ã€ŠWild Childã€‹


 Chapter 1: The Orphaned

    Wildchild

    In a time of endless life and eternal beauty, there existed a sparkling world, a sight for all to see and envy.

    It was even envied by the stars! For you see, the future of mankind flourished without a twilight. The vast numbers of what we called humanity had become countless, settled on infinite planets -- hospitable or not -- throughout the galaxy. Within and without, the boundaries of our race were pushed beyond a mortal and moral limit long enough ago that it was forgotten where the line had originally been drawn.

    We were immortals. Expansion was essential for our kind.

    That didn¡¯t stop others from crossing arms and barring each other from going further. Everyone had their own agenda and sought to set it up high on their pedestal.

    Why was that human nature? Instinct?

    The best of the best were always what we sought in all of us. That was why we mated endlessly with those who appeared Godlike from the beginning of time and to the never ending. To have the greatest chance of survival, we discovered in ourselves the necessary genetics that would push our race to the next generation.

    Why would now be any different from then?

    That was how I thought when I looked out at a twinkling-blue colossus: Earth.

    I stared at the primal planet in a fascinated wonder. Not my homeworld, but the origin of our species. It was a pretty color... and the glittering lights of civilization were remarkable. I wished I could¡¯ve done more for that beautiful world. At least, to have more time...

    But it certainly was a great sight to behold before my demise --

    -- then the cabin of my ship was engulfed in a silent inferno. That would be the very last instant captured in my mind before I saw no more. But my mind still mulled over what if I had time...

    Was I lucky to have frozen before burning? Not when it was the vacuum of space that had been the cause. That void had shattered me in the process, just like the blue marble had when the destructive solar wave struck. Unlike the explosion of Earth, I had interestingly imploded rather than having burst into specks of tiny ice. And instantly melted in the consumption of an unstoppable aimless flame.

    My time, all those on that world, and countless others had vanished. All because an angry red sun enviously went supernova.

    <hr>

    Chapter 1: The Orphaned

    Dark.

    Thirsty.

    Starved.

    Tired.

    Cold.

    Hot.

    Pain.

    I stopped counting the negatives and searched for something positive. That was a tad bit difficult for an outstanding reason.

    I was distracted.

    A burning in my chest and an acute headache were a couple disorienting factors. There was a weight on my body; I felt crushed and wet where I was clothed. It had me confused about where I was. Because nearby a scorcher of incredible heat was practically cooking me! I would look, but a searing line of agony crossed my vision and left me in befuddlement.

    Those were odd sensations, but I did find a positive in all of that! If I had vision, that meant I could see. I only had to look and find the bright side!

    I attempted to shake my head, but I couldn¡¯t move. I wanted to rid myself of the troublesome nerves distracting me first so I could figure out my situation, but apparently I had to deal with my condition before that.

    ...I got it! I didn¡¯t need to be alerted to the pain anymore. I knew something had been damaged, but it was difficult to get a hold of myself.

    Like I wasn¡¯t -- myself?

    Honestly, I shouldn¡¯t even be...

    I mean, I had no existence. I¡¯d been vaporized! The last memory I had was being blown into stardust with the supernova. Well¡­ I didn¡¯t remember it exactly to that extent, but I was glad to have not consciously experienced that mindblowing event to the fullest.

    ¡­ouch.

    It was really getting on my nerves that I couldn¡¯t grasp what was wrong with my body. I should have been capable of self-regenerating the damaged tissue by now --

    -- unless my mind was damaged?

    Wait¡­ I¡¯m confused? I shouldn¡¯t have a body at all, but I was obviously thinking.

    How and why was I feeling anything? How was I experiencing confusion without a rational concept of thought? There was currently an issue of it being available. For one, for my consciousness to exist, it had to be contained in a squishy pinkening grey noodle, but my noggin had poofed into nothing with the rest of me. Right?

    Okay. Focus on that first. Pretend I have a brain and knit whatever had happened to it back to its original state.

    Then upgrade what most certainly was required to get the damn pain to stop!

    ...FUCK!! did that ever hurt.

    I jerked my head away from whatever was burning nearby. That was enough to tell me I had fixed whatever was broken upstairs. Next was to deal with deadening my nerves to a tolerable degree. All I needed was to know I was hurt, not blaring klaxons through my whole Goddamn system.

    ...much better.

    What was I dealing with? Head trauma? If so, must be severe. If I could whistle right now, I would in the deepest gratitude I could recall how to regen.

    Now that I had a grasp of where my head was, I could twitch and search out through those controlled nerves what was the matter¡­

    Yowch and ew. Something had partially cleaved through my head.

    That¡¯s an easy fix.

    I was rather cold from the blood loss, but I worked on getting my lungs back in motion... On second thought, I¡¯d leave that to my autopilot -- once I get that smooth baby programmed. That way all I had to worry about were the cognitive functions.

    The burning I had felt in my chest had escalated when I began to breathe again. Other organs in my body had sparked brilliantly back to life.

    My hearing came next. I hadn¡¯t realized I¡¯d been deafened by the blow to the head until my autopilot recovered the rest of my senses. Everything was still dark, but I could sense whatever was going on --

    -- I wasn¡¯t alone.

    There were hysterical shouts and desperate screams all around me. Crackling too. Like that of a fire.

    A big one.

    And so much unfiltered chaos of frantic running and so many smashing noises. What confused me most was the raised and faded noises going by. Was I moving?

    I doubted it when I considered my recent condition had been death, but I tried to wiggle around and find out if I was a reanimated corpse or something¡­ a zombie?

    Nope. Thank God!

    Whatever was the cause of motion had halted and a harsh light blinded me. It was so bright! The light made me jerk away in agony and cry out. ¡°Ah!¡±

    My voice sounded weird, but I wasn¡¯t surprised. My head had only been put back together a moment ago!

    What did surprise me was the sound I heard above my cry. I heard sobbing above me.

    A vise crushed my midsection into a pillowy softness. It took some effort, but I looked up to see what was squishing me. Cool tears were blurring my vision -- not surprising considering my painfully obvious condition. So I reached up and wiped my eyes clear.

    What I saw was a scrunched up and crying face. A pretty woman¡¯s face. She was literally bawling her eyes out as she looked down at me. Despite her sniveling over me and dripping tears onto my face, she expressed a joy that was beyond relief. Then I was blinded again as she crushed me even further into her large chest.

    Wait a second. Was she carrying me?

    I gave a soft kick to figure out how far off the ground I was. My bare toes hit her at once, so I changed tactics and felt around with my toesies and soles. I felt smooth fabric, something that was broad and tied tightly around -- that was her waist. So that would be a sash I felt.

