Young Flame

It has been a few weeks since our interaction with the Kenna tribe and my ensuing tantrum. I don’t like to refer to it as such, as it makes me sound childish, but it was. I am embarrassed about how I acted, but Uncle has been more open with me since, so I consider the situation as positive.

I apologised to him when I made it back to the tribe, but other than a simple nod, he pretended like it never happened. Even though he acted this way, he has been willingly telling me things he would’ve refrained from mentioning before.

He explained to me what they had found on the bodies of those who had killed my mum. Expressing how we had confirmation that they were hunting áed. Most of what he told me I had already pieced together from the conversations I hadn’t been supposed to listen to. There were parts of what he told me I hadn’t known before. The weapons they used were strange, causing almost as much confusion at the beginning of the fight as the appearance of those able to wield water.

It was unfortunate that the weapons had been burnt too far for any of us to investigate after the battle was over. Uncle hadn’t been in the fight himself, so even he didn’t know what to think about the odd weapons.

We are travelling in the opposite direction we originally planned, now heading southeast. The elders shook the Kenna tribe down for all the information they gave away. All the destinations or routes we would have taken in the west were already leaked to the foreign hostiles. We could avoid the locations we know they might know about, but that would require us to travel for months without restocking. It is possible, considering our lucky haul at the chthonic mines, but extremely risky.

The elders decide that taking the path along the coast is safer. Mum, Uncle, and Pop always regaled the dangers of the coast and the ocean that lies beyond. They always pounded it into my head that there is no worse place to be than along the coastal region which puts you within breathing distance of the ocean. The terrifying tales only ever tempted my interest. So what if it is dangerous if it is new or unique?

Despite my own — secret — thoughts about the coast, it goes to show how dangerous this enemy group is if the elders would prefer to travel to the place of unending horror stories than to come in contact with them.

Our gers usually take about an hour to set up, but for the past few days, the elders have us practising setting up only one in as fast a time as we can. The elders are concerned about the possible rain that may occur at any time closer to the coast. They decide it will be better to have everyone crowd in one ger than to waste time constructing the others.

With our practice, we can get a ger up in a bit over a quarter of an hour if everyone is helping. For the sixteen remaining members of the tribe, it is a tight fit. But safety is worth a bit of discomfort.

While we expect to be forced through the coast eventually, we plan to avoid it for as long as possible. The path we need to travel has us following a line of cliffs that expands the length of the coast. There are few places to climb the cliffs, especially with wagons we need to take with us. Our intended route is to pass through a cave system that allows passage to the top of the cliff. After that, we will travel as far north as we can, out of the reach of the hostiles.

❖❖❖

I swipe my stick in a long strike from right to left, knocking Auntie's stick out of its path towards me. It continues its path down to the ground to my left and I take a step forward trying to take advantage of the opening. As fast as my hands can move, I bring my spear back before thrusting it forward into Auntie’s chest.

Auntie Kay doesn’t take it though, she takes a step back, keeping out of reach of the tip of my stick. I reach further, pushing my arms out trying to hit her as I lean in with my body. Unfortunately, it isn’t enough. Auntie moves to the side and swings her own stick into my side, making me stumble forward off balance.

“Olvy, you keep making the same mistake. Stop trying to force an attack, it’s making you overextend. If your attack doesn’t hit, pull back. Your defence should always be more important than your offence. It’s good to see you take advantage of openings, but do not open yourself to counterattacks.” Auntie Kay scolds as we reset our position.

I have taken Auntie’s advice about putting my thoughts into improving my spear training. She’d even started to spar with me, not going much further than a few attacks or blocks at a time. Auntie started showing me how to block or deflect attacks and then how to counterattack. I’m not very good yet, only able to do it when she slows her strikes. Slow her strikes more than normal, I mean. I’ve seen her training with her poleaxe, and I struggle to even see the weapon with the speed it moves in her hands.

Unlike before, where I had been jabbing at air, I can now feel myself getting better. Having a point of comparison makes it much easier to see if I am doing good. I can tell it will still be a while before I will actually be able to fight Auntie properly, but improvement feels good. And I enjoy sparring with her.

“Once more, Olvy. Don’t extend this time, just defend and counter. Defend then counter.”

❖❖❖

From all the stories I had been told about the coast, I expected it to be different to the wasteland we traverse. I expected to see an entirely new area filled with plenty of interesting wildlife, constant heavy rainfall and plants. Oh, how I’ve wanted to see what a plant looks like. Instead, I am disappointed to find that the coast isn’t that different from the desert. Sand as far as the eye can see. Ugh, the last thing I hoped for was more sand. The only thing that indicates that we have made it to the coast is the white splotches littering the sky to the south.

