The next day, Hirow slept until late afternoon. His eyes opened to the blinding light of the sun. Squinting and blocking the light with his forearm, he got up from bed. It felt odd going through his morning routine so late in the day, but he continued anyway. There wasn't much to do since completing the basic labor required of him before entering a trade. Additionally, since he hadn’t decided which trade to choose his day was left open.

He grasped the handle of his door and contemplated the options he had. His mind went back to the discovery last night. The urge to tell more people was insatiable, but he also knew that few others would believe him. However, one person came to mind.

Stepping out of his house, he walked through the dusty streets just as he had last night. Except now, they were full of people going about their daily endeavors. There had just been a bountiful harvest, and for the past few days, the village had been a hotspot for merchants. Hirow pushed through the crowded streets until he spotted a gap between two shops and darted into the alley. Sighing in relief, he calculated what path would take him to his destination with the least amount of people.

After trekking across the entire village, he finally saw it, the home of the person who would always trust him.

The house ahead was a shadow amongst everything else in the village. It was a simple hut that most people ignored. Most didn’t even know who dwelt in the hut, and those who did keep their distance. The old man living there seldom came out. When he did, his path was followed by whispers and rumors. Mothers would hide their children's eyes so they wouldn’t see his grotesquely disfigured body. The man would slowly make his way through the village, back bent, dragging his feet, and his right arm hanging limp at his side. Then, as quickly as he had ventured out, he would slink back into his hut.

During the entirety of the star festival, the man would sit in his hut crying and cursing the gods. His strange actions every year remained a mystery to all, even Hirow. The priests claimed to know why. They always did. They had thought he had disobeyed the church's rule and therefore been cursed by the gods. People had many theories as to why he did this, but most agreed with the priests.

Hirow walked up to the steps, carefully avoiding the splintering wood, and knocked on the rotting door. After knocking a grunt from inside came, and the door swung open. The fleshy skeleton standing in the doorway, had tufts of gray hair sticking every which way on the skin that tightly wrapped his bony skull.

The man made a motion with his left arm as he said in a scratchy voice, “Ah Hirow my boy come in, come in.”

The man turned back into the house, dragging his feet across the floor as he limped to the only chair. The house smelled of dust and dried blood. Hirow glanced over and saw bloody bandages that had turned dark brown lying in the corner.

The man saw him and said, “Oh yes, those over there, it started again.” He looked down at his right arm with regret in his eyes and sighed, “At this point, there won’t be much left.”

Hirow quickly averted his eyes from the lump of bandages and sat on the bench off to the side of the room. It had been a while since he had been here, and it had taken a turn for the worse. A few pots and pans lay around a small stone fireplace that held smoldering embers. Near the fire was a thin mat that was being used for a bed. The structure of the house wasn’t in better shape than anything inside. Letting in small streaks of light were holes dotting the wood walls that surrounded the room. The house was as much of a skeleton as the old man.

Haddrung was dying, and Hirow knew it, yet the old man would never admit it. He would like to go off without a single person knowing his passing, but Hirow would always know. Haddrung had been a good friend, one of the only ones who would listen.

Hirow had another friend, named Clement, but he was always too busy talking about himself or girls for Hirow to slip a single word into their “conversations.” The conversations between him and Haddrung left plenty of time for listening. They would each speak slowly and cling to every word the other said. This could be the last time he spoke to the old man, so he decided he would keep every word even if the silver strings of time tried to pull them away.

Haddrung looked up, furrowed his brow, and smiled wryly as he opened his mouth to speak.

“So you finally decided to give this old man a visit.”

“Sorry, I haven’t come recently. I’ve just been so busy with the recent harvest.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“There’s no need to apologize, you're here now,” Haddrung leaned back in his chair as he let out a sigh. “So, what did you want to tell me?”

“I made an amazing discovery last night,” Hirow said. “I was able to sneak into the observatory.”

“I hope you know you can get killed for that if those old men catch you.”

“Yes, yes, I know that,” waving his hands to get Haddrung to drop the topic, Hirow continued, “but tonight I was lucky. Not a single priest showed up. But onto what I came to tell you. There was a star in the sky that disappeared and then reappeared. Have you ever heard of something like that?”

