Ashes I

“I hate them,” Jayla said, pressing her palms to her face, wiping away her tears as they fell. “I—I—I try so much not to hate them! I didn’t want to hurt anyone, but seeing you talk to him…I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.” She rocked back and forth, rocking Casselian’s dead body in her lap. “Do you know what they think of us?”

“No,” I lied.

“They think we’re beasts. Just because we don’t look the same, just because they don’t like it—I don’t know! I hate it! They treated me like a beast. Me and Cass. He’s the one who broke me out of there…oh, Cass…” She lowered her head, pressing her forehead against Casselian’s. Her fingers twisted in the burnt rags of his shirt. “I’m not an animal,” she murmured. “Neither were you. None of us…we feel just the same as, as a Ry’san. I bet we feel more…” She looked up at me again, her eyes desperate, wide and angry. “We really do feel the same…we don’t have ‘bestial instincts’, none of my ancestors ever fucked a dog or a cat or any of that shitty libel either!”

“I know,” I said. “I know.”

We sat there for some time. Until the morning sun had fully dawned, and the desert sand had grown scorching in the sunlight.

“Where is everyone else?” I asked.

Jayla drew away from me, wary.

“I won’t hurt them, I promise…” It was hard for me to keep my eyes focused on her. I listed to the side a little.

“Your shoulder!” Jayla said. “Here, let me…”

“I’ve got my socks in the bag,” I said before she could rip off the sleeve of her own shirt. “You can use those.”

She took one, balled it up, and pressed it to my shoulder wound. The fingers of her other hand trawled lightly through my hair. “You have a bruise here too, I think. You should stay here and rest in case it’s bad.”

I didn’t want to stay here, amidst the dead bodies. I’d stayed mostly for Jayla’s sake. She’d been crying.

This is your fault. You should stay. Look into the eyes of every charred corpse. Think of what I did wrong.

“Hey—it’s okay. You can come. You did a lot for us, sorry for doubting you.”

Her tone had changed. I must’ve looked despondent. I put a hand to my cheek and felt warm wet tears dripping down. Shit. I didn’t want to make Jayla feel bad, or guilty. This was all my fault, for sitting down and putting pencil to paper. And I hadn’t—known the people who died, anyways, either.

Casselian offered her a small, wary smile. “You’ll get help for us?”

“Yes. I’m with the Ky’an’th United Liberators—I’m really on your side.”

He sighed, tilting his head back. “I wonder where you all were when they came for us.” He twisted around the fabric in his hands.

“Can I ask…what that is?”

“It belonged to a girl I knew. Jayla. Her clan was dead, and she was all alone when I met her…she was only twelve, thirteen. I tried to look after her, be the best influence I could be.”

“She’s dead?”

“Yes, she’s dead. I don’t know what it is but we just. Keep. Dying. Weird, isn’t it, Ms. Ry’san?”

“I’m—”

“Save it.” He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. “...I’m sorry. Please do what you can, for us as a group. Don’t worry about my life. Just the greater good for my people.”

“Naomi. Is your head okay?”

“Yeah.” I stood up dizzily. “Yeah, I’m fine. Your family…died, don’t worry about me.”

“Come with me.”

Jayla led me across the sand to a grouping of trees and rocks some distance away. The smell of smoke and burnt flesh was less strong here; the branches of the trees covered up the piercing sun and made my head feel better. I held onto Jayla’s hand to stay upright.

Click.

Where had that sound come from? I glanced around before noticing the muzzle of a rifle, pointing at me through the blades of a shrub.

“Stand down,” Jayla said. “Naomi helped us.”

The muzzle went away. A few seconds later, a tall, grim, Asan woman stood up, brushing bits of plant out of her hair. “Hey, Jayla.”

“Hey, Milo. Is everyone okay?”

“Shaken up, but alright. Are you alright?”

Jayla bit her lip and stared down at the ground.

“C’mere.” Milo opened her arms for a hug. Jayla fell into them, shuddering silently.

I took a step back. I wasn’t involved in this relationship, after all.

“Come sit down.” Milo led us through a rock arch to a small walled clearing. The twenty remaining Asan, including the kids, were clustered there, talking softly to each other.

When we came in, one of them looked up and said, “What happened?”

I related the situation from my perspective briefly. “...And then they fired. I didn’t stop them, I’m sorry.”

“I heard the explosion and came running,” Jayla said, looking at Milo, “even though you tried to stop me. There were two soldiers there, and we worked together to kill them. I don’t think there’s anything else. That’s all…everyone who was there got killed.”

Most of the Asan just looked solemn, like they’d already figured that out. An adult scooped up the two kids nearest them and hugged them tightly.

“We need to move,” Milo said.

“I…don’t want to fight anymore,” another Asan said.

“How could you—it’s our country! I want to fight more!” Jaden snapped.

The first speaker shook his head. “But I don’t want anyone else to die.”

“I don’t wanna die,” one of the kids said tearfully.

The first speaker gestured silently over to them.

“We can blend into the ethnic quarter for now,” Milo said. “Then decide what we want to do.”

Jayla’s ears flattened out to the side, tense. “Naomi can’t blend in there for long.”

“I’ll leave and go separately from you all,” I said. “It’s fine.”

“No—you’re injured, and didn’t you say you got found out as a spy? It’s not safe for you to go alone.”

“It’s not safe for you all, if you’re around me.”

“I don’t want you to die!”

“You barely know me.”

“Calm down,” Milo said. “The ethnic quarter isn’t very supervised. You can get some rest there, at least. Then go wherever you want.”

I gave a thumbs-up. “Sounds good.”