    Then I drew my leg up and my heel hit her elbow. Was she cradling me?

    How small was I? Why was I small? What in the world was going on here?

    It took a lot of effort to free my face from her buxom bosom. When I had accomplished that, I got a good view of the sky above our heads. It was light blue... with a ring of fluffy white clouds that reminded me of the Helix nebula, but that was only because it was mostly surrounded by an obscuring smokescreen.

    In the corner of my vision, I could see the cause of smoke: fire everywhere. The flutters of motion that blurred by my stinging vision were those people I heard running. Not one appeared to stop and all were going in the same direction.

    Except us. And I began to understand what had happened when she jerked a step forward and gave me a stunned look. How she looked at me left me startled and confused.

    A shuddering breath escaped her lips. For far too long, she breathed only out like an air leak. Any time she tried to inhale, she choked. She could only exhale until the corners of her lips turned blue.

    Then the sky had a different perspective, like it had spun for a moment, but really it was the woman toppling over on top of me.

    I was trapped under her heavy and shaking figure. She spasmed a few times, but I felt her seize up firmly with determination as she pulled me more beneath her.

    Breathlessly, I barely heard her final demand: ¡°S-stay... stay.¡± Then she was still. Dead.

    I knew now why everyone was running. They were on the run from death. But I didn¡¯t have a clue what was the cause of it. If I could, I would have looked out from under the woman to see what was behind everyone. Problem was, I didn¡¯t have the strength!

    I was puny!

    Maybe from starvation? When I wiggled my little fingers in front of my face, I second guessed that theory. Being beneath the woman was impairing my ability to see myself and everything else around here.

    Not a moment longer and I didn¡¯t have to look for me to know something was approaching. A lot of somethings. They shook the ground under us.

    Pressing my ear to the dirt was easy, but discerning what I heard was difficult. It sounded like thunder, but unlike any I¡¯d heard before. Normally vehicles or some heavy transport would cause that, but these weren¡¯t any kind of wheels or treads I¡¯d ever heard of before. From the sound of their approach, they rumbled across the earth at great speed too.

    They sounded like stomping. Or rather¡­ clopping?

    A weird noise went by me. Definitely a creature. An animal. Then a herd or swarm of them. All of them were the cause of the loud quaking.

    There was also hooting and shouting coming from those animals. Wait, I was wrong. On top of the animals. People were with them. On them?

    Whatever was going on, it was weird.

    Squirming my way to see better, I managed to poke my head out from under the arm of the woman. The sight I saw was intriguing.

    Brown and black sleek fur. Four long and tapered legs that ended in a single shoe like an overgrown stubby toenail. Great darker mane of hair whipped in the wind, much like their swishing and brushing long haired tail. Strong and long-snouted necks with an equally long face that bit and gnashed at a brittle between their teeth. They had straps, reins, harnesses, and more attached to their horizontal broad bodies with riders in the saddle.

    Saddle¡­ Oh! These were horses! I¡¯d heard of those.

    The riders, all men -- horsemen -- wore dresses? Armored dresses that covered more of their legs than they had ascending up their bodies. They would have a difficult time walking in that. I suppose the protective design was to be more efficient while riding rather than on foot?

    Protective¡­ I believed these were warriors of some sort. They did appear to be wielding weapons of some kind. Staffs with an elongated slender tip. I couldn¡¯t call that a spear. Definitely a missile.

    Javelin?

    Why was my head being filled with that knowledge? The longer I looked on, the more knowledge of what I saw came to me. I could confirm these were warriors with my new-found knowledge. Soldiers, to be more precise.

    A vanguard of a host that came to cause trouble.

    But why?

    It took a moment, but then I figured it out. A diversion. They were drawing out someone to distract them from a bigger target. Another host that was charged to defend the whole region. I was in only a tiny location of that region.

    As these soldiers passed and left me behind, I struggled out from under the dead weight of the woman.

    ...my mother?

    I shook my head a few times to clear my thoughts. I was so confused. I still didn¡¯t know what was going on.

    What shocked me more was my figure in the light of day. I was a child! Blackened, bloody, but formerly blue robes had been wrapped around me securely. My skin tone wasn¡¯t the same as my original fair-colored body. A sort of golden-hued complexion. The sight of my skinny body had me concerned enough to explore myself and discover more of who I was...

    But all that should¡¯ve mattered right now was to find safety. Right here was not safe. Especially as the fires lifted higher, hotter, and came far too close to me.

    To us.

    As I managed to stand up at last, I saw what had struck down¡­ struck down my mother. Between her shoulder blades was one of those javelins. That explained the jerk I¡¯d felt in her arms, that shocked expression, and her last odd breaths.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    My hands shook. I took one hand in a tight grip while I bit down on my lower lip. For some reason, tears welled up to blind me again. I had thought I¡¯d taken care of numbing the pain, but the agony I felt right now was through the roof! It felt like my chest was going to cave in.

    I¡¯d never experienced a pain like that. But I¡¯d had a taste of fire once and those fires were almost to us.

    I didn¡¯t know what to do as I was, small and weak. But I simply could not stay here.

    In a farewell to this woman -- those thoughts of her as my mother were troubling me -- I knelt down, patted her head, and combed back her elegantly beautiful, long, and shining black hair until it was straight and neat.

    The wooden stock of the javelin in her back was in the way. Memories of how her hair once was flooded my mind. I couldn¡¯t help it, I had to fix her tousled hair or I wouldn¡¯t find peace after leaving her.

    With trembling hands, I gripped the javelin tightly and used all of my strength to tear. In a shuddered huff, I fell back, frozen stiff. With the overlong stake removed from her, all I could do was stare at the woman and expect the impossible. I literally thought she would be fine now that the javelin was out.

    I knew better.

    After I recovered, I crawled onto my hands and knees and reached out. A moment was all I gave to her to adjust an intimately familiar hair over that ugly hole. The blue native dress she wore was stained a dark red, but I left her like that.

    I took the javelin without thinking.

    Inside of my strange new heart, I felt a fiery rage grow hotter than the flames around me. Those soldiers would pay for what they¡¯d done.

    But why? I didn¡¯t know who they were or why any of what happened was¡­ well, happening!

    But I hated them. Wasn¡¯t that all that really mattered?

    There was no rhyme or reason for why I should. I was a stranger here.

    Yet I intimately knew the who and how what was before their arrival.

    My home burned.

    My family murdered.

    In an instant, I violently shook my head to find clarity! I was dead! Dead, until an anomaly in that particular supernova did something really weird. It must have caused me to be launched into a child. A child with the same disposition as mine: deceased.

    Except I would have been lucky if I had been atomized into dust in the coldness of space. Likely nothing remained of me after the solar catastrophe.

