The Sun Seeker- Part 7

“Jes? Are you awake?”

Jes wanted to summon a snort for Hash, but that was too much emotion right now. She sat on the bed, in much the same position they'd left her in last, and soaked up the silence and dark of the room. The sun had fallen behind the horizon, and with it, her new vision was dimmed to almost nothing. There were little wisps and glimmers, but otherwise she was as blind as anyone else in this moment. It was a strange sort of comfort. A little bit of normal.

She heard Hash shuffle further into the room.

“How are you holding up?”

She drew a deep breath. “When I was little, I used to hear the stars singing, and I'd tell Cicera and she'd smile kind of sad. But if anyone asked her about it, she'd just tell them I was being 'fanciful,' playing make-believe. She never told me to stop talking about it, of course. She wasn't like that. But eventually even I started to believe it was made up.”

The bed dipped a little as Hash sat down, his thick shoulder warm where it met hers. A little clarity came to her vision, a light coming from Hash, a borrowed sight from his presence. She resisted the urge to shift away.

“She always loved your Star songs,” He said quietly. “She tried to write them down once, but there weren't words really, and the tunes... were more than could be defined on paper.”

The shared memory settled between them, Her dancing about the Telling Pot as Hash and Cicera sat in the shade, listening to her sing. Jes caught glimmers of Hash's point of view in that memory. Of watching beautiful, captivating Cicera as she stared entranced and lost at her little girl and feeling lost himself. Jes gave in and shifted away, breaking the connection and allowing the darkness to close in again.

“I had a... dream about her.” Jes frowned in the dark. “But I don't think it really was her.” Jes described everything. The whispering field, the glass city, the sickly sun. Her mother, too far away, but needing something.

Hash was quiet for a long time. “In the old tales, the ones you'd find in the archives, the stars had to break down their thoughts and words into ways we could understand. They would use pictures and... visions I guess, to get their point across.” He shrugged. “That's how Solem drew us to her. That's what the tales say, anyway. You'd have to ask a... well.”

Jes did manage a snort this time.

“... So... Artem.”

“Oh, is he still here?” She tried for nonchalance, but it felt a little bubble of helplessness instead.

“Yeah. Still.” Hash sounded either disconcerted or displeased. Maybe both.

“Have you talked to him?”

It was Hash's turn to snort. “He doesn't seem to care much for my company.”

He tried to say it casually, but there was a hard edge to him, a tension that ran through his shoulders. Jes shifted, not really sure what to say about that. Hash stirred himself out of whatever thoughts he was stuck in.

“He's pretty determined to talk to you though.”

Jes grunted.

“Of course,” Hash settled his back against the wall. “He has to get past Sehkma first. She's been scolding and grilling him all day. 'Who are you? What do you want with my Jesphyra? Eat some soup. Wash that dish. You're too skinny! Who feeds you?'” Hash imitated her tone well after all these years.

Jes turned toward him. “She made a Solari wash dishes?”

“Like a child caught with the last Starthistle cookie.”

Jes' snort developed into a helpless chuckle.

They were silent for a time. The curtains lifted gently in the breeze, and a glimmer of sight and sound drifted in with the motion. The cold starlight couldn't show her much, but it came with an echo of the presence. The presence of Solem, and all the other stars. Jes wanted to wrap her arms around her head to block it out.

“I don't think he's going to go away.” Hash sounded thoughtful and sad.

Jes sneered in the dark. “So I should go talk to him and put him out of his misery?”

“I don't give two turnips about his misery,” Hash growled, but seemed to catch himself. “But he may be able to help with yours. If he can help you understand your dream, or even just help you... cope, it will be enough. Then maybe we can move on and he can go back to whatever glass house he stepped out of.” Jes didn't respond, so he reached out a hand and touched her shoulder. Warmth and concern flowed into her, and a soft memory of a sweet little child curling up against his chest while Cicera stirred a Telling Pot nearby and her voice floated over them. She felt his love and strength wrap around her, not just for her mother, but for her too.

“I don't know why Solem has chosen you, Sundrop. I don't know what any of this means. But I will do what I can to help you. Even if it means putting up with the man stupid enough to refuse Cicera and you.”

Jes swallowed through all the emotions, his and her own, and took a deep breath.