Prompt: The Sky Alive
The rooftop of St. Nikolay inspire a boy and the Archimandrite.
This story was inspired by
’s prompt, simply titled “the sky alive.” This is a little back story for my main character of my Skyrates story, Mikhail. It’s part worldbuilding, part establishing the relationship between two main characters.Full disclosure: This is a Russian-adjacent setting, but I am neither Russian nor Orthodox. Please forgive any ignorance I might show. :’)
Mikhail laid between the onion domes of St. Nikolay’s rooftop, studying the stars above. The occasional shooting star did not distract him from his sketch work. He finished drafting three constellations in his notebook when a distant voice called out to him.
He quickly sat up and focused on a shadowy figure at the edge of the roof. Once he recognized the silhouette of the skufia, he let go of the tension he built. He was on his feet just as the priest approached him, his notebook tucked away in his right pocket.
“How long have you been up here, Mikhail?”
“Since after night prayer, Archimandrite.”
“You are not a brother, my boy. You may call me Iosef.”
“Yes, sir.”
The priest looked above, lost for a moment in contemplation. Then he perviewed the rooftop. It was veiled in glittering, iridescent stardust. It called to his mind powdered sugar on a pryaniki.
“I see that you are collecting the stardust on the roof.” He gestured towards a clean spot between the domes.
“What do you do with them?” He asked.
Mikhail reluctantly reached into his left pocket and presented a glass vile of stardust.
“I collect them for observation.”
“May I?”
He extended an open hand, waiting for the boy’s permission. When it was gently placed in his palm, he raised the vile to eye level and scrutinized the object. His thick, ash-brown brows framed his studious gaze. The holographic stardust illuminated his gray eyes.
“It seems to be stardust from the constellation Cancer. That does not surprise me, given that it is summertime.”
Iosef returned the vile, waiting for Mikhail to gingerly put it back in his pocket.
“It is fitting that the stardust choose to rest on our rooftops. After all, heaven and earth meet here. Let’s take a seat.”
He chose a spot before clumsily kneeling down. His cassock obstructed his movement. Mikhail held out his hands ready to assist. Though in his fifties, Iosef’s daily walks kept him limber enough to successfully sit on the roof. Once they both had settled, he continued.
“Do you know that our bodies are made from stardust? Just like the ones you found here. We have all sorts of purposes for stardust - medicine to heal the body, machinery to sustain our livelihood, art to heal the soul.
We take from the stars, yet we never stop to contemplate its mystery. The stars alone are a testament to a sky alive. Imagine what else waits for us?”
Mikhail enjoyed listening to his reflections. Before he was placed under his care, his only interactions with Iosef were during liturgy. On the rooftop of St. Nikolay, a shared sense of wonder dismissed any formalities expected for the Archimandrite.
“Would you ever leave Rusvia to explore the skies?”
A smile broke through his graying beard.
“It would be a wonderful opportunity. But my vocation is here, serving our home with my brothers.”
Looking back at the sky, they watched a ship slowly floating westward, away from home.
“What about you?”
He did not expect to be asked this question. In fact, people did not expect much for him. He looked for an answer in the sparkling powder surrounding them.
“Maybe? I think I am too young to be on my own.”
Iosef ruffled his dark, curly hair and gave a soft chuckle.
“Yes, it is not appropriate to travel alone at ten years old. If someday you have the opportunity, I’m sure that the skies will welcome you with open arms.”
This is the perfect amount of explanation of the stardust--"huh this is cancer stardust, and we use it for xyz." BOOM MAGICAL REALISM ACHIEVED. Looking forward to more!