    The child was a different story. And yet there was a problem being a kid.

    I wasn¡¯t capable of doing anything about what had happened here. Those had been soldiers. Riders with weapons that could be thrown at a range before I could come close. Even if I had been in their faces, what could I do?

    There was a strange new voice in me. A burning hatred that germinated and grew stronger the longer I remained doing nothing, and told me to do morbidly malicious things to those soldiers. To kill them before they reached and slaughtered all those who were running.

    Just like they had done to my mother.

    Could I catch up to them?

    Gritting my teeth tightly together, I recovered some of my composure. My thoughts swayed back to --

    Hold on a fucking moment! What was I going to do if I did? I was a kid!

    A suicidal kid. Jesus! No wonder the brat was dead...

    Take a lesson from me: look before you leap. How many soldiers were there? Twenty, right?

    At least, that was how many I¡¯d seen ride past me. Who knew how many more there were in that vanguard. Not to mention how far away the host was from my destroyed village.

    Their village! THEIRS! Why was I still on a tangent about the kid¡¯s identity?

    I took a deep breath. Then another, another, and another. I calmed down and worked out what were my thoughts and separated them from the child¡¯s.

    I¡¯d acquiesced to whoever¡¯s personality was in my mind, but I would be the dominant consciousness. The kid could support memories and hand off whatever knowledge I required.

    Thinking back, my mother didn¡¯t regenerate like I could. Was that because of the shock or didn¡¯t she know how? Did that apply to those soldiers?

    Something to test.

    Did that mean I was committed to the child¡¯s cause? I could simply run off and gather more information about what all was happening. What had happened.

    But that again meant the deaths of all those who were running from the soldiers that killed my mother!

    ...I crossed the Rubicon.

    First challenge was for me to catch up! That meant in more way than one.

    I let all the air in my lungs escape and learned the best method to breathe with a small body. Then I started to walk. I got a feel of moving around for the first time with these thin legs. And I went at a sprinting pace before I exerted myself at full throttle.

    To chase after those horsemen, I had to ignore the limits of my new body.

    With psychotic strength, I immediately pulled and tore apart the muscles in my overextended legs from an unrestrained speed. I had no choice but to stop. I couldn¡¯t move!

    I knitted the flesh of my legs back together again.

    Tried to run again. And knit again.

    And both done again until the act became muscle memory. Something my auto-pilot handled without a thought involved anymore.

    After that painstakingly long session, it became easier to run at that constant mad dash. It certainly helped made up for lost time. The distance was still great, but I might be able to reach them in time to stop any more killing of my people.

    My people? Who exactly were considered my people?

    I would have to work that out later. Maybe when I found peace?

    I had a massacre to prevent first if I wanted peace. Otherwise I¡¯d have felt like I hadn¡¯t tried when I might¡¯ve been able to accomplish something.

    Up ahead, I heard and then saw horsemen. Right now would be the time to come up with a rational plan. We were out of the inferno and on a field. To the left was a large slope that was blanketed with trees. On the right was just more fields.

    Farmland? That made some sense.

    What was beyond the vanguard? Villagers¡­ I know that! Where are they heading?

    Water? A stream, lake, river..? A river that snaked around the other side of the slope to pass the farmland and flow toward a major settlement.

    A city? The villagers were going to make an attempt crossing and racing down along the other side of that river to that city.

    They won¡¯t make it. We were already at the slope and the horsemen won¡¯t be long until they reach the mass crossing. My people will die¡­

    The kid flared up with a score of emotional turmoil and snapped so hard that I was thrown for a loop!

    Inside me, something burned through and had broken free: a feral animosity. My breathing had ceased. My jaw made a cricking and cracking noise as it tensed from the wide open cry I had been about to let loose.

    Then I screamed like a banshee.

    And I panted and gasped for air as I charged straight and true at those soldiers. Blood rushed through me with a potent surge of adrenaline.

    At least four of the riders had yanked back on their reins to spot my inhumanly fast approach.

    At least one of them was going to be the subject of my experiment.

    The javelin in my hand was thrown -- again without any thought of it being in my possession. I watched it sail until I saw the slim wooden flier disappear before my eyes. I knew it had hit one of the soldiers because he jerked back from the momentum.

    The man hadn¡¯t appeared to be fazed --

    -- but only for a moment. The horse he rode had strangely collapsed. He didn¡¯t slide off, but he did curl up onto his side and clutch his stomach.

    While that beast of burden was down, and the other three horsemen had a moment to recuperate from shock of what I had done, I was dealing with an acute pain in my shoulder.

    Apparently my shoulder had dislocated when I hurled that javelin.

    I rolled and shoved at my shoulder and arm until the regeneration kicked into the joint. With a sigh of relief, and more knowledge on how to fix that kind of injury, I saw something of interest ahead of me. It was how my javelin had embedded itself in the soldier.

    He was trying to wrench free from the back of his horse''s long head!? The tip of the javelin stuck out of the horse¡¯s mouth like a pointed tongue.

    Yuck! I didn¡¯t intend that to happen!

    Now that I had an inkling of what I could do, I worked on my awareness to not let my rage go out of control. Obviously that wrath didn¡¯t prioritize precision or care for anything other than killing those soldiers. Everything else was in the way.

    If I went berserk like that again, such as near the villagers, my own assault would endanger innocents. I had to keep control or the collateral damage would be horrendous in my vengeance.

    Vengeance? Again I had to reassert how I was a stranger here, despite how I felt otherwise. Memories and knowledge were acceptable from the child, but these tremendous emotions overwhelmed me and were unwelcome.

    That caused me to move onto another experiment: emotional control.

    Unlike me, the three other riders snapped out of it and didn¡¯t appear to have the same issue with getting angry like me. And they appeared to seek revenge.

    They charged at me and tossed their own javelins before they reached over their shoulder for more.

    I quickly counted. In reserve, there were a total of three javelins in their quivers.

    As for the javelins zeroed in on me, I managed to dodge one, but I gagged when the other two struck true. One stuck out of my empty tummy. The other had grazed my hand -- when I instinctively tried to wrench out the bellyache. After it had scored my hand, the missile had jabbed its tip into my hip, but bounced out and clattered to the ground.

    I guessed that one had hit bone? The thought of that caused me to shudder.

    Breathing in once, I concentrated and forced my regeneration to be faster. Quickly now, so I could use the javelin I¡¯d just now ripped out of my stomach, and the one I¡¯d picked up off the ground, effectively before I was run down.

    A few seconds was all took me to heal that time. I was improving at regenerating. With a grin, I gripped both javelins by the middle and shoved them up under my arms.

