Sheet of Flame

I’m not terribly keen on Fartown, but I’ve been known to cross the grassland every once in a while to check in on local news and the like. It was on one of these trips that I heard of the little girl who the locals said they had listened to singing every night down near the beach. My curiosity piqued, I decided to meet this girl.

I carefully made my way around the wall from the outpost, heading south towards the beach. I managed to take a seat on a dune near the seventeenth marc, just before Sunrifter was due to set. Right after it slowly crept down below the horizon and the stars began coming out, I started to hear a haunting yet enchanting tune from further down the beach. I remember each and every word as if they were branded onto my memory.

‘Though the stars may go up,
And some may come down,
Stars come and go
And so does life,
Gentle like the light,
From far off glowing essence.
But ever constant,
Burning bright
And always there
To guide you home.
Should you be lost
And without a friend,
In the darkness of the night,
Let the life of those before,
Come to you in need.
Do not weep for those
Who’ve gone but merely
Look up in the night sky
Sometime and see,
The new star just for them,
Their life and their smile
Placed with good company.
And though you may be sad,
And the day may yet drag on,
There always is the night,
And memories of those who’ve gone.’

After the song had finally ceased echoing in my heart and mind, I had the sense to look around for the girl. I glanced first right and then left down across the beach only to find her sitting directly in front of me upon a smaller dune overlooking the waves. With much effort to be silent I descended to her dune and stood a few paces behind her. At this point, I could tell she wasn’t much more than twelve or thirteen years of age and was a little astonished that such a voice belonged to her. Her clothing wasn’t much to speak of, a red cloth long ago stitched to resemble a dress of some sort that had since faded through constant wear. She also wore boots that were too big for her, a man’s if I had to guess, with a patch across the side of the right one. I could see from behind that she had long brown hair that curled across her back, and when I asked her name she turned and I saw light green eyes stare back at me.

“My name is of no real concern,” she said. “Your real question is about the song… I’ve noticed others listening to me before but not one has yet to come down and speak with me. You’re the first.” She said all this in a slightly bemused manner, as if unused to the slightest hint of attention. So I continued, and mentioned that I was indeed curious about the song and how she had come to learn it. She answered my question with a slight smile followed directly by, “To know the song, you have to know the meaning of the song. And to know the meaning of the song, you have to know me. So if you have the time… and the patience, I can explain to you exactly why I sing that song every night.” I shrugged my shoulders as if to explain I had nowhere else to be, and took a seat beside her. Watching her eyes, I noticed the small glint that meant she was diving deep into memory and prepared myself for whatever would come next.

“I live just outside the Fartown walls, over to the west inside of the tall grassland,” she began. “Though it wasn’t always just grassland. Years ago, or so my grandfather tells me, my family owned and operated a farm on that land. Growing food for sale at Branishor, as it was a bit safer in those days and people were in less need of walls.” She paused there, taking a break to lie down across the sand and look into the sky. I mimicked her actions and also lay back. “But walls these days are all we have I suppose. My earliest memory is of asking my grandfather why my parents had given me up. ‘They didn’t give you up,’ he said. ‘Your father was in the fields when the demons came, and died within minutes having only his hands to fight with. Your mother heard his screams and quickly locked you in a cupboard. You weren’t much more than a babe.’ I was still quite small when I asked this of him, so could only nod as he continued. ‘Your mother died… defending you. Her death kept your scent hidden from the demons.’” She paused again, this time because I believe she noticed my own eyes beginning to tear up, or because the memory was too painful… or both.

“He told me then… and I remember it well, that not everything leaves us forever. Your mother and father may be gone from this plane, but Cory knew what to do with them. He set them above you. To watch over you. To make sure you slept well at night and were out of harm’s way.’ He pointed over the brush and into the evening sky, where the Twin Stars appeared. ‘Those… the Twin Stars… They are your mother and father, smiling down at you every night.’ I was young and so looked on in awe.” She took another breath only to sigh heavily and pull her knees up, to sit dreamily gazing into the sky. “To me, that wasn’t just some story he told. That was the truth. He went on to tell me that Cory wouldn’t have kept them without a reason. ‘The reason,’ he said, ‘was to bring you into my life.’ I couldn’t argue with his smile.” It seemed to me, that each time she uttered the word ‘smile’ she remembered her grandfather’s. I could almost feel the soft love of that smile just from hearing her say it.

