The Color of Stars

The Sky .. it speaks. It speaks in so many ways that a Haruspex could live out lifetimes and never hear it all ... or understand every language it uses. The Sky speaks to anyone who will listen .. though most do not take the time to hear it. Some do not even believe in it .. or speak of the Sky in an offhand way that denotes knowledge but not a personal relationship. Others feign a deep reverence that goes no deeper than the first three layers of their skin.

Give me ten ehn with that person. Between that point and four more layers I can teach them mysteries about the Sky they never dreamed possible .. I can have them singing .. praying ... with a fervor and passion that blossoms a deep belief down into their core. I can sow life changing seeds .. implanting down deep ... in just a few moments.

They say a man is destined to reap what he sows. I wonder which part of that I am fated to pluck from the vines of life. So far I have not seen any plump ripe fruit falling into my palm. Not even the rotting splitting flesh of a Central Fire aged peach .. sickeningly sweet with poison. So far ... there is nothing. So far the only place the Sky speaks to me is in my dreams. So far .. my waking moments are blessed with silence.

I had been contemplating the Sky for some time .. while sitting on the steps of the supply wagon. The vast silence of it. Muted beauty that rests there and I feel I have no connection to. No connection save messages and visuals sent on prophetic lips in an effort to get my attention. So far I do not appreciate what the Sky has to say to me. The passive aggressiveness of it all palls for it seems to me to be more about my behavioral management than to be about a conversation. I am not so easily managed behaviorally. I think we have established that rather well.

People came and went .. before Seveya and I started any sort of actual conversation. We spoke of Cana. How tired she was lately .. how sleepless ... she appeared. Seveya had noticed .. I told her I was ... working on it. She told me that Cana was in good hands .. and I asked her how she knew that. I wanted to know if it was one of those over used and yet well served platitudes that please and sate the masses but tend to be something I easily and readily regurgitate. I could feel the bile at the back of my teeth as I asked her .. premature ejaculation on my part. Seveya had a reason for what she said to me .. I swallowed the distaste and ate the compliment for what it was. Seveya has fewer platitudes gracing her tongue .. fewer than most.

I was impressed with how much she could learn from so little. She watches .. people. She watches and learns. Perhaps that is why she is so quiet all the time. I thought for a while she was getting lost in her own head .. but now I begin to wonder if she is simply .. watching.

I asked her if she liked people. Figuring she had a good idea if she did or not considering the time she put into watching them. She said she did like them .. gave me a odd curious sort of glance and then asked me if I did ... like them. I told her I did .. sometimes. Sometimes I did not find so much to like at all. I told her it was odd for a woman .. like her ... to watch people so closely. She asked me if I had not observed so many women doing so. I told her women .. to me ... seemed for the most part busy being people. They seem to enjoy the act of sensations .. feeling and giving ... not always perceptive of people not in their direct line of focus. Those that were .. usually lacked some sort of skill. They were missing some link that was needed to be part of the pack ... and that left them watching and learning in a way that was different.

This was of course my own one sided view .. no one ... including myself ... could ever say I had any kind of real understanding of women.

I told Seveya I did not see on the surface what skill she might lack that caused her to be such a watcher. So she told me. She told me one of the skills she lacked was a guard on her tongue and she spoke random things as a child that made people uncomfortable. That people kept a distance from her .. she was a problem they did not have the time to solve. I told her I was surprised they did not make her a Spex .. just for that.

She said her uncle had told her she was more like her mother in that regard. I asked her what she meant and she said .. she saw things differently ... not like a Spex. I asked her again what that meant more specifically but she told me it was a secret.

huh

But then she told me that despite the fact she would not tell me .. she would show me. I asked her when .. she said after the Love Wars ... I asked her .... what if I am dead?