    The three horsemen split, but still charged me as I ran at them --

    -- and leapt from the ground onto the broad breast of one horse that galloped straight at me.

    I smacked off of the charger, but not before I had let go of those two javelins. I blindly gored the rider. I knew that because I¡¯d hit him in the shocking impact with his horse and felt the vibration go through my thin arms when I struck his armor and ran him through. If they hadn¡¯t pierced him, those javelins would have dropped and clattered to the ground. And most likely that soldier wouldn¡¯t have fallen off his horse just now.

    But now I felt woozy. When I fell, I heard and sensed a crunch when I bounced off the ground. I had accidently tried to break my rebounded fall by reaching out to the ground.

    I recovered from my break within seconds. I Impulsively laughed at my arm¡¯s quick fix! How long until I could instantly heal?

    But I had an issue that sobered me right up. I was out of stabbing things and I had two more riders to deal with!

    Scrambling on the ground, I moved fast on all fours. I clumsily kicked back up onto my feet and glanced at one of the riders. He had pulled on his reins to circle sharply back around -- sacrificing his momentum for that quick turnabout.

    Glancing the other way, I raced towards the second horseman¡¯s rear. Both horsemen were yet to turn around fully. That second rider happened to be angry at me for jumping up and climbing on his back to meet him. He drew out a wickedly long blade. Not as sharp as I would have expected.

    While he tried to throw me off, my mind was fed more knowledge and I sort of understood the concept of that sword. Thicker and duller to be more sturdy for a charged swipe. If it had been thinner and sharper, it could snap.

    He swung the blade behind himself and at me, snapping me out of my observation.

    Despite the blade not being too sharp, it was still dangerous!

    He had armor; I didn¡¯t! What I had was some kind of blue robe. And I wasn¡¯t sure I could reknit severed limbs onto a kid¡¯s body, so I hopped off the instant he flashed that menacing sword at me again.

    After I rolled on the ground and hopped back up, I ran as fast as I could to the soldier who was curled up around his horse¡¯s skewered head. Kneeling down by him, I saw that he wasn¡¯t alive any longer -- that was a good thing for him and me.

    The kid gave me morbid thoughts, not sadistic ones for these soldiers.

    The sound of the fast-approaching horses alarmed me. I fumbled with the dead soldier¡¯s sword in a panic. The two horsemen sounded like they had come up right behind me.

    I bit hard into my bottom lip and tasted the coppery tang of blood on my tongue. My hands steadied and gripped the sword¡¯s handle. Once the sword was free from his scabbard, I held it up --

    -- and found a problem: it was too heavy for me.

    But that wasn¡¯t the only issue here! When I raised the sword up, I finally took notice that we were being watched by the rest of the horsemen. I stared back at the assembly of soldiers and wondered for a few seconds how they must have perceived a kid like me. I had already taken down two of their heavily armored riders and still held my own against two more.

    I suppose if I was in their position, I¡¯d stop and watch the incredible scenario unfold too.

    Focus! Those two hadn¡¯t wandered back with their group of friends, which meant I had to keep vigilant or lose my head. When I looked at the two horsemen, I saw their murderous intent in those dark eyes¡­ so I reflected the look right back at them!

    I ducked just in time as the second horseman¡¯s sword swished over my head. The other soldier barked some kind of curse at me before he removed another javelin from over his shoulder.

    Thinking fast, I crawled over the horse and used its big round belly to wall myself off from the horsemen -- the two that remained and the twenty-some that still watched. As the two maneuvered around the dead horse¡¯s carcass, I held the sword up to face against the second horseman while I¡¯d have to possibly endure another javelin in the back. In a pincer, the horsemen picked up their pace in a sudden burst of speed.

    And charged when I was in their line of attack.

    That second horseman -- on my left -- swiped his sword at me again, but aimed and struck my borrowed blade hard enough to send my sword flying out of my delicate little hands --

    -- while at the same instant on my right, the other horseman leaned down so low as to ram a lancing blow with his javelin someplace too close for comfort next to my spine.

    I was launched in the air a few inches and smacked off of the horse¡¯s belly. Sliding down to my knees, I hiccuped for air as I blindly felt around my back to reach for the object impaled in me.

    I knew going against these guys was suicide!

    Not having any luck from behind, I had a better idea on how to remove the javelin. The tip poked out from under my ribs, so I thought I could just pull it out the long way.

    That was the most sickening sensation I had yet felt so far out of all the other wounds I¡¯d sustained. And I only managed an inch or so coming out of me. I clenched my eyes shut and dug my slender fingers in deeper until I had a sure grip. A shuddering gasp later, I ripped it out of me fully.

    After I registered that it was thoroughly out, I reknit the wound. I felt jittery and sick, but managed to stand up. Now that I had a weapon in hand --

    -- I realized it was useless. I saw that the rest of those twenty-some horsemen had decided to finally join the party. I watched as I was entrapped in an encirclement.

    What could I do? I took one pointless step back and was blocked by that big belly of the dead horse. The horsemen rode around me with those javelins held in a surer grip than mine high over their head and shoulders.

    All aimed down at me before the first of them commenced the shower of splinters. I wished I could dodge all of that!

    One after another, they sent their missiles flying at me. Most hit, and I instinctively shrieked as I was being pinned to horse, ground, and even to myself. My hand stuck onto my thigh when I tried -- by impulse -- to free my staked leg.

    When I stopped moving, they rode off. I supposed they were done when they thought I was dead? Of course, they had a village population to massacre. Why would they bother wasting any more time with a kid?

    I could only hope that they were too late and the villagers were already making headway along the river.

    Meanwhile, me being left incapacitated and stuck like a pincushion, I thought I might as well be dead. Who would free me? No one from the village would be here and all of those soldiers had ridden off...

    Then I noticed only one of them had stayed behind.

    He was decorated, unlike the rest of those soldiers. He approached me and stared down with disbelieving dark eyes. It was like he was disgusted and in awe at the same time. Not exactly knowing how I appeared to him, I would give him the benefit of the doubt that I probably was a complete mess.

    ¡°What are you?¡± he hacked out in a baritone voice, in a language unlike any I¡¯d ever heard before, but I somehow understood him. At least, I thought I had? Improbable, but it was possible I had misheard and thought I understood what was said... maybe? To be certain, I kept quiet and waited to hear him speak again. ¡°Girl, I asked you a question.¡±

    Girl? How the Hell could he tell I was a girl when I was me and I couldn¡¯t even tell!? Maybe the blue robe I wore was meant for women?

    ¡°I asked you a question! What are you!?¡± He was shouting at me now! Like that was going to make me talk...

    Could I speak? I gave it a shot: ¡°Hi?¡±

    ...that was certainly a girl¡¯s voice. Without expressing it, my scalp tensed as I mentally cringed.

