Does the Liar Err at Dawn? (1)

Chapter Two: Does the Liar Err at Dawn?

(1)

Hands were cuffed and bonds tightened until the flesh grooved beneath them. My soft arms stretched out, helpless and powerless, reflecting the darkness of space and its harsh rocks onto their chains. I was aimless, without reference, trapped amidst trapped tears, like the suspect standing in a vast square, accused of a brazen daylight murder. This time, the police were the weeping eyes, and the killer was my heart, and no one else's. I prayed the earth would swallow me when I realized returning to the ship was no longer an option after I had uttered my reckless words before them, trying to salvage Star Two's situation. I found I had led the spotlight directly towards myself, like the prime suspect, as if our leaving the ship at night was the sole reason for losing some of them, as if my presence or absence would have affected them in any way. Ah, and the overflow of mixed feelings from their wounded hearts reached me; I even understood its words: perhaps I had become one of those who lost the thread of life instead of one of them. Could another truly have survived if I had been in her place in that imaginary scenario? Had misery penetrated their hearts to this extent? And if I had to blame someone, it would be Star Three, who stopped us from the beginning with her ridiculous question. What did she expect me, or any other star confined to a library or observing a lab, to do?

Then, after some time had passed, I realized that prayers alone are useless, just like wishes, and that thinking rationally, if you possess enough wisdom, leads you to only one solution: correcting the misunderstanding diplomatically, without blaming anyone. This begins in two stages: First, to understand the previous catastrophe down to the last detail—all its causes, consequences, and lessons; to comprehend who fell, who endured, who tried, and who gave up. And second, to re-extend the broken lines dangling from the sky between myself and the squad leaders, for they alone possess the ability to explain the picture anew to our sisters, giving the truth a voice that can be heard amidst this rubble.

(2)

Her mark was a cup of tea on a wooden table, a cup that never left her, no matter what, and always full wherever I met her. Sometimes she sipped it as if it were bitter medicine, and other times she enjoyed it like a beast accustomed to eating only one main meal for endless years. Her seat wasn't inside the ship, but atop the surface of its nose, where she had habitually sat since we set sail. And always beside her rested her sword made of gold dust and ash, glowing with its unique sheen under the moonlight, the trace of frozen blood upon it showing like silent scars. On her thick leather jacket, inlaid with heavy metal, our insignia stood out. Sometimes the shadow of her long, straight, silver hair covered it, and sometimes the number five—written by the Sun's hand in honor—was revealed. She wore it over the sailor's uniform, making her the only one among us dressed differently from the others. She was the fiercest in competitions, the most savage in games, and the strongest build among us. I still remember the words preceding every ball game: If you want to stay unharmed, never stand in Five's way when she wants to score! I was always annoyed by that phrase, but we never cared; how lucky was anyone who played on her team. And you wouldn't believe it if I told you she was completely the opposite in classes and lessons, suddenly transforming into a considerate, helpful star, quick to smile and rarely still. Perhaps that's why she became the leader of the Protection and Health squads.

I approached her, and she raised her eyes from her teacup: "Star Five, could I steal a minute of your break time to catch a word?"

"Depends on the kind of talk, but how could I refuse a request from our gentle writer, Seven. Please, sit down while I prepare a cup of tea for you; I have some biscuits too."

Although I was only asking her to listen to me for a minute, I sat on the opposite chair, my eyes contemplating the spilled tea stains on and around the table. This didn't usually happen, until I noticed the ship's tilt. Luckily, she hadn't been thrown from the ship with her table during the fall, otherwise, that would have been the most grievous loss we would have suffered. She is safety, and what else besides safety could we need here?

"What specifically did you want to talk about?"

"Some questions about tonight's incident."

"But I already explained the matter to you earlier."

She raised her cup to her lips, her hand trembling. Her agitation was clear, and I could be certain that this smile of hers was undoubtedly fake. There were more details she was hiding from me, no doubt about it.

"Star Four said you detonated the fuel stored in the ship's rear. I don't think that was your plan to drive off the wolves; judging by the blood staining you then, you were in the ship's corridors protecting the Stars. Was it Three, then, who ordered it?"

Her heart refused to answer before her tongue did. This wasn't her habit, and this silence was nothing but confirmation of what I suspected. There had been a disagreement, a collision, another fall. The impact of what happened that night was more severe than just wolves invading the ship during our absence.

I deduced something new: when they needed Star Two then and didn't find her, they knew she wasn't on the ship, meaning the story precedes and goes beyond the wolves.