“The years passed, and whenever I felt alone I’d find the Twin Stars at night and be at peace. Even when I began thinking that perhaps Grandfather had just said what he did to comfort me. I still looked on at my mother and father every night. Sought their guidance and wisdom for decisions. Five long years I’ve done so…” A slight twinkle caught in my eye, and I just as quickly moved to be rid of the lone tear. “Grandfather got sick not too long ago, and became so weak that I was forced to feed him myself and watch over him, only able to see the stars through a glimpse out the window now and then, until he finally lapsed into a deep sleep. When he did wake, he said very little… but it was recent enough to know it by heart. ‘I know… that you’ve been unable to view the stars recently,’ he began with a cough, ‘But hear me out. It may have just been a story, but as the years have gone by the Twin Stars have come to symbolize everything your parents meant. Love, warmth, happiness. You.’ He drew in another breath with a wheeze before carrying on.”

I pulled my knees up to sit with her again, trying to gather my own thoughts on what I was hearing. Pain, and just a little fear could be heard. She sniffed slightly and continued; “The last thing he told me was ‘Never be afraid… look to the stars for comfort. I may not be here in body… but,’ and then he smiled for the last time, ‘My love for you is undying, granddaughter.’ With that, he passed away.” I could almost watch the event unfold in her mind, as if the entire situation were happening right before me. Him squeezing her hand tightly for one last time and suddenly becoming weaker and weaker until the grip was nonexistent. Tears forming in her eyes quickly, becoming large and rolling down her face before she even noticed. I looked up at the sky for a moment, glancing here and there as if looking for a new star, but saw none. I did, however, notice that she was crying again. It was very soft, and very quiet, but I heard it just the same.

I very hesitantly put an arm around her to try and offer what comfort I could, and she leaned into me as I held her. Very softly, and almost indescribably painfully, she murmured, “He taught me that song. Told me should I ever need comfort or be seeking guidance, to sing the song and I’d find solace someway and somehow. ‘Stars and song’ he said. ‘That’s all you really need.’ So I’ve stuck to that. I even made a promise at one point that no matter what, I’d always have my stars and that song. So now you know… now you know why I sing that song every night.” She looked to me and in that moment, I saw myself. I was just as lost and forlorn, without much hope of things getting better and with very little chance of it happening. So I nodded, to let her know I understood and appreciated the story, before I took off my cloak and placed it around her.

“Do you mind… helping me bury him?” She asked me at last, and I immediately agreed. She took my hand and began guiding me through the grasslands, more afraid that I would run away than get lost, in my opinion. We carefully made our way through the maze-like interior of the grasslands, and what looked like similar twists and turns to me seemed to be a map for her. That was when I got my first glimpse of the house.

A fence had once run across the boundaries, but what was still visible was almost as far gone as the rest. The little house that served as her home had fallen into disrepair during her grandfather’s sickness, and one side of the roof had already caved inwards while the grasslands began to reclaim the back half of the building. She quickly led me up the dilapidated pathway and I took very little time in studying my new surroundings, but from what I could see I surmised that it had been a long time indeed since she had gone anywhere but in the path I now followed. Even the floor in the house seemed brighter along our path, almost an imitation of the grasslands outside as the dust made a barrier she didn’t dare invade.

Finally we arrived at her grandfather’s bedchamber. He was curled up, almost appearing asleep, on the right side of the bed. She very silently bade me forward and I carefully pushed down on the old bed to get my arms underneath him. With a slight pull backwards, I lifted him from his deathbed and slowly made my way back outside the cottage, keeping to the set path laid out before me. It was only then that I noticed the two other tombstones.

There were no names upon either of them, as those who had buried them would never forget who exactly was buried there. I wrapped the poor man in his sheet from the house and laid him down beside the two markers while glancing about for something to dig with. I finally found a small storage shed, managed to pull a shovel from the weeds and set myself to the task of digging. She watched, all the while saying nothing and moving little from her post near the cottage wall. Silently she guarded the grave while the sky grew darker still.

Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. I placed the old man in his grave, deep enough so that the wildlife of the region would not find him but shallow enough to climb out of, before slowly going about the dreadful task of pulling dirt over him. Watching that last slip of bed sheet disappear was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, as I could hear the girl beginning to sob behind me. The finality of it all had suddenly hit her, and it was more than she could take. I then placed a small stone reverently at the head of his resting place. Not a match to the other two, but he would have liked it in my opinion. I sat down on the ground, sweaty from work and cold from the chill of night with dirt apparently growing up my arms. Oddly enough, I found myself humming the little song the girl had been singing on the beach what seemed like days ago. I hadn’t noticed, but she had come to rest at the foot of his grave with me, my cloak still wrapped around her in a tight embrace. No more tears welled up from her eyes, but that seemed even more lonesome. Something drew my gaze up into the sky again and I slowly found myself examining the Twin Stars. It seemed to me, and it may have only been me, that a small speck of light had found its way between them.