    He withdrew the sword at his hip and brought it across his chest in preparation to swipe at me. Likely my head. ¡°Don¡¯t test my patience any longer, girl. What. Are. You?¡±

    I had to think fast. He wasn¡¯t about to believe me if I explained to him the mystery of my existence. And if I told him I didn¡¯t know -- my head would roll.

    Maybe if I lied?

    ...why?

    Instead of giving him an answer, I questioned him. ¡°What am I?¡±

    My response appeared to have caused him to hesitate. He lowered his sword down a hair and asked me another question. ¡°Why are you here?¡±

    There were two reasons my mind quickly came up with: vengeance and rescue. I didn¡¯t appreciate the vengeance so much, but the idea I could save the villagers appealed to me.

    ¡°Save village.¡± That sounded good enough, if a bit curt. Did I have a limited vocabulary? I shouldn¡¯t. My head was patched up and in working order.

    ¡°Will you cease your hostility against us if we turn back?¡± Was he negotiating?

    I supposed I understood that. I was damn difficult to kill -- if not impossible. Who was there to tell him I wouldn¡¯t rise back up to hunt them down one-by-one?

    Anyways, after he offered, I eagerly nodded in acceptance.

    And¡­ he just stared at me. For a moment, I wondered if he understood what I meant when I nodded.

    So I told him: ¡°Yes.¡± And yet he continued to look at me for a long time. There were so many stakes through me that I feared the blood loss would cause me to faint before he would acknowledge me.

    ¡°Very well.¡± A shuddering sigh of relief escaped me as soon as he said that.

    He grabbed a hold of something odd on his back. Unlike all the other men, he didn¡¯t have those javelins. What he held was a flattened rod, curved, with a strip of sinew between both ends.

    A bow? Yes. That was a bow. On his hip, those were arrows in his quiver.

    He drew a strange kind of arrow and aimlessly fired up in the sky. A shrill whistle soon followed its trail before the noisy arrow disappeared into the distant smoke.

    In a few minutes, I almost nodded off and blacked out before I felt and heard the approach of riders. Many more riders than before. Possibly fifty? A hundred?

    I didn¡¯t bother counting when more showed up.

    The decorated man gestured down at me and a number of soldiers dropped from their horses to approach me. Then I saw rope.

    ¡°Hey!¡± The first loop went around my neck, but so did a gag over my mouth when I was about to protest again. The nearest soldier yanked me off of the dead horse with such force that I fell forward. By reflex, I struggled as I was yanked back up onto my feet by the rope around my neck.

    As I stood, I felt a bit of relief when they began to remove the javelins. They turned me around and secured me in bonds around my wrists. Thankfully, they left my legs alone.

    Then I had a sack pulled over my head... that effectively blinded me. I supposed they didn¡¯t want me to see where they were riding off to? That made a whole lot of sense, because I wouldn¡¯t be able to immediately follow after them or tell any of their enemies the general direction they rode off to.

    ...I was wrong.

    Those soldiers picked me up and carried me. Then I was laid on my back -- down over what felt like one of their horses. I felt them fiddling with the rope around my neck. It went slack, but I wasn¡¯t sure why. I couldn¡¯t see, so I didn¡¯t know how yet.

    I realized the worst when I found how they¡¯d retied the rope around my neck. Once they tightened it up against my throat, it felt like they had secured the other end to the neighing horse¡¯s own neck or reins. Either way, our heads jerked together and I choked each time.

    A muffled cry left my lips and I tried to squirm closer to the horse¡¯s head. Then I felt hands on me. They turned me over to lay me on my stomach.

    The horse began to move. My legs instantly bowed down and over the back of the horse to hold on for dear life. If I fell, I¡¯d hang and be dragged over the ground until I got back on my feet. If I could get back up.

    I was experiencing flashes in my darkened little world in the hood. Not long now until I would faint. I kept deathly still after I figured that out.

    It had sounded like I was to be with the entire vanguard. The cacophony of clopping hooves told me that much. When I felt our return to the conflagration that had once been my village, I felt a sense of relief that they were holding their end of the bargain.

    My people would live.

    My emotions got the better of me as I thought about that. Tears ran down my cheek and soaked through the hood onto the horse¡¯s mane. For now, I was filled with joy for that victory.

    But my tears became bitter when darkness remained my only company.

    If I cried, it was because I was in trouble. What if they eventually decided it was best to execute me? How would they go about doing that? The flames of my village offered me one possibility.

    My terrible imagination ran wild. Was that because I was a kid?

    ...at least it wouldn¡¯t matter in a few minutes. I reached my limit and passed out.

 Chapter 2: The Captivated

    Chapter 2: The Captivated

    While I slept, I dreamt of the man I once was.

    We were working on a Dyson sphere -- which would have taken another decade to complete. My mind was fuzzy on which sun it was, but I remembered it had been one of the bright stars that made up the Southern Cross constellation.

    But that changed when we got word of our imminent destruction¡­

    <hr>

    Since the hall was brightly lit, I had to move and hold the holovid in a dark corner that I made all the darker with my large frame. A holographic projection of a cutely dressed teen was dancing around in a looped recording. There was music in the background, along with her melodious song being sweetly and powerfully voiced by the nanite amplifiers -- but I had it on mute.

    I was supposed to be working, not gawking at a pretty girl!

    Honestly though, I was more afraid of the impression anyone would have gotten if they¡¯d seen me. What I truly was gawking at was her dress. The skirt had been a new nanite fashion that acted like water. A brilliant blue with a foamy-white to it, she would twirl around and let the tiny particles of nanites splash everything surrounding her. Since her dress was coded to contain an exact number of nanites, she never lost a single ¡®thread¡¯ of her skirt.

    It was cool!

    That hadn¡¯t been the only awesome feature to her dress. Every time she sashayed or swirled her body around in circles, the programmed fabric would shift and bare skin ever so subtly as if she truly had a liquid dress on. I had to wonder how much time I¡¯d have to put in before there were enough credits to my name to get me one of those?

    Likely never in a million years. That dress was the pop idol¡¯s signature dress and any likeness would be skyrocketing as she rose in fame.

    I sighed and pocketed the holoprojector.

    ¡°What was that?¡± I froze immediately at the disapprovingly firm sounding voice of that query.

    With a guilty grin, I turned slowly around and played ignorance: ¡°Uh, nothing?¡± Then I saw who it was and let out my intense relief in an incredulously bellowed sigh. ¡°Nathaniel, did you have to give me a heart attack?¡±

    Nathaniel broke out with a laughing smile and ended up slapping me on the shoulder. ¡°It was in good fun. You know how much I enjoy seeing you smile, and that was perfect.¡± When he said that, I dropped the grin and gave him a deadpan stare. ¡°Aw, c¡¯mon! Don¡¯t go back to your gloomy depression already. I just got here!¡±

    For him, I put on my smiling mask. ¡°There, happy?¡±

    He leaned in under my nose with his goateed chin held between his fingers.

