Chapter Text
A philosopher once asked,
‘Are we human because we gaze at the stars,
or do we gaze at them because we are human?’
Pointless, really-
‘Do the stars gaze back?’
Now, that's a question.
“Nicolò, do not forgot to polish the chalices! Mass starts in an hour.”
The booming voice comes close to rattling the bedroom window frame, and Nicky rolls onto his back rubbing at his eyes. Thus, begins every Sunday he can remember. Father Bryan would wake him, he’d complete his chores, prepare the church, pass round the collection plate, bid the villagers farewell, tidy the church and repeat. And repeat, and repeat. And repeat again.
Not that Nicky isn’t grateful, he thinks fervently as he runs a polish cloth over the tops of the pews. He could have nothing, and he nearly did. Years ago, he’d been abandoned at the wall as a baby; no possessions, no note, no parents. Nobody in the world to claim him or want him. But Father Bryan had taken him in and with ceaseless Christian charity he had given him a home, an education and a family. Nicky will never be able to thank him enough, and every day he wishes he could somehow. But…
There’s still something missing. It’s selfish he knows, to want something more from his life when he has been given so much. Father Bryan used to tease him for the adventures he’d acted out as a boy in the church yard; swinging a stripped tree branch for his sword and dodging amongst the mossy headstones. But even as he’s grown, the impulse has never really faded. He wants to see the lands outside his village, to travel to all the places in his books. To walk through great cities rich with history, to explore the wilds of the world he’s only even seen in photos and paintings.
Then, on the day be became a man, Father Bryan had gifted him the means to do so. The only item left at the wall in his basket; a Babylon candle. Hold a place in your mind, any place – and light the candle. The entire world was suddenly at his very fingertips.
But years later, here he was. Still sweeping the church, still teaching Sunday school to the village children. He just… could not leave Father Bryan. Not yet. No matter how loudly adventure was calling to him. It would always be there, but his only family wouldn’t.
He was charging through the desert sandstorms of North Africa when his father’s voice once again dissolves the daydream. The service is nearing its end, and Father Bryan, ever the enthusiastic storyteller, pauses to spread his arms wide.
“That night the most glorious of stars appeared in the sky, to herald the arrival of the baby and to guide the-
“What happened to the star Father Bryan?” interrupts Annie Tompkins from the third row, waving her arm wildly in the air while her mother tries to wrestle her back into her seat.
Father Bryan chuckles. “It remained in the sky, my dear. Like most stars do. To watch over us all, and to show people the way.”
“Most stars?” her brow furrows suspiciously.
“Ah, well you see,” Father Bryan’s eyes are twinkling now. “Some have come to earth. When people need a little more help.” He winks at the gaping girl and turns back to the bible passage he was reading.
But the moment stays with Nicky long after the Sunday service finishes and well into the evening. As he moves about the kitchen preparing their dinner he turns to his father.
“What you said, about stars this morning? Was that-”
“True?” Father Bryan looks up from his notes, glasses perched on the end of his nose. “Well of course. Although one has not been seen for years now.”
“But stars can’t-”
“Fall? My boy of course they can. God’s gifts come in many forms, and none more holy or, more precious than a star. When I was a lad it was my dearest wish to see one, to have one. To have that magnificent symbol of hope in my humble church. To be able to give that kind of light to our parish.”
A sadness clouds his father’s eyes in that moment though, and he dips his head to stare at the table.
“Alas, you must be far more special than I my boy, to be bestowed the light of star. Far more special than I.”
Nicky reaches across the table immediately to squeeze his freckled hand. “There’s nobody more special to me,” he says, hoping his father will see the sincerity he finds so often in others.
The corners of Father Bryan’s lips lift immediately. “You are the only gift I needed Niccolò. The greatest gift from God.” He stands at the table and pulls Nicky to the wide kitchen window, pointing into the night. Stars shimmer in artful streaks and clusters in the inky blackness. “But imagine, my son. If we could gaze upon a star here in our very church. To hold that holy light in our own hands. To be blessed by the heavens in such a way.” He tweaks Nicky’s nose, an old gesture from his childhood that still makes him squirm and smile.
