Consequences, Like Falling Stars

A churning sky darkened over the hills of Bastilhas while rain disturbed the grass, the lily pads, and the broad-leaf shrubs. Songbirds took cover beneath the branches of small trees and frogs croaked loudly, excited by the change in the air. In a shallow marsh, hidden by the reeds, laid a boy. He was badly bruised, cheeks swollen and bloodied by cuts. His despondent eyes were just above a pool of murky water that rippled with the falling rain.

the boy thought through shallow breaths.

The boy's battered hand clutched a thick reed stem.

Foot steps squashed the mud and splashed through the shallow water. The boy turned his head and saw a shadow loom above him. "I'm sorry," said a young man. By the accent, the boy could tell it was also an Atilonian from the Highlands. "I thought I'd come to help, but… all I could do was watch."

the boy thought.

"Come here, lift your arm," the young man said. "If you don't die from infection, the cold will get you; up and at'em."

the boy wondered while he was pulled by the arm. His every bone ached, beaten by kicks and punches, but in the man's grip he found the extra strength he needed to stand.

"I'm Lucas," the young man said. It was hard to see past the eye fluids and the obstruction of his swollen cheek, but what the boy saw was a soldier in a blue greatcoat.

"M-Matteo," the boy answered, shivered in the chill of a passing breeze.

Lucas nodded and smiled, unbuttoned his coat and handed it to Matteo. "They took your coat," he said. "Here."

Matteo looked at the white sleeve of his buttoned-down shirt. It was drenched in mud from his fall. While Lucas held the coat, Matteo undid his shirt and tossed it to the reeds, then slipped his arm through the greatcoat sleeve and bundled himself in its warmth.

"4th Company, 2nd Platoon," Lucas said. "How about you?"

Matteo nodded.

Lucas chuckled. "I thought so," he said. "They said they had shipped in blue-patterns."

"How?" Matteo croaked in pain.

The soldier took Matteo's arm and crouched down, laid it over his own shoulder. "How did I find you, or how did I know?" he wondered aloud. "Well, when I saw those guys from the 3rd Platoon dragging you off camp I knew something was up. And you could say I figured you were in our platoon because, you see—" Lucas flashed a yellow-tooth smile. "Shouting at an angel from a truck's dumpster seat is just the sort of thing we'd do."

Matteo frowned. he thought as he stared at his bright blue eyes. He clutched his bruised stomach.

"Don't say a word," Lucas said. "I'll get a medic to look at you. A few bandages, a few antibiotics, and you'll be fine. Just put one foot forward, can you do that?"

Matteo's leg shuddered when he tried to move, but despite the protest, it made one step in his soggy boot.

"Great," Lucas said. "Now we just gotta do that, oh… a few thousands more times."

There wasn't a trail back to camp. Matteo had been taken to the end of a valley, far off the beaten paths, and had Lucas not followed he may not have been found at all. Their journey back took them through the marsh and the reeds, before they were on the hills again. Matteo meanwhile dipped in and out of clarity, his wondering thoughts distracted by pain and exhaustion.

By the time they returned to the sea of tents that was the 401st regiment's improvised barracks, it was already well past nightfall. The rain fell heavily and the moon was hidden by the clouds, but Lucas was comfortable in the dark. When MPs turned up with their lanterns and rifles, Lucas flashed his identifying Signa. Medics arrived with a stretcher, in time to catch Matteo before he collapsed. What passed after were just afterimages in the boy's eyes. Nurses and doctors flit about a large tent, supplied Matteo's veins with a saline insertion for hydration, and morphine to ease the pain. He was bandaged and left for the night.

Matteo's heart fluttered, his eyes flagged with weariness, and finally he slept; safe beneath a blanket in the camp infirmary.

In the dark of his mind, in his deep dream, were falling, golden lights. They crossed a night sky of white stars, burned holes through high clouds, and crossed down over the mountains, the valleys, and sea. The lights crashed in brilliant flashes, joined by the ear-popping crack of distant explosions. In his dream, Matteo turned his head and looked up. A light shined overhead, turned brighter and brighter, until…

… it hit him.