"I don't like how Star Three portrayed Two as having an important influence on us, when she actually has no connection to defense or organization, nor do I. The matter bothers me."

Five furrowed her brows and answered sharply: "That doesn't change the fact that it was wrong for you two to leave the ship at night without anyone knowing. If you're trying to find an excuse for me to overlook your violation, I will never participate with you in that!"

As expected. I can read Star Five easily, but she is extremely cautious. She believes some matters must be kept confidential from the others, and therefore, it's difficult to lure her or push her to disclose details of what went on in closed rooms. But I knew exactly who could help me with that; she alone could give me the answers I seek.

(3)

I retraced my steps outside after being dismissed from the tea table. It was then I realized that, instead of resolving part of the conflict, I had placed another barrier between us, widening the distance. This wasn't what I had sought, but I found no other way to talk with her without my words colliding with a wall of silence and refusal. I walked away until I reached the tree, and there, I sat beneath it. I placed the lamp beside me and began flipping through the pages of the book I had stolen from last night's adventure, my eyes gleaming with the reflection of its faint light on its glass cover. I lifted my gaze for a moment, contemplating the perfect engraving carved on the rock beside me. Star One must have made this grave, and she must have been in a good enough mood then to transform pain into a masterpiece immortalizing those who fell. How I wish we wouldn't have to make another. That was her hobby; she loves drawing and sculpting, loves immortalizing moments by creating landmarks that remain witnesses to what we've experienced. Even when she first saw me, she drew me as a child hiding behind a great light. I didn't realize then that she meant me, until later, when I looked at the drawing through her eyes and recalled the memories.

Then she appeared. She approached slowly, hesitantly, hiding a feeling of shame and disappointment behind her impassive facial expressions. I didn't need to hear her words to know what she would say; I knew it beforehand, as if I had read it in an old book a thousand times. Therefore, I didn't listen to her, didn't even lift my eyes from the book, letting it reflect the lamplight on its glass surface. When I decide on my actions and choices, I don't like anyone blaming me. I live my life like a novel, and the words I write are those I have chosen carefully, to extract from them the meaning of absolute rightness—rightness as I see it, not as others do.

Her hesitation didn't last long. She sat down quietly, without looking at me or the book, and said: "You shouldn't have done that then!"

I didn't look up, didn't change my position, left no room for doubt in my reply: "Weren't you the one who told me before that there's no use talking about matters that have passed? Indeed, the mistake was mine when I didn't extinguish the flame of your enthusiasm at the start. If blame must be cast on someone, my personality makes me the ideal candidate for that, unlike you. Everyone knows I'm the one drawn by adventure, the one defeated by curiosity in every day and every tale."

Silence fell for a moment, but she didn't back down, didn't get up to leave. Instead, her response came quickly, carrying the weight of the truth I hadn't yet dared to face: "But they won't just blame you for going out with me; they will hold you responsible for the deaths of all those stars."

Her tone was harsh, merciless, but it wasn't empty cruelty; it was the truth in its harshest form. I finally raised my eyes and looked directly into hers. There was something cold in her gaze, something I hadn't seen in her before.

"What will you do then? Will you just apologize? Will you kneel to them for forgiveness?"

I didn't answer because, for the first time, I didn't know the answer. I had put myself inside a net I couldn't escape from. That's what I thought for a moment. But what was hidden from her was that I can find a way out, I can create a path of escape. For when I discover the truth of what happened that night, I can cast the blame onto another star. Indeed, I must, because one of them is now trying to evade her deed.

Ha! What am I talking about?! Am I serious now?! Casting blame won't solve any problems. I must mend the threads, not cut them further. I don't want us to part ways—not me, not her, not any of the others—not in circumstances like these. I took a deep breath before saying: "You are my older sister, and my dear friend. Bearing this blame for you is my way of thanking you for all you've done for me; you were always by my side, unlike the rest of the Stars. Although I was a little annoyed at being chosen for your adventure tonight, I truly felt happy when I was chosen again, and when you didn't stop as soon as I took your hand to return. I had a wonderful time near the Legislative Center."

That's enough. I can end the conversation with this gentle phrase, and I'll be perfectly satisfied. I stood up quietly, ready to leave, my destination clear before me now: that tall shadow hiding behind the tree could only belong to Star One. Since she witnessed everything that happened, I know she won't be stingy with her answers to me; she will be my ideal savior at this moment. But before I could move, her voice came again, quiet yet cutting: "Where are you going? If you're thinking of talking to Star One now, it won't do you any good. She's in shock, barely able to distinguish her surroundings while muttering prayers. If you have questions about what happened tonight, it would be better to talk to Star Four. You know her habit when she gets angry; she always runs away from us, so you'll find her in the destroyed lab at the front of the ship."

