The caves behind the dazzling waterfalls had always been Astraeus’ haunt, a safe place to hide from the burning light of the sun, but they had become his prison. The whole of Beqanna had shifted, and with that the entrance closed up and Astraeus found himself in perpetual darkness, alone, only the luminescence from his own coat with which to see.
At first he watched the shifting of constellations on his own body to keep track of time, trying and failing to find a way out of his stony prison, eating the moss that trickled down from the caves’ ceilings. Soon though he lost track, who knew if it had been months, years, decades. He walked stiffly through the underbelly of the land, feeling age creep up on him. Sometimes he would whisper his own name, as if to keep a hold on his identity, but things inevitably slipped away. Still, the healing waters of the Falls remained at the back of his mind, the memory of the soft smash of water on water filling his head.
Then, one day, something changed. The caves were lighter, a light that prickled at Astraeus’ skin, made him squint. Still, as much as this light punished him he rushed to find its source, and all of a sudden, there he was, on a bare hillside. He wanted to whinny with joy, but his vocal chords were dry, scratchy. Before any further thought of celebration though, his prickling skin had moved to burning, that long-ago scent of burning hair, burning skin filled his nostrils, streaked fire across his body.
He ran.
He had skirted the edge of a great forest, seeking solace from the cruel sun in the trees’ shadows. And then, unbearably slowly, night had fallen, and there, glistening in the distance, Astraeus saw the languid moonlit rippling of water. He trotted toward it, his limbs already seizing up from being so long unused, from the first clinches of old age. Carefully he slid down the bank into the water’s cool clutches, submersing his skin that still felt on fire. The constellations on his coat glimmered and twinkled from under the surface as if communing with the stars above that they mirrored. Astraeus too looked to the night sky, soundless tears streaming down his face and falling drip-drop softly into the water. Tears for his treasured night sky, tears for years lost, tears for his treasured Falls which he knew in his bones were no longer here, in this unfamiliar landscape.
At first he watched the shifting of constellations on his own body to keep track of time, trying and failing to find a way out of his stony prison, eating the moss that trickled down from the caves’ ceilings. Soon though he lost track, who knew if it had been months, years, decades. He walked stiffly through the underbelly of the land, feeling age creep up on him. Sometimes he would whisper his own name, as if to keep a hold on his identity, but things inevitably slipped away. Still, the healing waters of the Falls remained at the back of his mind, the memory of the soft smash of water on water filling his head.
Then, one day, something changed. The caves were lighter, a light that prickled at Astraeus’ skin, made him squint. Still, as much as this light punished him he rushed to find its source, and all of a sudden, there he was, on a bare hillside. He wanted to whinny with joy, but his vocal chords were dry, scratchy. Before any further thought of celebration though, his prickling skin had moved to burning, that long-ago scent of burning hair, burning skin filled his nostrils, streaked fire across his body.
He ran.
He had skirted the edge of a great forest, seeking solace from the cruel sun in the trees’ shadows. And then, unbearably slowly, night had fallen, and there, glistening in the distance, Astraeus saw the languid moonlit rippling of water. He trotted toward it, his limbs already seizing up from being so long unused, from the first clinches of old age. Carefully he slid down the bank into the water’s cool clutches, submersing his skin that still felt on fire. The constellations on his coat glimmered and twinkled from under the surface as if communing with the stars above that they mirrored. Astraeus too looked to the night sky, soundless tears streaming down his face and falling drip-drop softly into the water. Tears for his treasured night sky, tears for years lost, tears for his treasured Falls which he knew in his bones were no longer here, in this unfamiliar landscape.
ASTRÆUS