, but slowly, they shift to the side. "I did not miss on propose," she avoids the question. 

"I know you didn't."

"But I... I also thought, as I pulled the arrow, that we carry dry meat in our bag." Alessa hesitates. "I thought how we do not need anymore, and perhaps that thought may have soured my aim."

With a flick of your wrist, you grab her hand instead and pull her to you. Alessa goes until one of your arms loops around her waist. "You're right," you say, kindly. "It'd be a waste."

Alessa embraces you in a thankful silence, and for a moment, you stay still at the center of the clearing. The sun is starting to weaken, turning from gold to orange. 

Finally, Alessa breaks the quiet. "I... I had never seen one so close before," she says, her head propped on your shoulder. She's looking at the place where the deer had disappeared. "I have heard stories of such creatures and rudimentary drawings, but never... never once so close."

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" you ask, smiling at the wonder in her voice.

Alessa lifts her head to look you in the eyes. "They are magnificent," she declares. "Worthy of respect."

"We respect them," you say, forgetting that there's no more 'we' any longer. "All the game we hunted was respected. We were never cruel, nor did we kill the young or their mothers." You pause. “Unless it was rabbits. There’s no danger of ever exterminating rabbits.”

Alessa's cold fingers cup your cheeks. "Have you hunted many times?" 

"Pretty much all my early life," you tell her. "My old village survived on the animal's meat, their pelts, and the oils on their fat."

"You are exceedingly good at it," Alessa says. 

The compliment is unexpected. You cough, swallowing down a bit of spit. "I was alright," you mumble. "I'm a bit rusty."

But Alessa does not tolerate it. "Nonsense. I have observed you throughout today. You are capable of identifying patterns in the most confusing of grounds and following impossible trails. Your feet did not land once on an errant twig – which cannot be said the same of me. I knew not I could respect you more, but I do now. I respect what you are capable of.”

You can only stare at her. Alessa smiles beautifully and kisses you. "I have… enjoyed the day. Very much so.”

"Thank you for coming," you whisper against her lips. 

She steps back, hand in yours, and sits on the ground. "Tell me of your old village," Alessa says, not as a question but as a soft command. 

Your heart still aches whenever you think of it, of the people who made up your tribe. But today... "Alright." You sit beside her, welcoming her in your arms as the words start pouring from your lips. 

You talk until the sun is gone and stars litter the sky. You talk until your throat is parched, but you don't stop talking even to take a sip of water. You talk as the night deepens, and sorrows deeply buried in your heart come unearthed. 

You talk. Alessa listens. 

And just before you fall asleep, close to dawn, curled on each other, you think of the deer and wish it runs safely until the end of time.

- - - 

You lay back, your elbow propped on the purple cloth below you, and point your finger at the stars. "There. Do you see it?"

Hadrian squints his eyes. "The, uh." He pauses, brows furrowing in intense concentration. "The white curve?"

"Well, it's not much of a curve," you say, tracing the constellation. "It's more like a river that divides in two.” Your breath comes out of your lips in a white cloud of mist. Your heavy coat hangs around your shoulders, but nothing is warmer than Hadrian's thigh next to yours. "Where the river comes together, it goes down sharply."

Hadrian searches for a while more. You can practically hear the wheels turning at full speed inside his skull. You lower your hand and give him time — you know how hard it is to discern a pattern you have never seen before. 

Hadrian stares at the sky and then, just as random patterns in clouds suddenly, without changing in any way, becomes a sheep or a ship, he sees what you were pointing out all along. "I see it!" Hadrian's face lights up. "I see the river."

You pat him on the arm. "Well done!" you praise. His chest inflates. "Do you see where it falls?"

"I do! Sharply to the left."

"My mother called it the Taûros constellation," you whisper, tracing your finger along the familiar lines. You recall numerous nights under a sky so stary, it illuminated the earth as well as the sun. You remember Mai, lying next to you, much like Hadrian is, and making up constellations of her own. 

Benji's voice rings as if he's just by your feet. "Get up, you two! We could be playing pirates!"

"Everyone else calls it the Bull," you keep explaining to Hadrian with your eyes fixed on the sky. 

Hadrian squints at the group of shining stars once more. "I, uh. I can't see a bull."

You laugh. Mei had said the same thing. "Neither can I. None of the constellations’ names make sense to me." You turn your head to smile at him. "I think the people who named them might have smoked too much Blue Lotus."

Hadrian smiles back, although he looks a little lost. "Blue Lotus?"

"A flower found on the shores of the Nile," you explain. You lean in closer and whisper conspiratorially. "You smoke too much, and you start seeing things. Or so they told me."

Hadrian catches on. "So, they told you, uh?" he says, grinning.

You shove him playfully with your elbow. Hadrian chuckles, makes a motion to keep his mouth shut, and goes back to watching the sky. You follow his gaze. He watches Taûros. 

"Taûros is a Latin word, meaning bull," you explain the obvious. Your voice sours, then. "It's funny how they kept the same meaning. It seems the Church has no issue with stealing the knowledge of others."

Hadrian turns towards you. You don't see the way his brows lower, his expression closing. So, you keep talking. "Taûros is very noticeable at the height of winter," you continue, oblivious to the pity in his green eyes. "Desert's nights are cold always, but in the winter, we'd have to build these great fires that did little to warm the bones."

You smile, then. "To pass the time, my mother taught me the constellations. She knew so many of them."

Tentative silence falls for a little bit. "How many are there?" Hadrian asks gently. 

You blink at the sound of his voice, half-forgotten he was here, and turn to give him a quick smile. "I'm not sure. There are so many. When I was a kid, I used to be able to find at least four or five on a clear night." You look up again. "Now..."

You point up, almost hitting Hadrian in the nose. "There's Orion! The hunter."

Hadrian, however, doesn't try to find Orion. He seems more interested in finding constellations on your face. "And what else?" he probs in a low, softer tone. He shifts closer to you. 

You pluck your lips, searching. "I know there's... what was it called?" you muse, pulling at your memory. "Twins. Gemini. But I can't see it right now."

Hadrian's arm goes around your shoulder, and you find yourself leaning your side against his. His voice rings close to your temple. "What else?"

You look up. "Do you want me to name them all?" you ask, half-jokingly.

Hadrian grazes his lips on your temple. The kiss spreads warmth along your spine. "Of course."

"Why?"

Hadrian lowers his face, kissing the side of your eye now. You close your eyelids. White, ethereal constellations shine in the darkness. They spell out your mother’s name. "I want to see the night sky as you do," Hadrian says. "It's like... it's like the paintings on the ceiling of a cathedral."

You open your eyes when his finger sweeps away a cold tear from your cheek. "Like a window to your mind, love. I—" He blushes, but his intense green eyes bear into yours. "I want to look up and see the same sky you do, no matter how far we are apart."

The kiss is deep, his arms safe, and his words lap at the wounds of your heart. For so long, it has been you, your mother, and the road. And then, simply you and the road, with the constellations as cold reminders of what you lost.

As you lay against Hadrian's chest, pointing all the stars you can, their names coming to you like ancient ghosts, you realize that perhaps, you are alone no more.