“Let an old man dream, huh.”
Later, when the village is quiet and still, Nicky sits on his bed staring back up into the stars. And for once he does not see snowy mountains, or the vivid rainforests of his future. He just sees those stars, reflected in his father’s eyes. How proud he would be. The joy it would bring him…
Rolling sideways, he makes his decision quickly.
He wrenches the candle up from under his bed, where it has been careful tucked away in an old blanket. Not giving himself time to second guess the choice, he strikes a match, says a quick prayer and lowers the flame.
*
Yusuf wakes up flat on his back – his back? – on a warm, hard surface.
What in the-
He rolls sideways with a groan. His vision is still swimming in front of him, everything is out of focus. But he can feel smooth rock under his hands and can feel the ache of his body down to his bones. My gods, what a feeling, he has never felt like this in all his existence, what-
He’s fallen.
He is torn for a moment between fierce, warring emotions. Stronger and more visceral than the way he’d felt things before. The excitement dances under his skin - he has fallen – he is really down on earth, chosen in a way so few are. The earth he has watched for eons is now under his very hands. Then the fear bubbles up to swallow the joy. No one has told him what to do, what he was supposed to-
Yusuf tips his head back with a soft cry, the physical noise startling him. How is he meant to get back?
He struggles to his feet only to come tumbling back down immediately, losing his tentative footing on a loose rock. It takes him three more attempts before he can walk carefully around the base of the crater. Suddenly he’s a lot more appreciative of the efforts of children on earth he has watched learn to walk in his lifetime – it is not easy. He looks up from the ground, a laugh falling from his lips in his triumph before there’s a blinding flash of white light, and something strikes him hard in the chest.
Yusuf’s feet leave the floor and he’s once again slammed flat on his back. Except now he is blanketed by a heavy, wriggling human. The man pulls back and blinks at him owlishly for a moment in the silence. Then he animates abruptly and Yusuf flinches, trying to reach up to cover his ears.
“I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” The man’s eyes move quickly over Yusuf’s upper body, and a hand reaches out to his face.
Yusuf batts the hand away with the arm that isn’t pinned to his side by the stranger’s knee “No, I’m not alright- would you get off me?”
The man scrambles backwards obediently and stands up. He reaches a hesitant hand back towards Yusuf though, face pale and concerned. Yusuf sighs and takes it, allowing himself to be pulled to his unsteady feet.
The man steps away from him and begins looking around the crater with wide eyes. “My god, it really worked,” he mutters in what seems like disbelief. He then starts pacing urgently, studying the ground. Yusuf is rubbing at the side of his neck and contemplating just lying down and pretending it’s all a dream when the man pops back up in front of him, eyes wild.
Yusuf rears back. “Jesus, what?”
“I’m sorry to bother you again,” he says earnestly, “but have you seen a fallen star by chance?”
His own laughter is dry and irritated. He is sore, cold, confused to all hell and not in the mood.
“You’re a funny guy. Really.”
“No, no – see it must be here somewhere, we’re in a crater. It must have fallen-,”
“Yes, it did fall here. Over there to be exact.” He points to where he had woken up. “It was minding its own business, watching a nice family of whales migrating north in the Atlantic. Then it was wrenched out of the sky without warning and launched down here. With no explanation or instructions mind you!” The volume of his voice is increasing but it turns out he has very little control over this. “Then right here, is where it was hit by a magical, flying moron.”
The man blinks silently, while Yusuf’s chest heaves with irritation. Then his jaw drops.
“You? You’re…you’re the star?” his arm extends again seemingly without realising, but now Yusuf swats his hand away. “But you’re…”
“I’m what?” Yusuf’s eyes narrow dangerously.
“I just wasn’t expecting- I mean I,” the man appears lost for words. “You’re a person.”
“Observant aren’t you.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just,” he pauses, and a shy smile splits his face. “I’m Niccolò. But you can call me Nicky. Wow, it’s an honour to meet you.”
Nope. No. Yusuf would not find this fool endearing.
Niccolò is a tall man, almost as tall as himself. A messy mop of brown hair that curls around the nape of his neck and falls into his eyes. Yusuf sighs deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Yusuf ibn Ibrahim ibn Muhammad ibn al-Kaysani.”
