Starry Night

The dew had already collected when Therasia spread her blanket and sat down on the outskirts of Nightglade. The night was cold, but at least the air was crisp and refreshing instead of heavy and damp. Therasia shook her hair out of the tight bun it had been placed into, then gathered her bearings. The distant, foreign light still shone above her, but she was far enough for it not to bother her. This was the first time she’d taken a break ever since the invasion started. She wasn’t sure how the rest of the defense was supposed to go, but either way, her job was done.

It had been nerve-wracking — to enter the spaceship and to find the vault. She’d thought, honestly, that if anyway ever employed her to steal from planet-raiding aliens, they’d have asked her to steal the key, not break into the vault. She was good with small things like those, not with large-scale operations that meant someone had to rely on her. She wasn’t the best when it came to working in teams.

She was torn apart from her thoughts by a rustle in the bushes behind her. Therasia turned around, eyes narrowed, and then caught a glimpse of someone ducking down to hide. In the darkness, they might’ve even been able to get away with it — but their ears were red, with lightly colored specks on the top, and Therasia noticed them even in the low light.

“Oh come now,” she called out into the brush, with far more bravado than she felt. “I have nothing worth stealing if that’s what you want to do.”

Just in case, her hand went to the pocket of her jacket. Her fingers closed around the handle of the knife. Just in case.

“Huh?!” Someone scoffed from the bush. “You think I want to rob you? You’re the one who stole my good spot.”

Therasia chanced a quick look around herself. Behind her, the trees and the bushes. Around her — fields as far as the eye could seize. Or well, not that far — but far enough to feel lonely and isolated, which was exactly what she’d wanted.

“I see a lot of good spots here, don’t you think?” She asked in turn. And then, in some unsure, wavering way so uncharacteristic of herself, Therasia said: “You could sit with me, too?”

“Sure,” the person in the bush said without hesitation, and then he stepped forward.

Therasia was used to Nightgladers. She wasn’t surprised by their conduct, because she, too, was somewhat similar to them, and she’d be a fool if she was surprised by weapons and the like. Still, this man, a Lopilu, did not carry a blade with him, even though she’d half expected him to. No, there was a staff by his side, with a red gem and strange tilt to its metal crown, like it was bent out of shape by carelessness.

With a start, Therasia realized she’d seen that staff before.

“You’re the guy from the ship! You weren’t being stealthy at all!” She said as he sat down on the edge of her blanket, as far away from her as he could. He snorted a laugh out, then shrugged.

“I’m not known for stealth. Not my specialty,” he was so dismissive of it — so easy-going about it — that Therasia had half the mind to go off on him. But it wouldn’t be worth it, just because the thing was said and done, and she didn’t know him after all.

“Why’d you go then?” She asked, with a voice far more calm than she actually felt.

“Because no one else would,” he replied. “And you? You scared me half to death out there in the dark.”

“Yeah, because I was actually hiding instead of sliding down…”

“A hatch, it was a—”

“I don’t even know what you were doing up there,” she said, “And I got paid to do it, so I did. It was almost a bit more than I could chew.”

“—a hatch,” the man finished. “You’re here now, so it went well. I wouldn’t have tried if I knew you were there. There was no need for both of us to risk ourselves.”

Somebody out there — someone who was planning and had power to make decisions — was worried, though, and believed they needed several people out there. Therasia could understand that.

For a while, neither of them said anything. Therasia’s eyes were trained on the bright streak in the sky, the Arma Caeli’s beacon of occupation etched onto the landscape of their home. Around it, the sky twinkled with stars, unbothered as though nothing was changing. When she turned towards the Lopilu, she noticed that she wasn’t watching the alien ship. No, his gaze was fixed upwards, further way, but when she tried to follow it, she couldn’t really glean anything worth watching. Just the night sky, scarred by distant stars.

She wanted to say something to fill the moment, but it felt to her as though the moment in itself was complete. She didn’t know that guy and he didn’t know her, but there was something intimately familiar in the high-stress situation they shared, as though they’d gone to it together even though their encounter was a complete coincidence.

Then again, that was her. Maybe this other person didn’t feel like that at all.

At some point, he looked back down — first towards the looming Arma Caeli ships, and then towards the Nightglade skyline and then, finally, towards Therasia herself.

“I’m Riel,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Therasia,” she offered, and only then felt like they could sit together in peace, under the clear (if infested) sky, despite everything that was going on. “You too.”