When a Stars Teardrops Become Jewels: Eclipsed Garden

| 5 - 1 | Gifts

In the morning, before dawn had risen, Orion sent Alta back to his own room to freshen up. A room with stone walls and only one circular window, barely large enough to fit a singular fist through to give air to the otherwise suffocating space. In the back left was his bed, covered in disheveled winter blankets from a few nights prior. Instead of fixing them, Alta instead went to the wash basin in the opposite corner. He tugged off his tunic and his shirt, tossing both onto the floor beside the bed. 

Pulling off the damp rag that was hanging on the edge of the bronze bowl, he dunked it into the bowl. After wringing the rag out, he wiped his arms with it, then his neck. He washed his chest and his abdomen and replaced the rag onto the bowl. He ran a hand over his torso, his fingers feeling the smooth bumps of his rib cage. 

Arching his back, Alta leaned his face over the bowl and cupped the cold water in the palms of his hands. He splashed the water against his face, hopeful it might wake him up from the night before.

Each water droplet that fell off his chin back into the bowl recalled a memory from what had only happened mere hours prior. The sudden downpour. The dance beneath the stars. The blood mixed in with the mud.

The tear that was not a tear but had to be. 

Alta straightened his back and looked up at the warped metal plate attached to the basin. Unable to see himself in the shadows, he turned and took the two steps to get to his desk. Grabbing the candlestick that was lit and moving it closer to the wash basin. The flame bent backwards at the sudden movement, only standing still after Alta had placed it back on a flat surface. Looking into the mirror once more with candlelight, he was able to see his reflection a little better. 

His hair was too dark to see even with the addition of the candle, but his skin glowed like liquid caramel amidst the candlelight. Alta ran a hand up and down his jawline, feeling for a sign of stubble, finding nothing except smooth skin. He sighed through his nose. Someday. 

Alta reached his hand subconsciously to the shelf next to the candlestick where his eye medicine would normally rest. He turned his head to find the medicine, remembering only after searching his shelf and the floor that Master Orion had said he would not need it anymore. It felt strange, not having it nearby after using it for so many years. Leaning forward he scrutinized his eyes in the bronze mirror. 

The longer he held his stare, the more he felt like something was different. 

His usual grey, dark as storm clouds, seemed brightened. Almost silver. 

Like the- He shook the thought out of his head before it even became an idea. He could almost hear his master's voice in the back of his head chastising him for having such fallible beliefs.

Alta turned away from the mirror and moved to his wardrobe. He pulled on a haggard blue tunic similar, if not identical to the one he had worn the day before. He put back on the only leather belt he had and added one of his satchels which held some daily tools he needed as an apprentice: a brush, a pen, small rolled up scrolls, and a couple sachets of fragrant herbs.  

Finished with what he came to do, Alta blew out the candle and left his room, shutting the door behind him. He returned to his master's study in short time, traversing down empty hallways while the rest of the apprentices were to sleep until the moon and sun traded places in the sky.

Alta entered his master's study, softly shutting the door behind him. A smell of dampness clung to the air of the room from the short rain the night before. Searching for the source, Alta saw that the window closest to his master's bed had been left open from the previous night. He moved to close it and cut off the muggy wind. At reaching the window he saw that the sun had already risen enough to light the world outside the window in pale morning sun. He heard the distant roar of voices and turned his head toward its direction. Although he was not able to see over the stone walls that surrounded the castle and its temple, he could unmistakably make out what, or rather who, the cheers were for. The prodigal crown prince, Prince Asterlos, had returned from hard-won battle for his Bonding Ceremony. Alta closed the window, closing out both the dampening air and the noise. He heard a small grunt from behind him.