He could feel their looks of disgust, their piercing gaze sadly all too familiar. At first, he regretted tossing aside the flask, his natural inclination to use its contents to drown out their judgmental stares; but he knew that was nothing more than a crutch; one that almost brought about his ruin.
And then he heard them gasp. Something about the sound shook him from his self pity. He looked up, noticing the dreadful gaze of the crowd had left him, their heads tilted back, many with mouths agape. He carefully stood, his joints aching from the torch like anger from the gods; brushing himself off, he flowing their eyes and saw it.
The comet …
He couldn’t help himself, his self loathing and hatred toward those that had mislabeled him quickly turned to rage. Not against the gods, nor the people in the crowd; but at that thing in the sky. And yet, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. He hadn’t realized, but he had once more ascended the steps and stood near Shidris.
“Forgive my boldness …” he said, briefly moving his eyes from the comet to her, “is that what I think it is?” He asked. Once more turning to look up at the interloper, his hand shielding his eyes from its brilliance.