Then she added, in a lower voice: "Can I also accompany you there?"

What am I looking at in what I'm doing? My goal wasn't to turn these pages into a dramatic mystery story. But I felt something different tonight—resolve and determination. Was this one of the effects of this book I'm holding? Or was it the effect of a wound I only now realized, a wound suddenly created by my imagination? Was this a desire for separation, to solve things alone? Perhaps. But when I heard her request, when I heard she wanted to accompany me, a faint smile broke across my face involuntarily, as if it dusted me off.

I am not alone. She was always by my side. I said that before, so why was I trying to distance myself from her? She sees the shore, and I see the wave, and together we create a complete scene. I am the one who writes, and she is the one who reads what I weave for her.

"We can get through this together, like we did before. Remember? Your first day in the sky, when you hid in the library? I imagined you were me back then. Because from my first day, I was alone. I used to look outside, at the schoolyard, where they played and their laughter rose, and I blamed myself because I didn't have enough courage to go out and interact with them, because I felt the whole thing was scary and complicated."

She paused for a moment, looked at me, then continued in a warmer voice: "And when I saw you, I told myself: I must help her get out, because perhaps I refused inwardly for another star to live through the feeling I had lived through. And without realizing it, because of you, I found myself stepping onto the garden grass for the first time. Helping you then pushed me, made me forget that fear, blinded me completely. And because I'm not one of the stars who show their feelings easily, like kind Four, you saw me follow you without apparent interest, but in reality, I was afraid of leaving you, and I followed you without uttering a word."

I couldn't hold back my tears at all, nor stop my hands from reaching back and hugging her tightly. I had told myself moments ago, but hearing her say it with her own tongue, confirming that the relationship connecting us isn't just a fleeting friendship, that she refuses for it to be so, gave my heart new desires: a desire to survive together, until the end of this tale, and a desire to explore every detail of this world, before our inevitable end arrives.

(4)

(Excerpt from the book Seven was reading before Star Two interrupted her.)

Persistence doesn't create corruption, but it reveals it. The continuation of any illicit action, like jumping over the wall for example, makes it easy to discover over time. And as I mentioned in the previous chapter about the importance of the Uprising as a necessity for change, there is a dangerous matter that you shouldn't overlook before you join an opposing party, or join hands with activists calling for change: most of them carry a hidden interest behind a mask of principles and postulates. They will call for freedom, a better future, more jobs, liberation or war—something that makes you believe in the soundness of the doctrine they follow. But, have you asked yourself about their past? About their hidden goals? About their followers and their sponsors?

You might find yourself following a party that does what is right and says what is right, but carries hidden intentions within it. And when the decisive moment comes, when it realizes it grasps the absolute truth, that might push it to do something crazy, unexpected. And you don't want to fall into the nets of the unknown. Therefore, don't follow them blindly; don't surrender your mind to any banner waved by the crowds. Understand, analyze, think, then choose. Follow your heart, and rise up as you wish, but don't forget to always ask yourself: To whom do I truly belong? And why?

(5)

The shooting stars that fall from the sky and collide with the earth leave behind a tale worth telling, a trace that beings sing of as long as they live. But for the sky, they are nothing but a loss and disappearance, the vanishing of one of its landmarks. Perhaps that rock was featureless, just a stone without an identity, nothing distinguishing it. Yet, that rock which seems worthless today might one day become a unique planet, or a world teeming with life. The sky lost a chance, a slight possibility, but an indispensable hope. And I, like the sky, lost a story, lost a chance whose value I only realized after it was gone. Oh, my luck and my misery!

The school bell rings, and everyone runs outside immediately upon hearing it—everyone except me. I remained silently in my place until the Sun approached me, gently took my hand, and led me to the yard where the Stars were playing. Then, I saw for the first time the wide schoolyard, a vast green garden, filled with laughing Stars, full of life. How did the Sun expect me to join them, when the Stars formed a closed circle with no place for me in it?

And in a far corner, there was one star, sitting silently, watching calmly from afar. It was Star One. I felt in that moment that I had found the only place I could sit that day. I approached her shyly. She smiled at me and said: "Is that you, Star Seven? Why are you sitting here? Don't you want to play with them?"

"I don't know how I can join them. All this noise and movement, I don't know if it really suits me. I don't want to insert myself among them without an identity."

