Page 3 of The Starlight Savior

Chapter 2

The pounding on the shack’s door began before Saige could open her eyes. Lifting herself from the rickety bed, she felt every aching muscle bark in protest.

“Saige!” Judith shouted from the other side. “Are you awake yet?”

She let out a low groan and dragged herself across the room. Opening the door, she saw her caregiver standing with her arms crossed over a stained apron. Her gray hair was braided neatly down her back.

“Finally,” Judith breathed, “you missed a whole day.”

“What?” Saige blinked slowly. Beyond the foliage, the sun was ascending into the sky.

Judith slid past her, striding into the shack. “Did you have another…” She was unable to utter the words aloud.

“Outburst?” She finished for her. “Yes.” Her caregiver preferred to remain mostly in the dark surrounding Saige’s affliction.

“Mmm.” Judith nodded, gaze roaming across the small space. “You’ve made your quarters quite cozy, my dear.”

“Eight years in the making.”

Since she was twelve, Saige lived in the small shack hidden behind Judith’s cottage. Past the gardens, it was surrounded by a tangle of trees, bushes, and creeping vines. When the shutters were drawn, her frequent bursts of light rarely escaped the cracks in the doorframe. It became the perfect place to hide her and her ailment from the rest of Opela.

At first, she didn’t wish to live alone, especially so young. But saying no to Judith was often difficult. She had sacrificed so much taking Saige in, a stranger at her doorstep.

“They’re getting worse, aren’t they?” Judith murmured quietly. She sat upon the bed, smoothing the sweat soaked linens. Beside her sat an old wooden dresser she had gifted Saige, decorated with a vase of fresh wildflowers and dog-eared books.

“Yes,” Saige admitted, “they are. But…I’m figuring it out.”

Judith lowered her head. “I hope you know I try my best to support, but…I don’t know how you manage this. You’re getting older and…it has been too long.”

“I don’t know either, but you know I appreciate your kindness.”

They sat upon the bed, their hands resting between them. She itched to feel her caregiver’s touch, yet the risk of her burns outweighed any comfort.

“You must learn to control it, my dear,” Judith continued, “or at least suppress it. Don’t you tire of all this?”

How could one control something they didn’t understand? By the laws of Opela, Saige didn’t consider herself a magic-wielder. Magic was what grew plants from the ground. Healed wounds with ease. Summoned lightning in the sky and flames in open palms. Light in her veins and unbearable heat was far from useful or otherworldly. It was simply dangerous.

Yet when solitude shifted to loneliness, there was a part of her that desired such control. But there was no one in Brevil trustworthy enough to earnestly assist. Judith once tried her best, but was left speechless and afraid. It left her no other choice but to encourage ignorance and suppression.

“I have to get dressed,” Saige declared, rising from the bed, “missed a full day of work.”

Judith nodded. “Ah yes, that’s why I came. Lady Moore was spotted in the village square yesterday. You should expect her presence.”

“Of course.” She sighed. Her employers were rarely home, often spending their time in Yethor, the capital. Yet all of Denholm must’ve been summoned for news of rations and executions.

Tugging on a faded green dress, she secured the bodice tightly and laced up her boots. Judith’s thin fingers reached for Saige's hair, pooling the mess of black curls into her hands. She braided it down her back, tying it with a strip of leather at the bottom. For a moment, she leaned into the whispers of touch, tears pricking her eyes, until Judith’s hands retreated. A chill traveled down her neck.

“Want me to fix you a day meal? Cynth dropped off some fresh eggs before the soldiers take them for rations,” Judith asked, turning towards the makeshift kitchen. Rusted pots and pans lined the walls. The cupboards were overflowing with spices, canned fruits, and dried meats. A wood burning stove and small table had been transported as Saige aged. Coming back and forth from Judith’s cottage to the shack for meals became questionable over the years.

She shook her head. “You know I’m not hungry after…”

“Right, right.” Judith looked away as she shifted on her feet. “It truly does exhaust you.”

Emerging from her quarters, Saige ducked under tree limbs and stepped over brambles. Judith followed and picked up her wooden basket from the ground and turned towards her flower fields. “Good luck,” she called without looking back.

“Thanks,” Saige murmured as she walked to the main path.

Gnarled trees and stone cottages lined the quiet path traveling through the heart of Denholm. The late spring air was soft against her cheek. Birds sang from the treetops, basking in the sun. Most villagers were already absorbed in temple or their occupations. Occasionally, a soldier passed by, but she kept her eyes trained on the dirt ground.