I think the question took her back some .. but something spoke for her even as her thought process took a step back and she stated that .. I would be there. That I would return. Her naivety was not as attractive to me as her plain speaking .. but perhaps that is the gift of women ... to speak their faith into existence to combat a man's poisoned dose of reality. Somewhere in there .. I know there is a power greater than anything I have studied. I just do not have enough experience with it to nail it down properly.

Randomly I asked if she always liked people. She told me I was talkative .. I slid the sarcasm card in and asked her .. was I not always so? But then I asked her who taught her this .. to see the good in people. She ignored it .. the sarcasm as she should .... and told me she just always saw the good in them. From an early age. No one had taught her .. it just was.

She asked me .. what I saw about people first. I asked her if she meant .. what was the first thing I noticed? She specified that what she wanted to know was what I saw when I actually started to observe. The meaty parts .. not the skin deep ones. The muscle and sinew .. not the flesh itself.

We were star gazing the entire time .. the coals of the fire had died slowly and as they did more stars would show themselves.

I had never had to answer that question specifically and I thought about it for a few moments. I told her I believed I observed first how people relate to each other. How they treat each other .. their weaknesses and strengths.

She asked me if I had done this as a child .. observe weaknesses and strengths .. had I done so that early as well?

I was instantly very guarded and suspicious of such questions .. a small flicker of aggression within my gaze as I shifted my focus from the stars to her profile. I told her .. yes ... I did. As early as I could remember. She turned to meet my gaze and her own widened seeing what all mine contained. Which only made my own eyes narrow in calculation of her reaction. The beast stirred ....

She randomly asked me if the starts spoke to me .. which of course switched my gears. I gave her one of those dry smirks so she knew I knew what she had done. I answered her .. I told her the stars only spoke to me in my dreams. She said they did not speak to her .. but her uncle had told her they had a lot to say. I told her that her uncle spoke true. They did .. indeed ... though not to me so much outside my dreams. She asked me then if the conversations were good ones. I answered her .. that not many of my conversations with the Sky were good ones and I chuckled without any mirth.

She caught the lack of amusement in my tone and broke off to get a cup of water. I told her .. that she observed me more than interacted with me. That she shied away from it .. often ... as if she wished to learn before she did so. She told me she wished to learn .. yes ... but more than that.

She told me that .. the shying away was also part of a dance .. a dance of conversation. Where she took a breath. I asked her if that was important .. she said yes breathing just so happened to be. I told her breathing was overrated. As I expected it would .. her naivety protected her from the second meaning of that statement. But .. dragging my mind back out of the trenches I told her if that was how she needed to converse ... this dance ... then I would understand it.

That seemed to concern her .. she asked me if I did not appreciate her dance ... and that she would attempt to not do such ... though it might leave her overwhelmed.

HA

I fell right back in .. must have been walking the edge. I told her .. she must know an overwhelmed woman was very attractive. Somewhere .. some small part of me was feeling guilty for I added .. with all teasing aside I wanted her to be herself. I wanted her to be comfortable.

I lied.

She has no idea though. Not sure that is salvation for me .. but it does work ... salvation or not.

She told me she wished for these things for me as well. She did not want me to be uncomfortable. I had to chuckle and ask her if she was so sure of that. She said she remembered the talk about my personal space. Well .. seems she may have listened but she did not really hear. Which .. I suppose is typical. I told her if everyone respected my comfort all the time ... I would never get close to anyone.

I asked her .. to answer two questions for me before we parted and headed to our respective wagons. She asked me if she could have the same and I told her yes .. but not that night. She looked so woebegone I told her I would owe her one. Wily Tuchuk Seveya .. she got two "observations" and one "answer me this" question out of me to be redeemed at a later date.

huh .. I need to hone my bartering skills a little.

I asked her to tell me one thing she was unsure of .. about me ... and one thing she was sure of .... about me.

She told me she was unsure how I felt about her .. but that she was sure I was at least willing to be around her regardless of how I felt.

I smirked.

HA

One of the questions she may ask me later is what my smirks mean.