“How do we know if one of those will rain on us?” I ask my uncle, who is as usual, carrying his wagon beside me.

“They usually get darker before we need to worry. Also, we have a few days before we reach land where rain is even a possibility.” He replies. Why does he even bother to call this the coast? There isn’t anything different. Obviously, the actual coast is still to the south.

We’ve been travelling alongside the cliffs for days now, following it southeast closer to the ocean than most of the tribe is comfortable with. We expect to have to spend about two weeks travelling along the coast. Most are dreading the journey.

I feel a bit guilty about it, but I am excited to explore somewhere new. It’s disappointing that the coast doesn’t start with an entirely new landscape, but I’m holding out hope for something interesting closer to the ocean. I make sure my excitement is well hidden from everyone else though, I’ve already been told off by Uncle a few times for it. And he remains cranky for a while after if he thinks I’m still thinking about it.

Although, as much as I want to see something interesting, I know better than to go looking for danger. We wouldn’t have so many horror stories of water and the places associated with it if there isn’t something dangerous about it. So not only for the good of Uncle's stress, I suppress my curiosity and listen to my uncle.

❖❖❖

We have finally reached the dangerous area of the coast. Earlier today we’d had a scare where it looked like it would rain on us and we had our ger set up by the time it reached us. The shimmering wall reflected light as it approached from the south. The sky above darkened as dark grey clouds condensed and closed in above us. That was the last I had seen before Uncle snatched me up and forced me inside before we even finished setting up the ger.

Our preparation was needless. As the sound of rain approached, it gradually slowed before vanishing entirely. After the elders had called all clear, I walked outside only to see the dark grey sky had returned to its normal blue. It was as if there had never been rain to begin with.

The elders said it was the desert still protecting us from the rains. But I didn’t understand what that meant. How can the sand beneath our feet stop rain coming from the sky?

We packed up our ger and were on the move again soon after, treading over dry sand once again. Fortunately, other than that small scare, we hadn’t much need to worry about rain. The skies stay mostly cloud-free.

I notice in the distance a few odd shapes appear, all retaining the same colour as the sand they sit on.

When we get close enough to touch them, I realise it is a plant, the fabled growths that live outside the wasteland. Uncle, with me beside him, breaks off a piece and holds it out to me. “I’ve told you of plants before, yes? We call this type an acacia shrub. Do you see it is made of wood? This is where all wood comes from.”

Of course, I know wood comes from plants, but this is my first time seeing one.

“They made the ship from these plants?” I ask, shocked. How many of these plants would they need to make something that big? How do they keep it all together? The small bit of wood in my hand crumbles with barely a touch.

“No, they used bigger plants called trees. In areas with water, plants can grow freely. This also means that if we ever run out of sources of timber, we would have to expand our search outside the deserts, endangering ourselves in the process.”

I’m pretty sure I’d been told plants are mostly green, but the plant in front of us has the same hue as the desert that surrounds it.

I don’t think I could be more disappointed. I’ve been expecting huge looming trees with colours I could hardly imagine. But instead, I get this twiggy-looking sand shrub. The surrounding land is still barely different from what we always travel. I can only hope there will be some of these trees I’ve heard about or new wildlife to see. Hopefully, the coast has a lot more to show than these shrubs.

❖❖❖

Eldest Ember would be laughing down on me now if she was watching. When I asked for more, I meant variety, not quantity. Well, at least the land looks different than I am used to.

I cast my gaze around the dense shrubbery that now makes up the desert landscape. If only the acacia shrub wasn’t the only plant to see, it might have been amazing. The plant has turned out to be much more flammable than anything I’d seen before, having vaporised the moment I try to chew some. Only once had I seen anything burn up that quick and that was when Auntie Kay convinced Elder Cyrus into a competition of flame strength. The poor dingo didn’t last long under his blue flame.

Considering his flame is so much hotter than mine, I am curious what would happen if he had some of this shrub.

Actually, with how dense the shrubbery has become and how easy it is to ignite, we had a few accidents which caused a surprisingly fast spread of fire amongst the plants. It is only due to the fast reaction of a few tribesmen that it doesn’t spread before we stop it.

I wonder what it would look like if we let it all alight, I’m sure an entire landscape of fire would be amazing. I can feel a part of myself yearning for such a sight. The elders are decisively against it. They would rather keep the option as a way to protect us I think, in case we come across another of the groups tied to our family’s murderers.

We only have about a week until we expect to reach the passage, and so far we’ve been lucky to not have to deal with any actual rain. There were a few scares, but the clouds dispersed before they could reach us.