    Was he inspecting me?

    Then he made an uncertain observation before asking: ¡°I¡¯m not so sure. Are you?¡±

    I kept up the smile and nodded to acknowledge how ¡®happy¡¯ I was to see him. He was a cool guy and I liked hanging around him, but sometimes he¡¯d annoy the living shit out of me when he¡¯d sneak up like that. I wasn¡¯t the only one he¡¯d do that to, either, and that was what annoyed me most. I¡¯d be found guilty of being a prankster like him by association!

    Now it had nothing to do with scaring people. The problem lay with Nathaniel¡¯s impersonation of our superintendent. It would be fine if he¡¯d stuck with our supervisor¡¯s likeness, but the bigger honcho was by far a Scrooge. No fun allowed at all and that went double when making fun of him.

    So we¡¯d get into trouble quite often. Nothing in the policies forbade Nathaniel from doing crap like that, but still¡­ I didn¡¯t like getting yelled at for something I didn¡¯t do. Which then would have led to me being pointedly told I could have said something earlier to stop Nathaniel.

    He was my friend. I wasn¡¯t going to rat him out.

    But I would keep an eye on him and attempt to prevent any more unsuspecting victims from being harassed. I got an idea and decided to lure him into it. First, to answer his question. ¡°Here. Let me show you.¡± I pulled the holoprojector out and clicked it back on for him to see.

    He smirked up at me. ¡°Damn, she¡¯s a cute one. I¡¯d hit it.¡± So far, so good. I baited him by just rolling my eyes. ¡°Oh, what? You wouldn¡¯t?¡±

    That was too easy. I gave him a silent nod. When he raised his brow at me, I said, ¡±Sure I would --¡±

    ¡°¡®Sure I would,¡¯ he says.¡± He had that smirk on his face grow an extra inch longer. Mentally, my smile was bigger than his.

    ¡°Fine. I wouldn¡¯t, but it¡¯s because she¡¯s not my type.¡± That was true. I couldn¡¯t outright say what my type was, but it wasn¡¯t her. There were a few women who did look appealing to me, but I never understood what they had that many other women did not. Maybe it was because they¡¯d been way out of my league? But that didn¡¯t explain my lack of interest in the pop star here. ¡°Look, I know what you¡¯re thinking and I¡¯ll get this out in the open now. I¡¯m not like that.¡± Now was the moment to hook him in. ¡°I know. I experimented and it didn¡¯t do anything for --¡±

    ¡°Woah. Wait, you tried?¡± Nathaniel shook his head, as if he was clearing something out of his noggin. Hooked, and now I¡¯d reel him in. ¡°I¡¯ve known you for the past hundred. When did you give someone else a wank?¡±

    ¡°Before we met -- anyways, do you believe me?¡± He grudgingly nodded and I nodded back to cut him some slack.

    ¡°Tell me then. What¡¯s the deal with the vid if you¡¯re not into her?¡± When he said that, I felt only half successful entrapping him in a worthwhile conversation. I had wanted the discussion to be driven toward his perspective, so that he might have brought up whatever I had missed in my search for Miss Right. Instead, he focused on the pop idol!

    I really wanted my friend¡¯s insight, but it sounded like I might have to seek professional help after all. A shrink? That was not someone anyone ever looked forward meeting, let alone getting personal with.

    For now, I dropped my derailed train of thought and took what I had going with Nathaniel and went with it. ¡°Not here. I¡¯m not comfortable with --¡±

    ¡°Say no more! Come with me to the Den and we¡¯ll get you comfortably straightened out, ¡®kay?¡± That at least meant I had drawn him away from his pranking ways for today.

    In triumph, a soft laugh escaped me before I could stop it. But that gave Nathaniel a cheerful smile as he led me off to his room¡­

    <hr>

    I remembered. Warm and cozy, sitting in a chair, I was listening to Nathaniel lecturing me on how shallow I supposedly was with women when we heard the unsettling news. A solar mass that had been ejected from a supernova thousands of years ago across the expansive galaxy had been rediscovered. It was abnormal because the sun¡¯s boom had been an old event. Real damn old and every one of those speculating experts thought nothing dangerous would come from it -- at least, back then.

    And they were wrong¡­

    <hr>

    I was jerked awake and inhaled sharply in fright when I nearly fell off of the horse. It had gone into full gallop. My legs clamped tightly to my horse¡¯s sides and I flattened myself as well as I could to the beast¡¯s hairy mane.

    There were challenging shouts of rage --

    -- clashing and scrapping of steel --

    -- agonized and angry screams with the whining of horses --

    -- and a clogging mass of dust in my hooded sack. I couldn¡¯t stop coughing after I had sucked in the dryness to the back of my throat upon my rude awakening.

    Without looking, I took an educated guess.

    A battle.

    My question was: who against who here? What I knew -- so far -- was that there were two factions in the region. The invaders and the locals.

    Who were the invaders? If I didn¡¯t already know, most likely the girl never had known¡­ or didn¡¯t comprehend?

    How old was I? If I were to look at myself, my current height wouldn¡¯t allow me to be a good judge at all. Originally as I grew up, I was a pretty big boy for my age.

    With that in mind, I really wished now I had longer legs to keep a better grip on my horse. It felt like I was on an out of control flight simulator! The only difference between the two was that flight simulators didn¡¯t crash into things --Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    -- unlike the sensations of other horsemen brushing by and practically smacking into my mount!

    Why were they so close to me? If a battle was really happening, wouldn¡¯t it be better for them to ditch me and -- I didn¡¯t know, get into some kind of formation?

    ¡°Mmmff!¡± One of those bastards just did a number to my leg! It didn¡¯t feel broken, but I certain felt better without them crushing it. A second went by and I was fine. But I wondered how long it would be before I got blindsided again?

    In a split-second, I felt my guts rise up. It felt like my horse had jumped, and I flew up in the air and off the horse a mere few inches in the process --

    -- then yanked right back down onto the horse¡¯s back from my leashed neck. I coughed uncontrollably, but focused on tightly clamping my legs onto the horse more securely than before.

    However the battle may have been turning, it was intense. I could only hope to recover fast enough before something else happened to me.

    Over the din of battle, I supposed I had a moment of selective hearing to have picked up one of the combatants shouting orders. At first, I failed to understand what he said -- the words didn¡¯t make sense. But then he added more structure to his command and I understood.

