Stars ― Kaz Brekker

00. the allure of childhood ignorance

EVERYONE WAS A CHILD ONCE. Even the Saints, with their grand adventures and grander deaths, were once held as newborns, cradled in some guardian's arms. Everyone came into the world screaming, crying, already mourning the safety of the womb before they ever understood the true terror that awaited them if they made one wrong move—or even if they didn't. 

Some childhoods were full of as much sorrow as life after it; others were boring but safe; and others still were happy and content, like something out of a storybook. 

That was the childhood both Estera Moers and Kaz Rietvold knew, until it was gone far quicker than was right.

"You can't catch me!" the little girl shouts. The naïve arrogance of childhood had taken hold long ago, and has yet to relinquish its grip, so she twirls around carelessly, trying to catch a glimpse of the boy who has yet to catch up to her. 

She doesn't see him at the bottom of the hill, but before she can wonder if she's truly gotten that far ahead of him, a body tackles her, knocking her to the ground. She squeals in half-surprise and half-laughter. The grass is gentle enough for the fall not to hurt too much.

For a moment, the girl and the boy are all elbows and feet, kicking and shoving until they erupt into spiels of uncontrollable laughter, the sound all but lost in the wind as it rattles the apple trees around them. Some of the white buds growing from the branches are torn away in the wind, falling like snowflakes onto the children, catching in the girl's curls and settling on the boy's collar. 

"How did you catch up so fast?" Estera asks, catching her breath as she pushes herself back into a sitting position. She closes her eyes as the wind blows her dark hair back, curls hitting her face and clinging to the light sheen of sweat on her forehead, but she doesn't care. She loves the wind too much to be angry with its consequences. 

"I found a shortcut," Kaz tells her. He flops down into the grass with all the grace of a newborn deer. 

"You cheated!" Estera accuses, glaring at her friend, who can't see it with his eyes closed. To get her annoyance across, she jabs him in the side, making him wince and try to smack her retreating hand in retaliation. 

"That's not cheating!" he defends himself. 

Estera rolls her eyes. "Cheater," she insists. 

Kaz opens his eyes only to roll them back at her. "Whatever. I still caught you." 

Estera shakes her head, but decides not to protest further. It's too beautiful a day to argue with her best friend, and even if it wasn't, she'd forget the purpose of the argument in a few minutes. Childish minds are like that. 

The sun's high in the sky, bathing them in its spring warmth. Her mother will be calling them for lunch soon. Estera hopes she'll make the sweet rolls she and Kaz both love. If not, Estera wonders if she and Kaz can strongarm his mother into making them tomorrow (and by strongarm, she means plead with their patented beggar eyes, as Estera's father calls them). 

The Moers and Rietvolds have been friends since before Estera and Kaz were even born. A midwife by trade, Irsia Moers had helped Marit Rietvold through a difficult pregnancy, resulting in a healthy baby Jordie and a lifelong friendship strengthened by their proximity. Years later, when Estera's own birth came in the midst of a summer storm that kept her father from sailing back home from the harbors, Marit returned the favor and ensured Estera was born without any complications. 

Logically, it's their closeness in age and proximity in location that shapes Estera and Kaz's childhood friendship, but their mothers swear they'll be married by eighteen. Like Baia and Duli, Estera's mother calls them, recalling a tale she's told Estera time and time again. Fated by Sankta Maradi.