Although we were lucky not to have rain actually hit us, the constant setting up and taking down of our ger has cut into our travel time. It was decided that we need to extend the time we travel, so now we spend half the night moving as well. As much as I try to stay up with everyone, I always find myself sleeping on the back of Uncle’s wagon.

❖❖❖

The first time rain hit us, we'd already had a few gers set up for the night. I snap awake at the loud slam of the door. The thrumming sound of sand impacting the walls of the ger in the wind can be heard beneath the surrounding chatter. It is only when I shake off the residual sleep that I realise the ger is not fluttering as it would with a usual sandy breeze.

Looking at the worried faces of those around me is my indicator that it isn’t sand impacting the outer tarp of our ger. I look up at Uncle Rivin, who happens to be sitting beside me and ask for confirmation. “Is this rain?”

“Looks like it,” He says. “It’s not too heavy for now, so hopefully it lets up soon.”

I want to peek out the door. I wonder what the rain looks like, but the concerned expressions on my tribesmen’s faces stop me. It’s unlikely they’ll let me even approach the door. I look up at Uncle and see him watching me, his eyes narrow at me and he puts a hand on my shoulder, pushing me back down into bed. Yep, no getting past Uncle right now.

We have people tasked with watching the walls for leaks, but with how tense everyone is, it won’t be necessary. They’ll all be watching, anyway.

For now, I give up on any adventurous thoughts and snuggle into Uncle’s side as I once again fall asleep to the warmth of Kindling through my body.

❖❖❖

All in all, the trip through the coast wasn’t as bad as everyone kept saying it would be. While I can tell there is still some stress running around the tribe, it is mostly due to the little sleep everyone is getting. We aren’t too far from the cavern pass now. It should be amongst the rocks ahead. Elder Enya claims we will be inside the cave system within the hour, which is good because we have pushed later than usual into the night. We hope to make a proper camp once we are in the safety of the caves.

It’s been a rough few weeks of travel until this point and I can tell many are wearing thin. At least with the target in reach, we find the energy and excitement to make the final push.

We had luckily not had many occasions of rain. When it came, we had plenty of time to prepare ourselves. I never did get an opportunity to watch the rain though, other than seeing it in the distance. I was always the first to be hidden away inside and out of sight. Uncle somehow knew of my interest and wouldn’t let me out of his sight. It’s been kinda annoying. I’ve tried to sneak a peek out the front door a few times when I thought he was distracted, but he would always put a stop to it.

The land is currently bathed in the pitch-black darkness that always occurs before the ember moon’s appearance. The bright stars and our fires are the only light around. Usually, our tribe likes to keep a clamp on showing our flames unless in a fight, but the dark night between the white moon hiding and the ember moon’s appearance is much too hard to traverse without light.

I am walking with Auntie, for now, having already slept a bit in Uncle’s wagon while everyone walked. I’ve long since given up fighting against Uncle Rivin to let me stay up, especially when I find myself not remembering how I fell asleep half the time.

Auntie Kay once again helps me with my spear forms. Well, the forms that rely on movement at least. The constant walking prevents me from practising more stationary moves or styles, but Kay insists it is better than wasting our time. I spun my stick in the flowing motion Auntie taught me before pivoting into a thrust. A dim red shade is cast over my spear, and the landscape around gradually becomes visible as the Ember Moon finally reveals itself for the night.

The Ember Moon’s light sweeps the darkness of the surroundings and redefines them in a deep shade of red, like burning cinders. The Ember moon is the manifestation of the Eldest Ember and brings her protection and good fortune when it appears in the sky. It is a good sign to finish the last leg of our journey through the coast under her protective eye.

“What is that?” The question brings my attention to the direction of the ocean. I don’t know what I am looking at. It looks like a cloud but seems to cover much of the horizon to the south. The wall of cloud, tinted red by the moon, begins from the ground and covers much of the sky in the distance.

“That’s fog! How much time until we reach the cave?”

So it’s called fog? Must be similar to rain, everyone seems worried but no more than when we have to deal with rain.

“Be calm everyone, we are not far from our destination now. We will increase our pace for now, but we should have time to spare once we reach the pass.” Elder Cyrus reassures everyone. Following his words, the tribe picks up the pace. The faster clip means I can’t continue my spear training, so I throw my stick into the back of Uncle’s wagon alongside our gers and furs before running to Auntie’s side.

Casting my gaze back towards the fog, I can’t stop a chill from running through me. I’m not sure why, but it unnerves me. I was fine with the rain, even seeing the clouds coming never worried me. At most, I had been worried about being told off when trying to have a look at it.

