"A master of the stars, or a slave to them ?"
Ezekiel Joziah Hunt is the last of the fallen stars.
His eyes are like poison amethyst.
His heart is a battlefield between the light and the shadow.
And his destiny is an incomplete prophecy.
His legenda...
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As much as Aris wanted, it was getting increasingly difficult to remain positive.
On Thursday, all of them were on their way to Fuegos. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air. He glanced at the mirror and saw that Nia had fallen asleep, her head lolling backwards. Aris was momentarily surprised when realization dawned over him that soon they would go to Fuegos again, for the very different event of Nicholas' wedding. Something that Aahan had hidden until the last moment.
He hoped and prayed that nothing bad would happen before that.
"Where are we headed?" Zeke asked softly from the adjacent seat. Aris' heart lurched slightly at his voice. His stomach clenching nervously when he recalled how Zeke had confessed to him, even though he had thought maybe he never would.
"Imperial Hospital," Aris said. "It's supposed to be the best in Fuegos. Fun fact, it's actually where I was born."
Silence fell again. Aris was feeling too tensed to try and lighten up the mood. He kept glancing at Zeke and saw that he had impressively kept his face impassive, which gave him a little strength.
"We're here," he called after a while as Nia jerked awake, her eyes wide.
They climbed out of the car into the parking lot of the hospital. It was a vast ground, lined with trees and plants. In front of them was a massive, sleek building with multiple signboards. Aris took a deep breath as they started walking towards the building. Zeke moved towards him, holding his hands as their fingers intertwined naturally. His heart leapt as he looked at his soft smile. "It's going to be okay."
And just like that, Aris believed him.
He squeezed his hand reassuringly as they walked into the building, the morose smell of antiseptic liquid and medicines entering his nostrils.
Aris had hated hospitals ever since he could remember. He hated the rush with which everyone seemed to be rushing around, in crisp white uniforms, with complicated equipment. Hated the way the place seemed to radiate an amalgamation of good and bad energy. Somehow, the pessimism always outweighed optimism. He hated the tiled walls, hated the light paint. Hated the motivational quotes.
He sighed softly, hoping no one would notice. But he could feel his stomach knotting in trepidation. Aahan and Nia walked over to the counter behind which a young woman stood. They talked to her and Aris studied their reactions, trying to wrest meaning out of them. Zeke stroked his thumb in assuring circles on the back of his hand and aris' heart lurched again, unused to such loving caress.
"They said the operation is going on," Aahan said as they returned. His voice was low. Nia bit her lip, her eyes swimming with worry which made Aris' nervousness worse.
"We should go wait there," Zeke said as they started walking towards the left hallway towards where Nia pointed.
Everything in Aris made him want to return. But Zeke's calm, confident demeanour was somehow helping him to trudge through. He knew he had to. He couldn't bear if anything bad happened to Gran. He couldn't bear to see Nia.