    ¡°-- before they flee!¡± I caught only a part of that shouted command, but I picked up another. ¡°Cut off the Xi! They cannot --¡± That was cut off before it was followed with another command¡­ and that one was desperately screeched out! ¡°Surround them! Box them!¡±

    By what senses I had available, I felt as if the direction of my horse had changed. Like every one of the horsemen had decided to take a drastic change of course.

    At last, I understood the reasoning for these horsemen¡¯s compact riding formation now. Whoever they were fighting had caught them, and the horsemen may have created an opening. I guessed that meant there were still too many of my captors left for the bloodshed to end?

    Whoever these other combatants were -- why would they attempt to trap the horsemen if they were too much to hold?

    I sucked in a sharp breath when I realized something: they succeeded. The invaders created the diversion and now whoever was defending the region chased after my captors.

    That meant the bulk of the invasion could move without harassment to¡­ where?

    How did the girl know that much, but not know who was who or what was what? The concept of what was going on existed, but none of the whys. From the thought of it, I was apparently the one who had to puzzle the answers out. But I needed to know more.

    And the sack on my head wasn¡¯t helping!

    Again I sensed the shifting direction of my horse. And again¡­ I crushed myself down against the horse¡¯s mane and hoped to not fall off if it. I didn¡¯t know why, but I guess the horse had to keep zigzagging with the rest of the horsemen?

    With another jerk from the leash, I nearly slid off the back of my horse when it reared up in the air. When my horse slammed back down, I realized we¡¯d stopped.

    The sound of the conflict escalated --

    -- and my horse wildly bucked!

    I managed to hold on for a few seconds before I swung off and along the horse¡¯s side. Maybe a second or two had gone by with me being strangled. Instinct kicked in and I began to kick madly for the ground beneath me.

    Then I dropped flat on my ass! I felt the rope hang limply over my shoulder¡­ either it¡¯d worked itself loose or someone had cut it. A breathless thanks passed my muffled mouth to either God or man before I struggled to stand.

    Blind and with my wrists still in bonds, I knew to remain where I stood would mean being certainly trampled in the unseen chaos. I ran --

    -- and slammed into something. Whatever it was, it didn¡¯t feel like a horse or person. There was a rough quality to the obstruction. When I reached my hands out to feel it, I immediately thought of bark on a tree. But it was flat, not rounded like a trunk should be.

    Whatever it was, it approached and buffeted me back. Then again. I was incredibly confused by what was pushing me further back from where I ran.

    ¡°Open!¡± The flat-barked thing scraped my knuckles as it rose high in the air --

    -- then I fell backwards as something grabbed my ankles and violently pulled me under the flat-barked wall.

    Hands were pawing me and I freaked out! Not much I could do in my weak condition and bonded situation, but I struggled against the hands that grabbed me.

    Someone kept shouting down at me: ¡°Kirin! Kirin!¡± Whoever it was kept repeating the same word. And I kept struggling! Even if I¡¯d understood what he was yelling, I was flipping out.

    It wasn¡¯t until I was pulled up and held tightly in the stranger¡¯s arms that I finally stopped trying to fight. Just like the sensation I¡¯d had with the horse, I felt whomever had me stand and move quickly. I was hugged tighter as he ran like Hell from where we¡¯d fought my one-sided struggle.

    I jerked upright in his arms when he loudly bellowed: ¡°Loose!¡±

    There was a rhythmic thrum in the air --

    -- followed by a roar of enraged yells, terrible screams, and bestial whining of all the horsemen and their mounts within the boxed in bark-wall. I very much would have liked it if the sack on my head was removed before, but after I heard those cries¡­ not anymore. I kept my head down against the man¡¯s chest and myself silent.

    That was how I heard the approach of a familiar noise: clopping. There was a horse racing towards our general direction.

    In his arms, I felt my body jerk as we whirled around to face whatever came. He freed his right arm of my burden and held me simply in his left. A weird word was shouted: ¡°Tokombi!¡±

    Something caused me to flinch as a shadow flew close by. There was a loud crunch beneath us and our postures became awkward¡­ was he squatting? I rose my head up from his chest --

    -- and smacked my face right back onto his chest. A massive force had nearly thrown the both of us backward -- a horse! I heard its scream before the beast¡¯s weight crumpled to the ground behind me. There was something wildly thrashing across the ground, but I never found out what had made that noise.

    As soon as the horse had fallen, the man holding me got back up onto his feet and ran.

    While I rested my head against him, I was becoming aware I understood a single language, but others were foreign to me. Or maybe I didn¡¯t understand the entire vocabulary? Or were there multiple spoken languages being yelled across the battlefield?

    Why didn¡¯t the girl know? I¡¯d restored her mind! She should know¡­

    The only thing I had found to be a dominant feature in the girl was her emotions. Her memories were jumbled and only triggered in my consciousness when there was an outside factor involved.

    I needed the hood off to understand more. The greater my sensory reception, the faster I could expand my knowledge of what had happened here.

    ...but I waited. I didn¡¯t want to see what all I¡¯d heard back there. Until we were a sufficient distance from the chaotic noises of battle, he had run before he slowed to a stop. We were not alone. Less shouting and more firm commands were being issued around me.

    He had finally set me down on my feet. The rope around my neck was pulled and I felt a quick jerking vibration through the thick braid -- it was being sawed off.

    Once the leash was removed, the next thing to happen to me was that my blindness in the hooded darkness transitioned to another blindness in the bright daylight. While he removed the gag and freed my wrists, I silently spent a minute to let my eyes adjust to the light.

    A different voice spoke down to us: ¡°She¡¯s the -hwang?¡±

    After a few blinks, I gazed up at several men in thick and heavy robed uniforms. They wore an incredibly thick-looking black apron over the robe.

    Maybe that was their version of protection? Not much in comparison to the invaders. But I would give it to them that they would have an easier time walking around rather than the horsemen.

    The man who had secured and freed me glanced away to address the other speaker. ¡°Yes, Nangjang --¡± My mind worked in overdrive.

    I knew what the word translated into: Lieutenant Commander. But it wasn¡¯t the translation I was working out, rather the comparison to some other rank that I had been familiar with.

    The man who freed me turned away from the Nangjang to inspect the regions on my clothes that had dried blood. ¡°Difficult to believe what the Waegonobi said, but it is obvious the Xi took her for a reason.¡± The other words I wasn¡¯t familiar with, but I reasoned the Xi were the invaders.

    So I asked about the other word: ¡°Waegonobi?¡±

    That appeared to startle him for an instance, but he smiled and answered. ¡°Nobi that can own property.¡±

    I understood that word. Slaves. We were a village of slaves.