But this cloud, or fog, something about it has me worried. Jitters in my leg make me feel like I should sprint away as fast as I can right now. Instinctually, I need to be as far away from that fog as possible. The feeling only gets worse the longer I watch it. I’m not the only one who feels this way, many of my neighbours toss fearful glances over their shoulders. The tension in the tribe seems to increase by the second.

Auntie Kay even seems to become worried. I always thought she wasn’t scared of anything. I’d seen her take on a Colossal-worm without batting an eye.

As I watch the fog, it looks a lot bigger than before. The wall of water seems to reach higher into the sky. With each step I take, the more it seems to spread.

“Is it getting bigger?” I ask Auntie. I think she already notices as well. She holds her gaze on the coming fog for a while before she responds.

“No. It's moving.” She says to me, before raising her voice.

“Cyrus, we should pick up the pace, it’s closing on us faster than it should be.” She calls to the elder.

He nods back before giving the order for everyone to rush. Auntie Kay picks me up as everyone increases their tempo to a jog. I resist a bit against her hold, not wanting to be carried again, but settle after I realise how worried she looks. I reach my arms around her neck and hold on.

With the fog approaching from our back right, I have the perfect view of it over Auntie’s shoulder. The loud breaths and heavy footsteps are all I hear as we run from the looming threat. The fog moves closer and closer as the minutes pass, covering more of the sky than ever.

I can see the point on the ground where the fog begins now, which makes it much easier to tell how fast it is moving, and the speed terrifies me. What would take us hours to pass, the fog passes in barely a minute.

There is a collective cry of relief when Elder Cyrus calls out. “The cave is in sight, not much longer now. Keep moving!” Elder Cyrus calls out. A few cheers ring out in response.

I feel Auntie pick up her pace as I jostle in her grip. She runs to the front of the tribe and I watch as the elders fall back to our rear. Uncle and those pulling the carts are assisted by their tribesmen, helping them to keep up despite the heavy weight.

The fog is closing in terribly fast now. The cliffs block the sky to the north and our south is cut-off by the impending wall of fog. We will be squashed between the two soon enough. In the distance, back where we came from, the fog finally reaches the cliffs. It doesn’t so much as slam into the wall as it consumes it. There is still some distance remaining until it reaches us, but we don’t have long.

I squeeze myself tighter into Auntie as I watch the fog rush closer to the back of our caravan. The elders unleashed powerful streams of flame, hoping to hold it off as long as possible.

Fighting water with fire is difficult, but the elders know what to do. They can’t have their inner flame in the fire that contacts the water at all unless they want it to be vaporised, which would be like cutting off an arm. The flames they create are flung forward fast and with intensity. They then cut their inner flame from the fire, leaving it to rocket forward and burn long after it has left their control. This prevents harm to themselves, but still helps to protect everyone from the encroaching fog.

The torrents of fire launched behind us do well to keep the fog at bay, but it doesn’t take long for it to push at our sides, edging ever closer. My arms stay clasping tightly around Auntie’s back as I tremble. I push my head into her neck to hide from the fog as it moves closer than ever.

My eyes are blocked, but I still hear when the others in the tribe throw their fire into the fog. I’m sure by now we would be completely enveloped in the fog. Only the fire being spent in all directions is keeping the terrifying vapour from reaching us.

A scream accompanying a sizzling noise rings out amongst the sound of the roaring flames. My head shot up only to see Elder Angarika recoiling in pain while steam rises from his affected arm. Others are quick to cover him and before long he returns to burning away at the fog.

I look behind me at the cave opening, we are so close now. If we keep our pace, we should be able to reach it in a couple dozen seconds. The fog already surrounds us and it becomes more apparent the further we go, we cannot hold off the fog for much longer. The only air we can breathe anymore is becoming filled with mist. I can feel my throat stinging. Holding my breath doesn’t help, it just makes the rest of my body burn instead. If this keeps up, our current situation will crumble.

It all seems hopeless until a fierce cry from the back of our scrambled caravan pierces through the roar of the blaze and the panicked shouts of my tribesmen. I watch in awe as the fire surrounding us begins to twist and writhe on its own. The fire engulfs us all as a clear, fiery path ahead of us is created. I feel poppy’s inner fire within the blaze, protecting us all.

Everyone rushes through to the cave opening. Looking back, I see Poppy being held up by Elder Cyrus, unable to completely hold his weight. The tunnel of flame lasts until he reaches the cave opening and others take over. They keep their flame streams burning through the fog trying to push into the cave system with us.

A bit of coordination between tribesmen allows a tarp to be set up over the narrow opening and allows everyone to rest.

I watch in hopelessness as Poppy collapses.