“No, I haven’t,” Haddrung scratched the wiry hairs on his chin. “My father once studied the stars. He would make huge charts showing how they were positioned throughout the year.” His voice grew quieter, “But he was a fool.”

Ignoring the slight against Haddrung's father, Hirow eagerly responded, “Would you be willing to lend me those star charts? They would be of great value to my work.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”

Hirow frowned at the response, “Why not.”

“I burned them years ago.”

That didn’t seem like Haddrung at all, Hirow thought. “Why would you do that?”

Haddrung turned his gaze away, “It seems I have neglected to tell you something important. This one thing has been nagging at me for years, but I think it's time I told you.” He took a deep breath and spoke. “I believe light is an evil thing”

The words naturally flowed out of Haddrung’s mouth as if they had been repeated a thousand times.

Hirow was taken aback by his response. It felt confusing to be panicked by such a simple statement, yet that statement was the opposite of what had been ingrained into every villager by the priests. His mind tugged in all directions. Why would he say that? What person could ever come to that conclusion? Light was warm, Light was pure, Light gave life, Light gave sight, and Light was many things but certainly not evil. That was one truth, not even he questioned, one truth he knew for certain wasn’t a falsehood of the priests, and to attribute a word like evil to light didn’t make any sense. Haddrung, who he thought he knew so well, had said this, this jumble of words that seemed to be so wrong.

Out of his shock, he couldn’t utter a word against him.

“I’ve finally dared to say it,” Haddrung said with a sigh of relief. He went on without waiting for a response from Hirow. “Yes, this is the reason why the wicked tradition of the star festival must end. Light brings death. It causes the people of this village to fear me. The soft light of the stars is no different from the burning light of the sun; they both bring evils to this world, as my father showed me before the light took him too.”

Hirow regained some of his sensibility and responded, “I’m confused.”

“Of course, you would be confused,” Haddrung countered with a new fire in his eyes,” you’ve never been taught anything else, but my father was curious, more curious than you, and he saw past all of the wicked lies those priests told.” His voice got a little quieter as he continued, “To this day, I don’t understand why you people celebrate such an abomination. What has the light, the stars, ever done for you? Their ever-burning lights, continue burning till they burn your very soul.”

He took in another breath as if to start ranting again but didn’t. He looked down and then stared at Hirow, quietly waiting for a response. Hirow didn’t know what to say. Some of it made sense, but there were still plenty of gaps that made the old man seem insane. He knew the priests had lied at times, but he had been the one to come to this conclusion. Light wasn’t evil. Light was good. Light was… Unless he had fallen to the trickery of the priests, they were very deceptive. The whole of the village had been tricked by them. Why not him? He knew light held some power, and power could always corrupt, but what would this power corrupt other than the light itself? Light wasn’t a being, so it couldn’t be corruptible. He trusted Haddrung. He wanted to trust Haddrung, but he needed to ask one more question.

“I’m sorry to ask, but you said your father showed you this truth. What happened to him?”

Shaking Haddrung raised his head to look at Hirow. His smile turned to a frown. “I’m a fool for thinking you would understand. It seems I would have to tell you everything if you were to make any sense of what I mean,” he lamented.

Hirow leaned in, feeling more comfortable now that Haddrung had calmed down.

“My father was a kind man, always trying to better the lives of others through his simple inventions. He made people's lives easier, and they loved him for that. The priests were on favorable terms with him and allowed him to continue since he never interfered with their matters. Without end, he continued the pursuit he called progress and spread his inventions throughout the village. He never had much time for me, but I never loathed him for that. Every moment he spent with me was precious, and he knew that. He taught me his craft but never forced it on me. I was precious to him, and I knew that. I… I knew that.”

Tears streamed down Haddrung’s face as he finally realized he had let go of something. The barrier of anger had subsided, and he wept with the vulnerability of a child. Hirow kept quiet as he cried. He was interested in knowing the rest of the story, but he couldn’t bring himself to push Haddrung any further than he did today.

Hirow stood up and comforted Haddrung with a goodbye and thank you.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t ready. I was sure now was the time,” Haddrung consoled, “I hope you’ll listen tomorrow.”

Hirow took a step towards the door. He stopped and responded, “I will.”