Sirius doesn’t know any of the names borne on these altars.
An old woman with eyes the color of his own had told him they were names of the dead, of the missing - and the odd assortment of leaves, gourds, and candles surrounding them were meant to honor them. To keep them all from forgetting.
It had made little sense to him. How would incense and smoke help them to remember? But he walks amongst them anyway, stepping carefully around the gathered horses who bow their heads quietly and lay more keepsakes at the altars. There’s a strange hush in this corner of the markets, separated as it was from the dancing and the singing and the other festivities.
Their silence made him feel as though he did not belong here; he did not know the faces that went with the endless list of names, he had no memories of them to lay bare. He was an outsider, an intruder upon their grief.
And yet there was a tightness forming in his chest that he could not shake, reminding him all at once of a rope wound around his neck. Sirius came to a sudden stop, his eyes drifting away from the markets, away from the shrines that stood in rows like gravestones. The stars winked at him from above, bright and dancing. And he stared.
He knew it was his imagination, when he saw the pegasus with her wings like spun moonlight soaring amongst the stars. He knew it, because he had seen her fall - and he knew what happened to hawks who fell from the sky. But still he watched, as the silhouette dove in and out of sight.
”Hey.” The voice broke his concentration, and Sirius could only watch as the pegasus suddenly shattered, a thousand pieces of stardust floating gently to the ground. He flicked an ear back, flinching instinctually. ”You okay?” When he turned to the man he thought he was seeing her again, silver and wingless. Sirius blinked, and the stranger came suddenly into focus, like the world shifting back into place.
A heartbeat passed, then another, and Sirius realized he was staring and such a question needed an answer. ”Yes,” he said, shaking his head slowly from side to side. ”I am okay.” I think. He had to resist looking at the sky again then, to be sure the pegasus was gone - he swallowed past the tightness in his throat.
And then, because he felt he needed to say something else to fill the silence, and because there were lines of strain (perhaps grief?) on the other man’s face, he asked, ”You okay, also? Come you remember names?” And he gestured half-heartedly towards the altars that surrounded them.
the sun watches what i do
but the moon
knows all my secrets
@
well i wasn't expecting him to be like this
