The Twelve Stars

Chapter 2

Quentin was carried into the infirmary and placed on one of the medical beds down in the village square. By now, the moon had replaced the sun. The black of night touched the earth with only the light of the stars to guide us, save for the few candles that flickered alight throughout the windows of people's homes. The confrontation had put everyone in dull spirits, including Elder Harald who had been released on leave of the Empire. There were hushed voices being conversed among the villagers as we followed my uncle inside. Robyn and I walked ahead of the group. I found myself clutching onto my ring, anxious of what was to happen. Robyn saw my nervous gesture and took it upon herself to break the silence.

"What was that back there?" she asked me.

"What are you talking about?" I said in response.

"Oh, you know what I mean," Robyn huffed. To get my attention, she pushed in front of me, stopping me in my tracks. I was forced to look at her in the eyes. "I know what I heard. That boy called you a Wielder. But you can't be one. I would know-"

"Robyn, this isn't the time for-"

"So, it's true. You really are one of them?"

"My uncle is more important right now. This conversation can wait," I said. I put up my hand, about to touch her. Then I remembered my curse. Robyn noticed it too.

"For as long as I have known you, you have never once touched me. Whether it be by the hand, a reassuring gesture, a friendly embrace or..." Something dawned on her then. "Wait, has this to do with your gift?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I said.

"But Callyk-"

We had reached the med-bay before she could finish. I sent her a warning glare before entering the room. "Later," I said. I headed inside. Two medics were busy tending my uncle's wound. His shirt off, he rested on his stomach. The arrow now dislodged from the small of his back left him bloody and broken. "Is he alright?" I asked them. Robyn came in behind me. The assistant medic answered.

"He's in bad shape," she said. "But he will live." I was relieved. "Aren't you his nephew?" she asked, recognising me. The first medic placed a clean bandage over Quentin's wound.

"I am," I said. "And this is my friend. Can we stay here until he wakes up?"

"Of course," she said. "You're family after all." They finished cleaning up and left.

"Thank you," I told them on their way out.

She gave a small nod of her head. As they left, someone else came in. It was Elder Harald. He was the oldest man in the village with long grey hair and a full-grown beard and moustache. The age showed in the creases of his face and he had the eyes of a man who had seen many battles throughout the span of his long life. He wore a long woolen gown over a knee-length linen tunic and breeches with fur boots. A leather girdle clasped around his waist.

Apart from the Empire, it was Elder Harald who had the final say over us. While often overlooked by outsiders, our small village remained consistent to the democratic dynasty, striving to maintain peace and order amongst its people. Not unlike the Empire. His grey eyes went to my uncle and then rested on me, concern in them. "You've been through quiet an ordeal tonight. How are you fairing?" he asked me.

"Better than him," I answered. He stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"Have faith, Callyk. He will come through." Then he saw Robyn. "You displayed bravery of its highest form," he told her. "Stay with him, Robyn. He needs you." Robyn nodded in reply. Elder Harald returned a warm smile. "He's lucky to have you," he told me. I was grateful for his empathy. He left the small room.