Homecoming I

Jayla had told me a few things about where she was from. She’d liked it. It had been a small village made up of only Asan. She’d had a mom and a little baby brother. She got cagey when I asked to know more.

There were no signs of sapient life as we walked. With the Koteran clan, we’d gone from the semi-arid desert that covered most of Asania to savanna, and now on foot we were getting into the dry forest near the nation’s edge. There might be a border guard as we got into Ry’keth proper, but technically, we’d been in the empire’s territory this whole time, so probably not.

My skin was sticky with sweat, and my throat was stinging. We hadn’t given enough thought to water sources, and I was dehydrated and dizzy in this heat. Jayla was faring slightly better, but she’d told me that she felt like her feet were falling off, and I was pretty sure she’d been holding back on the amount of water she was drinking to give me more. We’d been making pretty slow time despite our route, and our bought provisions were running lower.

Another step, and a flock of ravens stirred up, flying away from us into the sky.

I spotted a patch of white feathers on its neck and said, “Don’t those ravens live up on the mountains? Wonder why they’re down here.” At least I didn’t feel like I was dying—I could hold a conversation.

Jayla shrugged.

“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, over many a something something volume of forgotten lore,” I quoted.

“A something something volume?”

“I didn’t remember the words.”

“You’re too old,” Jayla decided, “you’re going senile.”

“Hey, hey. I’d like to hear you remember the words of that poem.”

“That’s not a real poem, I’ve never heard of it.”

“That’s because you’re not from Canada.”

“Oh, that fake country that makes up fake poems? Sure.”

“It’s real!”

“Yeah, ye…” Jayla seemed distracted by something, trailing off in the middle of her sentence. She swallowed dryly.

“What’s up?”

“It’s nothing.”

Despite her words, she’d stopped in her tracks. She knelt down, picking up something from the ground. I leaned down to look at whatever it was.

She was holding a small handful of gray ashes. A breeze picked up and blew them out of her hand, leaving her with only faintly gray-tinged fingers.

“This place caught fire…someone set this place on fire?” I looked around. Up ahead, long trunks of trees with no leaves stood in relief. Shrubs and bushes grew, sure, but those leafless charred pillars were dead. Reminded me of the wildfires back home which would have the sun turned red for days.

“Yeah. It’s a border town, so of course yeah. A long time ago. But there might be some resources we can pick up from there, since we’re broke, so let’s go.”

I didn’t want to pry, so I just followed her lead. She must have been here before, or known someone from here.

It took us about forty-five minutes to get to the town. When we reached it, it was burned to the ground.

The air was cool, clean, and dry. The fires had clearly, like Jayla said, stopped a long time ago. In between those tall blackened trees, roofless clay homes with holes in the walls stood like Roman ruins.

War’d been here. I looked around on the ground, half-expecting to find an abandoned doll like in Mulan, but of course it’d been too long.

Jayla sank down to the ground and put her head between her knees.

Things started to click. Ten, eleven, twelve years ago, had Jayla been abducted from this place?

“Hey. Jayjay.” I knelt down beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. “We can leave. Let’s go.”

Jayla shook her head. “If we stay here we can sleep in a bed.”

“An old, burnt-up bed, sure.”

“It’s not that terrible here—! I’m sure there’s somewhere, really, that’s okay…”

“Maybe. But it’s been a long time since people lived here. We shouldn’t stay here, either.”

Jayla shook her head. “I want to. Come on, there’s a well over there.”

The bucket was rusty and the cover of the well was gone, but the pulley system to fetch water was still intact. The water was dirty but not more than a stream would be, and cold and refreshing.

While I was still drinking Jayla said abruptly, “I’m going to look for my house.”

So it was her hometown.

I followed her, to keep an eye on her in case she got overwhelmed again.

The ground was really covered in ash. Back then, they’d torched a village surrounded by trees in a dry area. Christ.

My eyes on the ground, I spotted a fresh footprint. Is that one of ours? I didn’t think we’d come this way before, but maybe I was wrong. Still. I wrapped my hand around the knife handle in my pocket.

Jayla ended up at a building with a clay frieze, like the hotel back in Yesau. She ran her hand over the bricks, then pressed her forehead to the wall for a long moment. Taking deep breaths.

Next, she stepped inside. A moment later, I heard her say, voice edged with tears, “There’s no one here.”

I took a cautious step into the tent. Jayla looked up at me, lip trembling: “There’s no bodies. I, I, I thought I was going to be able to lay them to rest. What happened to them?”

“It’s okay. Someone else must’ve done it instead.” I sat down beside Jayla and let her cry into my shoulder.

Voice muffled: “But I wanted to be the one to do it…what if it wasn’t a good person! What if, they all threw them into a mass grave or something…I wanted to be able to see my family again!” She gripped onto my sleeve. “Even if they’re only corpses, even if they’re dead…”

I let her cry, but eventually said, “Hey. You know, I saw a footprint here.”

She looked up at me. “What?”

“Yeah. A fresh footprint.”

“Of who?”

“Maybe the person who’s been burying the bodies. Is there another reason someone would come out here?”

“...No, probably not.”

“Do you want to go find them?”

“But what if they’re dangerous?”

I thought for a second before saying, “If they’re dangerous, we’re stuck here with them anyway. Might as well get the jump on them.”

So, following the footprints, we crept around the buildings.

The town wasn’t very big, and we ended up following those footprints into the woods.

Jayla held out a hand in front of me and pressed a finger to her lips. She whispered in my ear, “I hear a horse. Someone’s there,” and pointed up ahead.