Nicky’s face starts to work furiously. He repeats it under his breath three times with his brow furrowed in concentration before Yusuf takes pity.
“Yusuf is fine.”
“Okay. Yusuf.” He smiles again.
“I would say it’s nice to meet you, but it’s been a bad day. You know, falling and all.” Yusuf gestures upwards touchily.
“Yeah, sorry about that, like I said I didn’t know you would be – you!” Nicky says breathlessly, gesticulating wildly at him again. “But this will make the journey a little less lonely.”
“Wait, what?”
But Nicky is already beginning the climb up the side of the crater. He glances back over his shoulder and calls back “You coming?”
“No, I’m not coming, why would I – I need to- Nicky!” Yusuf swears under his breath, and he’s learned some good ones over the years, and drags himself up after him. Minutes later he slumps over the lip, panting into the damp grass. “Now, wait. What journey? What did you do?”
Nicky turns on the spot where he was clearly strolling away. Showing no signs of exertion at all, Yusuf notes with contempt. Confusion lines Nicky’s face for a moment before he reaches into his jacket pocket.
“Oh this! I used this to get you.”
A Babylon candle. Yusuf could cry with relief. Thank the stars, he can get home. Wait-
“To get me? What do you mean to get me? The candle takes you somewhere, it doesn’t bring you someone else.” Yusuf’s pulling himself to his knees now. “What exactly did you think when you were holding the candle.”
“Take me to a star.”
Oh, this idiot. “You-,” he resists the temptation to thump his head against the ground. Or to push Nicky back into the crater. “‘Take me to a star’? You’re lucky you weren’t sucked out into space you complete imbecile. No wonder the magic dragged me down here, your idiotic alternative would have gotten you very, very dead!”
“Oh. Well this works fine. Come on, we need to go.” Nicky shrugs and turns again.
“Go where? No, this does not work fine. You just had me hauled out of the heavens and for what?”
“I’m going to give you to my father.”
Yusuf takes a very deep breath and crosses his legs under him. “I’m sorry, no. What?”
Nicky moves back towards him. “My father’s dream has always been to have a star. He’s always put other people’s needs first his entire life, never taken anything for himself. So, you’re my gift to him. He deserves it.”
“Oh, I’m a gift, am I? Want to stick a bow on my head, or am I supposed to sing and dance?”
“Well, no,” Nicky’s cheeks redden, and he runs a hand through his hair. “Just, shine…I guess?”
“Oh, just shine? Does it look like I’m doing much shining!” Yusuf’s shouting now. He’s tired and frustrated and this guy is pushing his last damn nerve. “I’m a person, not a thing! You can’t just-,”
“No, no I’m sorry. I’m saying all this wrong. I wasn’t expecting-” Nicky looks panicked and moves back to kneel before him. “Can I just…show you to my father? So, he can say he’s met a star.” He pulls the candle back between them. “I’m sorry. Please. Then I’ll give you this to go home.”
Yusuf pauses, eyes locked on the candle. “You would give me that?” He glances up at Nicky’s face. “It’s barely got one use left.”
Nicky’s expression shutters for a second and his shoulders sink. He’s chewing on his bottom lip with disappointment spreading across his face. Yusuf is ready for the rebuttal, but then Nicky sticks his hand back out firmly.
“I swear it. On my father’s life. Come back with me and meet him and I’ll give you the candle.”
Yusuf searches his face for a long moment, trying to find something he can trust. Nicky’s eyes are wide and solemn and frankly Yusuf doesn’t have options right now. He grasps the offered hand
“Alright. I’ll come with you.”
*
He regrets it almost immediately.
Nicky sets a punishing pace through the forest, and Yusuf’s exhaustion is mounting by the mile. He trips over another tree root, jarring his ankle again. It’s now throbbing every time he puts weight on it and a headache is beginning to pound behind his eyes. He limps silently to the side of the path and sits down with a thump. Nicky turns at the noise, and grimaces.
“No wait, why are you sitting down – we said we’d stop at the next village over for food and rest.”