Her smile widened slightly, then she said calmly: "Although you were granted the number seven, you are still young. I forgot that. Actually, it's not necessary for you to play with them. The break period exists for us to do what we truly desire. I, for example, use this time to draw what I find attractive to the eye. If playing doesn't suit you, you can simply look for something that suits you better."

It sounded easy when she told me, but when you yourself begin an endless adventure searching for a hobby, you realize the matter is harder than it seems. After hours of searching and experimenting, I realized I had been lying to myself; I never had enough courage to move beyond the observation stage. In the end, my path led me to the library. There I found quiet and solitude, found the perfect place for a quick nap, to rest myself and my nerves from the exhaustion of trying to integrate.

Her presence was quiet and shy, without any expression showing on her face. She stood behind me for a moment as if thinking of the ideal way to wake me without startling me, then approached step by step, gently extended her finger, lightly touched my cheek, whispering my name until I woke from my reverie. I slowly opened my eyes to see her standing behind me, quiet, shy, observing me with her eyes that never settled on one state. I don't know how she recognized me even though we hadn't spoken before, but I didn't feel anxious around her; her gaze was warm and calm despite the mystery of her presence. I tilted my head slightly and saw her face partially hiding behind me. It was Star Two. She said in her delicate voice, though it carried a firm tone: "Presence here is forbidden! Okay, not entirely forbidden, you can stay for a while, but you can't spend the whole break alone here. You have to play with them outside. Being alone isn't good; calmness, if prolonged, becomes terrifying. Come on! I will accompany you there."

What a greedy star, did she want to seize this little paradise of isolation for herself? But because of her, I got a companion for the first time. Perhaps, together, I could find something to make me enjoy these long days.

"I haven't seen you before, are you new here?"

"That's right, this is my first day at the school. I received the number seven."

Her eyes widened slightly, as if the number sparked some memory in her, then she smiled and said enthusiastically: "Seven?! That's wonderful for a new star! It seems the Sun expects much from you." She paused for a moment, seeming to think before adding in a low voice, as if recounting an old story: "Do you know the story of the previous Star who carried the number seven? She was nicknamed the White Chrysanthemum. She led the Engineering Squad previously, and it's said the ship hanging outside is one of her masterpieces. No one helped her design it; she laid out its plans herself, worked on it alone, from beginning to end. It's even rumored she designed the Celestial Color Wall."

All this? I had never heard of such a great star before. I myself had never imagined being in a position to hear such stories. I whispered to myself, before uttering it in a barely audible voice: "I don't think I can become like her, with such greatness..."

Star Two didn't smile this time; instead, her voice took on a serious tone as she said: "The life of Stars is extremely long, and you are still in your early days. Countless nights await you, during which you might surpass that star, you might even leave a greater legacy than hers. It all depends on your determination, and on the strength of the flame of your passion."

Can I truly become like her, O Sun? To be something the Stars talk about one day? Then, I will exert all my effort to surpass your expectations!

(6)

The flagstones of the corridor end just as the conversation finishes. I look at her, and she offers me the reins of initiative. All I have to do now is finally pack my bags to leave. I close my fingers on the handle without moving it. Then her hand touches mine gently, holding it in place. I raise my eyes to hers, and an ancient, deep, and proud smile forms on her lips; it was the first and last time I saw her smile. She said nothing, but she didn't need to; that smile alone equaled for me thousands of encouraging phrases.

I pushed the door, and with it, I pushed my fears. I had found one of the two lost ones, and I would continue with her until I found the other. Before the end of this evening, I would be a complete star.

As we crossed the threshold, the garden's bright light blinds our eyes for moments, and its noise drowns us so we can barely hear the calls of the other Stars. But they were there, close by. As soon as I regained my sight, I found myself surrounded by them, holding onto me as if I were a missing element that had finally returned. It was a large group. They carried me with them deep into the heart of the garden, while Star Two followed behind, silently, unnoticed by me, and with no one paying attention to her presence.

"Where were you?! We've been looking for you since morning!"

"We need one last player to join us. You'll play with us, right?"

I couldn't refuse, nor did I want to. Unlike all previous times, I was eager to participate. I followed them from one game to another, the smile never leaving my face, completely forgetting what had previously prevented me from delving into their relationships. It no longer required thought; I became part of them.

My eyes were closed; I had been chosen to search for the Stars hiding in the garden. A simple game. I finish counting, open my eyes while kneeling, but instead of finding them scattered and hidden, I see them all around me, gazing at me with bright smiles. "Come on!! It's hide-and-seek, not chase!" I said it laughing, before falling onto the grass, stretching my head towards the sky. It had been an unbelievably fun day, and now, after my strength had completely failed me, I wanted nothing more than a single moment to catch my breath. Then she appeared.

