Canicula

With the city constantly ablaze, I grew up unable to see much of the stars. I was nought but a wee thing the first time my mum took me out of the city; we'd driven for hours, she and I, to what I'd thought then to be the edge of the world.

We'd picnicked in a field, bundled up for warmth, and she began to tell me the most fascinating of tales. She told me of Solis, the all-powerful sun, who began his pursuit of Luna, the sweet moon. As the skies ran from blue to pink to red, colours melding together, she told me that Solis, as he has done for centuries now, writes his love in colour for the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

Now, before my very eyes, my mothers' story has come to life! I looked towards the skies with awe. The stars, countless pearls and gems, peek out scattered across the skies; glittering gifts to the beautiful, the kind, Luna. She pointed then, my mother, to the brightest of stars in the sky; Canicula. She told me the tale of Icaria and his most loyal dog, Sirius, who was changed into a star.

At my loneliest hour, she'd said, I should look towards Sirius, and that this loyal companion, a friend to me, would lead me towards all that is good, and just, and light. I would be led from the darkness and all that is war. [War; wahr- Scot. and North England. Worse.]