Gallel's Heir

Chapter 1: Hallel's Star

Part 1

He will be born on a night of light and dark.
What a person sees that night is a window to his soul.
-Anath shen Sorrel Albandor of Yambisey

The figures in Canúden's algebra book blurred and his eyes stung. Muffled commotion echoed from the street, noises previously obscured by the concentration he had been giving to his homework. He glanced at the clock on the shadowed mantle, a relief to his eyes; squinting, he saw that the clock confirmed evening should be coming on. Eyebrow raised, he stared at the sitting room curtains, which glowed as they did when the sun peeped over the mountains after dawn.

"Canúden! Canúden! You've got to come out here!

It took a moment to realize it was his mother's voice from outside, and she sounded like she may have been running. His standing slammed the book shut and dropped the slate onto the floor. Peeking around the linen curtains above the desk, he saw his mother beckoning to him from beside the orangeberry hedge that bordered their yard. Everything glowed. His mother's auburn hair glimmered like a bonfire; oranges, reds and purples radiated from autumn trees along the street; orangeberries in the hedge shimmered like gold. Brightness obscured anything beyond his side of the street.

His mother's fingers gripped his arm as soon as he stepped outside.

"What's... going on, Ma?" he said.

"I have no idea! But look at those plants!"

The potatoes and carrots and flowers that he had spent all summer digging and tending seemed to have doubled in size, their greens and browns, purples and reds as vivid as the colored windows in Anath's sanctuary. Vines in the neighbor's garden matured and bloomed, while earlier in the afternoon they'd been sagging over the fence.

"Yeah, Ma," he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "I'm going to go see what all the noise is about." She followed him through the gate.

The chaos clarified. Screaming and noise vibrated the air, and people knocked past them as they made their way to the square. Neighbors' eyes darted wildly, and some screamed as though monsters chased them. A few stumbled along with arms outstretched, bumping into people, hedges and shops, as though finding their way in the dead of night. About half of the villagers he saw gazed up slack jawed and wide eyed as though they were in some kind of trance. Some pointed to the sky that should have been dusky, then whispered to friends in awe.

A girl strode through chaos, clutching an infant in a sling around her shoulder. The girl, probably four or five years older than Canúden, was skinny and had wavy dark hair that stuck out messily from a braid down her back. She glanced up at the sky as often as she glanced behind her, and when she looked ahead, her feet quickened. He knew everyone from Ocher and the surrounding forest; this girl was not from his village, or any village nearby. Maybe she was from the city, Vishall, that the villages surrounded. She disappeared into the whiteness down the street, towards the forest.

Out in the square, Canúden got a better view of the sky. The sun hung as a yellow half circle behind the Amethyst Mountains to the west, but everything brightened. The Amethyst ridges glowed nearly translucent against a swirling silvery-white dome of sky. His eyes stung and watered, but looking away proved difficult. Ma's mouth hung open, her lips contracted into an awed smile, her eyes scanning. She gripped his fingers.

In the east-south- eastern sky towards the Kanterol River and Vishall, an Object rose. Something that bright should have produced heat like summer, but the air felt comfortable as though he had just come out of a cold pool on a warm afternoon. While he squinted sharply to look at this object, it was possible to do so, even to know its shape and color. It wasn't exactly round, but six pointed, almost like it was trying to look like Galia's banner. It seemed to be made of living silver with sinuous rays pulsing, as if to music.