“Well it looks like I’m stopping here doesn’t it?” Yusuf knows his voice was petulant, but he’s beyond caring. “It’s four o clock in the afternoon, I’m exhausted, and it’s not like I’ve had the time to build any stamina on these have I?” he motions at his legs and grips his ankle tight in his hand.
Nicky crouches down beside him and reaches out cautiously. “Can I see?”
Yusuf draws his hands back slowly and tucks them under his arms. “Fine.” Nicky’s fingers unlace the boot and he cradles the swollen joint in his palm, his touch gentle but sure.
“Did you fall?” he asks softly, eyes still fixed on Yusuf’s ankle.
“Would you have noticed?”
Nicky’s face falls and Yusuf almost wants to take the words back. Almost.
“I’m sorry,” Nicky says. “I’ve just never really left my father alone before, and I didn’t tell him I was going. He’ll be worried.” He rolls the ankle slowly in his hand, stilling when Yusuf flinches. “We’ll need to wrap it, and it should be salved.” He peers though a gap in the trees, before turning back to Yusuf.
“You stay here and try to sleep. I’ll go ahead to the village and get the supplies and some food. Does that sound okay?”
Yusuf slumps back against the damp tree trunk and closes his eyes. “Yes, thank you.”
Nicky’s hand ghosts over his knee. “I’m sorry, again. I shouldn’t have been pushing you so hard.”
Yusuf lets the words sit for a moment before he covers Nicky’s hand with his own. “It’s alright. You just want to get home. I can understand that.”
The pained expression flashes quickly back over Nicky’s face but is gone before Yusuf can open his mouth. Pulling his hand back, he stands. “Just stay here okay. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
With that Nicky turns and jogs into the trees, and Yusuf curls onto his side to sleep. It feels as though his eyes have barely closed before he’s jerking awake. A cloaked woman is standing before him, tall and slim shouldered in the dusk. Dusk, it was getting dark – he must have slept. He glances around quickly but Nicky is nowhere to be seen.
“Did you hear me young man?” The woman’s voice is high and strong.
“Excuse me?”
“I said you shouldn’t be sitting out here in the dark, a storm’s about to roll in.”
“Oh.” Yusuf looks up through the trees. “I won’t be, my… friend is coming.”
“Really, you must come with me I insist. You’ll catch your death.” She beckons him up in a commanding sort of way. “I have an inn not two miles from here, I can offer you a room for the night; food and drink, with plenty of water for a hot bath. Come now.”
Yusuf stands quickly, but his ankle crumples under him. The woman swoops in towards him and lodges herself under an arm. “Come now dear, let’s get you out of the cold.”
“But, my friend-”
“Will know where to find you.”
The clouds above crack ominously as Yusuf allows her to lead him to the carriage. As the door closes on him the rain starts sheeting down upon the roof. Maybe Nicky has taken shelter in the village, he thinks, bristling slightly at the thought. Either way he’ll just have to find him tomorrow. He tries to smile at the woman across from him as she pulls down her hood. Thick golden tresses are piled neatly on the crown of her head and her eyes are an icy shade of blue.
Eyes that don’t really seem leave him until he is stood dripping onto a rug in an inn he could have sworn hadn’t been there when they entered the forest. She bends over the fireplace for a moment, then steps sideways to reveal a boiling cauldron of water.
“How do you like your bath?”
“I really have no idea, sorry.” Yusuf’s teeth were starting to chatter. “Thank you so much for your kindness though. I really am grateful.”
“Nonsense. Now you get yourself out of those wet clothes and I’ll fetch some oils to see what we can do about that ankle. Just hop in when you’re ready.” She had been circling round to the large copper tub while she spoke and as she steps past it steam starts to rise from the surface, amid clumps of soap bubbles. Gods, Yusuf must be more tired than he thought.
As the door clicks shut, he peels himself out of his wet clothes and lowers himself into the water. He wouldn’t be surprised if the groan is heard all the way down in the yard, it is blissful. He sets about working the grim from his skin with a bar of fragrant cedar soap, suddenly hopelessly grateful for the creature comforts of humanity. A soft knock at the door reveals the innkeeper again, gliding back into the room with vials in her hands.
