"... find a way to navigate by the few stars you still have left…"
Aspakos's words hung heavily over Loman's head, like an executioner's axe, ready to fall. The few stars he had left.
He'd lost his left arm, and with it, the power to summon the Bow of Stars. He'd lost his left eye, and without it, the world felt like a darker, more frightening place. He'd lost the natural charm of his features when Dame Sybyll disfigured his face, and now, when people looked at him, he saw only revulsion, fear, and pity on their faces.
But the looks of pity he'd received from ordinary people in the days since Dame Sybyll had scarred him paled in comparison to the looks of pity he received now. Before, the eyes of strangers who looked at him mourned for what he'd lost along with him. They saw him as a tragic figure, a star that had shone once and shone brightly, that was dimmer now. They grieved for that dimming, right along with him, and that made their pity bearable.
