Candles

The night air was cold but calm, the streets covered by a thick duvet of crisp white snow, the fair breeze fresh and tingling on the skin. In every window, outside every door, candlelight flickered in a solemn silence that mirrored the stars in the sky. There was a certain emptiness to the city, no cars were out on the road for it was a public holiday and everyone was at home – even the stray animals kept to their makeshift homes in alleyways and car parks. It was the final day of Allarah de Guerra, the Days of War, and from dawn until the next day it was always passed quietly, almost a personal celebration. No dancing or feasting or laughter, just remembrance of peaceful times, of love and of loved ones lost in war. For most it was a time of solemnity, of calm, yet for others it was a night of sadness, and of loneliness.

A single candle burnt on the rooftop of a dark building, its tiny flame dancing with every stroke of the gentle breeze. A single figure on the low wall beside it, he sat looking out over the city, shimmering with the pinpoints of starlight. All the windows of this building either had no ledges or the shutters were jammed shut, no use for placing candles on, so he had come up to the roof with this little flame, and had been sitting there for a while.

He watched the jerky movements of the candle flame with only a partial interest; his mind was elsewhere that night. Did no one else in the Brotherhood care? Well, that would be an unfair judgement, everyone cared, but some people just didn't do anything about it. But still, it seemed as though the holiday had been forsaken. No one spoke about it, and the base had been as noisy as usual. At least no one had 'gone out' that night; easy pickings galore, but there was some feeling between every person that this was not a time to be out stealing. It just didn't seem right.

Even so, he was feeling very lonely up on the rooftop alone, with the candles of the city blinking like a million eyes and occasionally fading out of existence as the little flame died. The wind was blowing stronger now, and he moved the candle to his opposite side, shielding it from the gust. Perhaps he'd just been touched more? But that was a selfish thought – he'd got off lightly during the recent Saurian invasion, with no loss of his immediate family. It had touched everyone in some way or another, most for the worse but some for the better…

A noise behind him; he turned around to see another figure standing there, holding a tiny flame in her cupped hands. She nodded to him, placing the candle beside his, and then took up a position on the wall, swinging her legs as she sat there in silence. He waited for her to say something, to break the mood, but she remained silent. Truth be thought, he was rather glad – he wasn't sure he wanted it to end. The silence, lonely as it was, was also strangely calming. Comforting? Maybe…

After a while she turned to him, a gentle smile touching her lips, then shifted closer and laid her head on his shoulder. He slipped his arm around her waist, and they stayed together like that, watching the candles of hope light the city – stars in the sky, stars in the windows – and the loneliness faded away.

The End