"Star Five. that's clear, right?"

I raised my head to her, and she continued steadily: "Actually, we grant one star, at the end of each day, the decision to choose the game we end with. And today we decided it's your turn! So, what do you want us to do?"

"A game I choose for everyone?"

"It doesn't have to be a game; it could be a competition."

I fell silent for a moment, then an idea sparked in my mind: "I want to see our school from a clearer angle. There's a hill not far from here, we could..."

"Adventure far away to the hill!" She interrupted me enthusiastically, before turning to the others and shouting: "I'm sure the Stars will like it. So, you got it!"

This seems perfect, but where is Star Two? I completely forgot about her as soon as I got immersed in playing. It didn't take long to find her. She was conspicuous, sitting alone atop the school gate wall, as if she had been there from the start, watching silently. I called her, waving my hand: "What are you doing up there, Star Two? I thought you were playing with us the whole time!"

She didn't turn her head immediately, merely staring at the horizon for a moment before replying in her usual monotonous voice: "I felt tired from the first game. Running, clinging, searching—all things my body rejects, as a reclusive library star, I mean. But I wasn't alone; I was sitting with Star Six and Thirteen. They explained entirely new ways of tying knots to me; this will help me later in reassembling worn-out volumes."

Then she looked at me, her eyes pulsing with something hidden, perhaps curiosity, perhaps boredom: "Is there anything new?"

"We want to go out together on an adventure to the hill. Do you want to accompany me?"

She didn't answer immediately. She jumped from the top of the wall to the ground with agility, without any preamble. After she landed, her gaze shifted towards me. No expression graced her face, as was always the case. Then, without another word, she began walking, leaving me behind this time.

"Alright! Star Five is a little busy, so I, Star Four, will lead this adventure. O Sun! We haven't been on an adventure in a long time." Her tone was full of vitality, as if this trip alone was enough to reignite the spark of adventure they had missed. "Are all Stars present and ready?"

Cheers of enthusiasm were the answer. We moved from the yard towards the hill together, the flame of excitement never leaving us the whole way. Star Four was amazing in her ability to create a cheerful atmosphere, making us forget the length of the distance. Even Star Six joined her in that, making the journey seem shorter than it was. When we finally arrived, we each dispersed towards our own destinations. I stood there, satiating my eyes with the view of the small school gleaming with marble and glass below. The scene looked magical under the glow of the sunset, where the golden color reflected on the grass, making it appear yellow, and the sky turned into a mixture of red and orange, as if we were in a living painting.

And so, my body decided to betray me, dropping me again onto the grass, leaving my head to the sky. I wanted a short nap, hoping to wake up alone before everyone returned, but that didn't happen. When I opened my eyes, calmness had filled the place. For a moment, I thought everyone had left without noticing my disappearance amidst the grass, so I stood up terrified, until I saw her. She was sitting there, under a tree. Darkness had fallen, and everyone had left, but she hadn't. She was alone, accompanied by her book, which she closed as soon as our eyes met. She was waiting for me, alone. This was the beginning of our story, and it will continue until the end of this tale, no matter what happens.

In the quiet room, where there was only the lamp's dim light casting shadows on the walls, we were lying beside each other, each lost in her thoughts. Star Two was slowly turning the pages of her book, while I stared at the ceiling, hearing the sound of my breathing harmonizing with the night's stillness. Then I suddenly broke the silence, in a hesitant voice: "Star Two, I was thinking on our way to the hill, how the method of immortalizing experiences and days by drawing them, as Star One does, is wonderful, and I want to do something similar, to immortalize this day I spent with you. But I don't think I'm good at drawing."

She fell silent for a moment, then answered quietly: "What do you think about writing?" I looked at her with surprise, so she continued: "A picture may be worth a thousand words, but describing something as your eyes see it, conveying it accompanied by your feelings, with a gap for the reader to see the story from their perspective and imagination—this is much more beautiful to me. And I will help you with that. Perhaps I haven't written before, but as a reader, I can correct what you write."

"Yes, I'll try to do that tomorrow. As for now, I will sleep for centuries; I feel tired."

She closed her book, placed it aside, then looked at me as I sank into a deep sleep. Finally, she smiled and lowered her head onto her own pillow. Thus, I wrote the end of this long day for us, a special day for her, as it was for me, a day I almost forgot, even though its effects are what made the Star Seven who speaks to you today. What irony.