“Here,” she hums, emptying the bottles into the water. She swirls the surface delicately with the long nail of her little finger. “Now how’s that ankle.”
“It’s-,” Yusuf presses his foot against the end of the tub, increasing the pressure. He laughs when he feels nothing but pleasant tingles through the joint. “It’s much better, thank you. That’s marvellous!”
She smiles. “Of course, dear. Now rest. You’re already looking much better. Practically glowing”
Yusuf sinks back into the water and closes his eyes. The rain is still lashing against the windowpane furiously and he hopes Nicky really is in the village. Of course he is, why wouldn’t he be? He pushes the worry aside and lets the warmth seep into him. Sleep is just beginning to take him when someone starts pounding on the door to the inn, bellowing themselves hoarse. Through the numerous closed doors, the one word he can make out is fire. When he slides into the entrance on wet feet the innkeeper is swirling out the front door, hands raised towards the barn. He quickly turns back to the rooms to fetch some empty pots to fill and stops short at the scene of Nicky forcing himself through a downstairs window, soaked to the skin and eyes wild with panic. He catches sight of him at he hits the floor.
“Yusuf!” Nicky skids towards him and grasps his arms. “Gods, you’re okay. Are you okay?”
“Of course I am,” he replies in surprise. Nicky’s hands are tight on his arms but Yusuf grips his wrists, relived he’s made it out of the weather. “Except the barn’s on fire, we need to help-,”
Nicky shakes his head wildly, water droplets flying. “No that was me, come on we need to go.” Nicky starts tugging him backwards.
“Wait, what do you mean that was you? You set the barn on fire?” Yusuf’s eyeing him incredulously now. “What’s going on?”
“The innkeeper’s a witch!” Nicky practically shouts.
Yusuf freezes in his arms. “The innkeeper’s not a witch.” he says firmly. “She ran me a bath.”
Nicky shakes his head in obvious frustration and Yusuf is starting to feel the same way.
“No, you don’t understand! I had a dream, when I feel asleep in the forest, and-,”
“Wait, you went back to the forest? Why? The weather-”
“To look for you! That’s not the point!” Nicky is near shouting again. “I had a dream and I heard the stars, they were talking to me. They told me the last time a star fell to earth was-”
“Four hundred years ago,” Yusuf says and his eyes widen. “They really spoke to you?”
“Yes, and they told me that last time she was captured by witches who treated her kindly and made her happy so that when she was shining again and her heart was full, they could cut it out.” The last words leave Nicky’s throat in a hoarse rush, and he keeps tugging at Yusuf desperately. “That’s who she is, that’s what she’s doing, we need to-,”
“Leaving?” a cold voice asks from the front door. Yusuf turns to face her, but Nicky is already stepping in front of him. The gentle stranger is gone, replaced with sharp edges and a sickening grin. She’s almost laughing.
“We are. We’re going.” Nicky’s voice is firm, but his eyes are darting towards the exits.
“No, I don’t think so child.” The response is called across the room, echoing in the vaulted beams.
“Move.” Nicky whispers out the side of his mouth and shoves him sideways. Yusuf runs at the far door with Nicky at his back, but rears backwards with a yell as the doorway bursts into fierce emerald flames, biting and spiting at them. The witch is advancing on them now, a hand outstretched. A long, jagged shard glittering in her hand.
“Down!” Yusuf cries, as the fire leaps up the posts beside them, cracking as it spreads. Nicky is clutching his hand tightly and trying to keep himself facing the witch. They’re cornered now and backwards is the only way they can go. Yusuf doesn’t let go of his fingers as she stalks towards them.
“The burning heart of a star at peace is so much sweeter than your frightened one,” she says softly, the flames winding around her. “Even so, better than no heart at all.”
She’s ten feet from them now, knife rising into the air. Her expression is unnervingly calm, like a hawk; serene in the confidence of the kill. Nicky turns to him, mouth brushing his ear as the flames roar around them. “Yusuf, hold me tight and think of home.”
Yusuf loops an arm around Nicky’s chest as he swings sideways into the flames with his hand outstretched. There’s a blinding flash, a swoop in his stomach and the blade comes whistling down.