Ashes II

I stumbled through the tangle of buildings that made up the ethnic quarter—really the Asan ghetto, I thought, gritting my teeth. My original story had been set in the capital city—the imperial core—and I’d written the machinations of empire mostly from a distance. Of course, they wanted to separate the people they were oppressing from the people who helped to do that. I hadn’t had to go there; I’d just written what I thought about colonization and imperialism, which was that it was shit. And that had come mostly from wanting to write an evil empire for fun, as a kid who’d grown up with Avatar the Last Airbender and so forth.

The streets were thin, the buildings ramshackle, and, judging from an unpleasant smell in the air, the plumbing near-nonexistent. All throughout, though, Asan were sitting out on the street, talking to each other; kids were playing ball; stallkeepers were selling their wares. I overheard patches of loud, cheerful gossip—”So then I said to her, well you can’t ask him to spend all that time with you, he’s gotta work, the question is what’re you doing with only one partner?” “Well, some of us can’t get more than one!” “That’s what she said too, but I think you’ve just got to put yourself out there”—and conversation— ”Mama, he’s cheating!” “No I’m not, you’re cheating! She kicked it out of bounds!”.

I tugged the scarf further over my hair. Underneath, Jayla’d made a pair of mock ears that wouldn’t stand up to any scrutiny but created a silhouette that could fade into the background. I attracted the occasional glance, but no ones’ gaze lingered on me long.

We’d made those ears, tended to our injuries, then stopped back at the wreckage to salvage supplies, lay grave markers, and bury bodies. I’d stayed back again, but Jayla had pulled me forward; whispered to me the prayers I already knew—that I’d written—so that I could say them.

“Here.” Milo stopped at a tall clay building painted with a bright geometric mural. The facade had been given careful attention; a frieze had been created of different shapes and of long lines drawn in the clay, creating intricate mathematical patterns. The building itself had a long sweeping slope of a wall, high windows to let the heat out. There hadn’t been anything like this in the traders’ area; this was Asan architecture.

“Can we afford this?” Jayla asked.

“We’ll make it work.”

Milo knocked on the door and was greeted by a hotel employee standing at the desk, a well-dressed Asan. They talked briefly; Milo held out two of Jayla’s chickens.

Jayla drew in a breath.

“It’s alright,” I said quietly, taking her hand, “they can help you now instead of rotting.”

“I guess.”

I passed the money I’d earned from selling my clothes to Milo, which got me a terse nod.

Eventually, they reached an agreement. Milo handed over the chickens and several coins, and the employee led us upstairs.

There were beds of the same style that had been in the tent; pelts stretched on a bedframe. These ones were longer, wider, and taller. The employee told us to wait and then went to a storage room and took a few more beds out, easily carrying them by hand.

“Are you all from the country?”

“Yes,” Milo said easily, “we’ve been on a hunt till now, and are just coming back.”

“Any good catches?”

“Not really, unfortunately.”

“Y’know, I hear Ry’keth is talking about banning hunting out here.”

“Really? But they hunt too.”

“Only for us, of course,” the employee said. “Well, rest well.” She left.

“Let’s split up into rooms,” Milo said.

“We wanna be together!” one of the kids said, as spokesman for the group of them.

“Sure.”

Milo put me and Jayla in the same room as the children, as well as three other adults.

Once the door was shut Jayla said, “Pretty sure that she knew who we were.”

“I agree,” I said. “She’s not going to do anything about it, is she?”

“I don’t think so. You should rest.” Jayla did an I’m watching you gesture towards the kids, who giggled. “That means you guys shouldn’t be loud around her, got it?”

“Can we go down to the basement? I heard they have a big keli board.” Keli being a board game.

“Sure, I’ll take you.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “Don’t you feel—I mean—”

“Sure. But I can’t stop everything in its tracks to be upset, right?” She gave me a small smile with hollow eyes. “That’s what Cass would tell me.”

“I want to go back home. I wanna see what happened,” one of the kids said.

“Nope, let’s go to the basement. Doesn’t that basement seem more fun?” Jayla said.

My stomach stirred in uneasiness, but I decided to let Jayla do what she wanted. I found one of the beds and flopped down on it.

I was out like a light.

I woke up in Charleson Park.

Oliver was there. We were walking down the waterfront, that wide walk next to False Creek. He was talking to me about something—some video game. I took a deep inhale of breath. That salty smell wasn’t anywhere in Asania, and neither was the cool air of British Columbia’s early spring, which was currently sending goosebumps up my bare arms. Sleeveless, lavender, stopping just before my knees; I was wearing the dress Oliver liked the most, along with those distressed leggings we both liked. He was carrying my jacket. What a courteous guy.

“Ollie, can I have my jacket back? It’s pretty cold.”

“Eh? Why would I do anything for you? You killed me.”

“You’re going to be that way? You did it to yourself!”

“Just like how Jayla did it to herself?” Casselian asked, appearing on my other side. “Just like how I did it to myself?”

“Well; I—” Unsure what to say, I started walking faster to get away from them.

“We should throw her in,” Oliver said, grabbing my arm.

Casselian grabbed my other arm and kicked my feet out from underneath me.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Really, truly—“

The ground dropped out from under me. False Creek was suddenly a mile below. In jumping off a bridge, hitting the water was like hitting concrete; it’d break your head open immediately headfirst.

I closed my eyes tight—

And snapped awake.