Sovereign of Stars

6.

JAY

Vito

Maius

The midday sun would be Jay's enemy for the day, it seemed. No matter how many times he dabbed at his forehead with his kerchief or refilled his flask of water, the heat was unrelenting—just as it always was this time of year in the Pacian Valley. Jay might have loved his home, but he hated the heat.

Jay shifted in his reading nook, trying to get some relief. It was one of the few shady areas in his part of Vito that wasn't drastically far from a cistern of water, which also made it the perfect place to relax on slow days like this one. Whenever Katso was out for the day, Jay could read in peace and watch for any customers in the weary old shopkeeper's place. On a sweltering day like this, he doubted anyone would make the trip to the little bookstore, but he'd rather prove that then be the reason why Katso lost business.

Taking another swing from his flask of water, Jay got back into his book. It was the third one he'd gone through this week—another epic in the tales of Fierro, one of Jay's favorite gods. He'd probably read the saga a million times, but this installment was always his favorite—the tale of how Fierro organized the gods to destroy Oriana, the wicked queen. The god of war would succeed in assembling the Perian Pantheon, destroying the Crownless One before her taste for blood got too strong.

Jay's eyes flew across the page, taking in every word as if he'd never read them before. The familiarity of the story sent ripples of excitement throughout his soul, his heart racing as the story began to pick up momentum. He could practically see Fierro take his stance amongst the gods, in his suit of armor—

A clattering noise jolted Jay from his focus. He jumped, looking up and surveying the shop. From his reading nook, he could see the whole expanse of the hexagonal bookshop—the shelves lining the walls like honeycombs, the crooked front door with its windchimes, the marketplace beyond the dusty windows. Sunlight filtered in through the slats in the door and the roof—something that Jay inevitably would have to fix before the rainy season approached—but even with the light, Jay couldn't see anything out of the ordinary.

"Strange," Jay muttered to himself. He cast another peculiar glance around the room, and then returned to his book.

Jay found peace in books. He always had, since he was a small child. His family didn't have access to them during his childhood—they didn't have access to a lot when they were nomads, always moving from one oasis to the next. But whenever they did settle for a short period of time, Jay's mother would tell him the stories of the gods.

She'd tell him the story of Lucida, the Sun Queen, and how her grace and strength united the warring heavens; of noble Petra, the Protectress of Heroes, on her throne of roses in the mountains; and of Fierro, the first great general of the Legion, and how his fortitude earned him a place in the pantheon. Those stories were more than just stories to Jay, they were truths. Histories, even, from a time long ago.

The memories of his mother's lilting voice always put a smile on Jay's face and another scar down his heart. Those days were long gone now, they had been for quite some time. Those happy, wandering days with the rest of his tribe had been before the rockslide that brought Jay to Vito, in search of purpose and in search of someplace he could call home.

Jay's heart panged at the thought, and he shook his head as if to rattle his heart back into its proper beat. Enough of that, you're lucky to be alive.

Jay got back to his book, although he somehow found it harder to lose himself in the story. It always was difficult getting back into the rhythm of things, of this new life, whenever he caught himself remembering. But he had to focus, or risk losing himself to the daemons inside his head.