Prologue

Prologue

 

IF YOU WERE TO SPOT four big, red stars floating in the night sky, you might strain your eyes to determine precisely just what those lights were.

Perhaps these conspicuously large, beautifully glimmering objects are apples—bringers of love and life. Or maybe they are the eyes of great black hares—governors of curses and terrible memories. Whatever they may be, once you’ve seen them, you can never go back. Once you know the answer, you must start moving at once, before it’s too late.

If they are apples, then you must try your best to seize them for those you hold dear. If you find instead that they are hares with flapping ears flying your way, then you must shout at the top of your lungs to warn those you wish to protect.

I love you. That is why you must run from here. I will be fine. I need you to run, to flee from here before the reaching black shadows swallow you whole. And if one day you should find a real apple, warmly glistening, think of me somewhere in the traces of your memory. When that time comes, even if you find yourself all alone, you must eat that apple. That apple will be the reward of all those who fought to live, and of I, who gave my life to save you.

You get it, right? This isn’t a tragic ending. This is the beginning of a brand new tale. So you mustn’t cry. We all must take heed of those four red stars.