    Did that mean I had saved my people from death to only have them run back to their masters? Was I a nobi too? That didn¡¯t sound like the case. The Nangjang addressed me in another funny word.

    Once more, I asked for a translation as I pointed at myself. ¡°Hwang?¡± He looked at me in confusion for a moment. When I pointed up at the Nangjang, then his eyes lit up.

    ¡°He meant Bonghwang.¡± I shook my head when I didn¡¯t understand.

    Instead of elaborating the word, he placed his palm along my head and steadied my shaking to continue his inspection. Apparently I had to ask him. ¡°What bonghwang?¡±

    ¡°An immortal bird. Very colorful with reds and blues.¡± Again I hadn¡¯t translated the meaning, but rather compared what he said to a phoenix¡­ except I thought the bird he¡¯d described might actually exist?

    There was imagery in my mind. A memory. The girl was reminded where she had seen a bird like that before.

    In the beautiful scenery, the rushing water was a surge of lush green vegetation that crashed and sparkled brilliant -- and powerful -- waves against the blue-grey rocks jutting from the river¡¯s surface. But on those slippery rocks, those birds idled while calmly cleaning their vibrant feathers without a fear of being swept away by the current.

    They were pretty.

    My stomach lurched when I smelled the nearby fires. Campfires. They were cooking?

    I asked: ¡°Food?¡±

    ¡°And drink.¡± He patted me on the head and turned to address the Nangjang again. ¡°She¡¯s not in good shape. I recommend rationing her intake until her health is accustomed. To survive, she¡¯s suffered consumption of the body.¡±

    The Nangjang locked eyes with me and clarified: ¡°The wasting sickness?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Nangjang,¡± said the man in confirmation.

    It took me a moment to click together the puzzle-pieces. My starvation had been real and my body had begun to break down the good nutrients from my muscles and other juicy organs to sustain itself.

    ¡°We will deal with this matter later. Take her back and see that she is seen to properly. Don¡¯t tarry. I want your return to be swift.¡± The Nangjang looked out and across the uneven field we had come from and stated: ¡°The Xi are not finished.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Nangjang.¡± Without being asked, the man lifted me as he stood up.

    As he slipped his arms under me more securely, I adjusted to find comfort against him. Now that my bonds were cut, I hooked my arms around the back of his neck and rested my head on his shoulder. He carried me further away from the sounds of combat until they were a distant rumble.

    There were a number of massive bubbled canvases set up around the hills. Tents. Those were tents.

    The encampment. And those were soldiers. All wore the same thick robes, but only a few had those thicker aprons on. Many had spears. None had a sword with them.

    But more importantly, they were grinding bowls filled with yellow wheat. My mouth watered when I saw that.

    Why?

    Then I associated the wheat with warm and gooey hunks of bread. My tummy painfully grumbled.

    Without thought, I blurted out: ¡°Food?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Be patient.¡± He gave me a pat on the back before I sensed a shadow fall over us as he ducked. Then I realized we had entered one of the tents. ¡°I¡¯m setting you down.¡±

    Once I felt the ground, I let go of his neck and decided to sit where I had been settled. He grabbed a nearby item off of a rack and folded the warm layer around me.

    A blanket? It was furry, but absolutely smooth. Where I touched the furry coat, I was overwhelmed with a temptation to comb my fingers through the fine black stripes. My mind desired to keep the dark hairs out of the golden fur.

    As I bundled up in the cozy warmth of the blanket, I continued to pet the sleek coat.

    The man passed me and began to collect items from the corner of his tent.

    The first thing he did was grab a pot and go straight outside with it. Through the open slit of the tent¡¯s entrance, I watched him mix items into the pot by one of the fires. He scooped a clump of paste up out of the pot -- it was white.

    A young soldier came over and sat down by the fire with him. The two exchanged the white stuff and began mixing it with something.

    Beans? They were beans.

    They were cooking!

    My tummy growled at me again. Why couldn¡¯t I have some of the bread that the other soldiers may have already prepared?

    The man who had taken me to his tent stood up and wandered away. Because he was ordered to, he likely headed back to the Nangjang.

    And to resume his involvement in the battle.

    I sighed and turned away when the soldier had just started to add water into the pot. Likely he would be boiling whatever was on the menu. Meanwhile, I scooted over to the stretched tight canvased wall and rested my side up against it.

    And I yielded to the slumbering darkness once more¡­

 Chapter 3: The Devastated

    Chapter 3: The Devastated

    The ceiling had a natural pattern to it. I could tell by the irregularity in the dark golden brown hues. There was a light base with numerous darker shades of veins traveling through the entire ceiling.

    Was really authentic wood? The doc would surprise me if he could honestly afford such a luxury. That was a real emphasis on ¡®honestly afford¡¯ any of it.

    Like it would matter in a few years. Just like every other system in Betelgeuse''s path, the ceiling would eventually burn.

    The sound of a book being clapped shut alerted me to turn the same time the doc looked up from his recent scribbling in that notebook. ¡°...I believe this is a good point to stop.¡± He set his book on a stand next to where he sat and continued: ¡°Please consider what you¡¯ve told me carefully. You¡¯ve made a breakthrough with one of your past relationships.¡±

    Before I got up, I savored the relaxation I had found laying on his couch. It was so much larger than what I was accustomed to: furniture one foot too small. Normally my feet would hang off the edges of the mattress, but that wasn¡¯t the case for the Doc¡¯s couch. The cushions were comfortable and smooth to the touch. I¡¯d have liked to ask him what the cushion covers were made of, but I refrained.

    I didn¡¯t want to be here, let alone strike a casual conversation with the doc.

    So I sat up straight, ready to end the session, but I wondered if he meant who I thought he did. I asked: ¡°You mean Saran? We got along, at first¡­ but I don¡¯t know what you mean? What went wrong?¡±

    The doc smiled and quickly flipped open his notebook back to a previous entry. He reread the page, once he found it, and elaborated my supposed breakthrough. ¡°You were attracted to her, but once you two became close -- you were scared? Could you repeat to me what it was about her that frightened you?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± I laughed a little at the memorable experience before I explained. ¡°She¡¯s had issues. One of those silent mile-long-stare types.¡±Remembering that, I shook my head as I recalled Saran¡¯s expression when she¡¯d go real quiet on me. True silence with nobody home. ¡°She never told me what had happened to her, but I felt like she¡¯d snap at some point. Especially when she got like that. Like if I ever accidentally broke her out of trance, she¡¯d still be in whatever world kept her caged up and -- I don¡¯t know. I didn¡¯t want to find out what¡¯d she do, so we broke up.¡±

    The doc closed his notebook and pointed up as an indicator. ¡°Someone who has had a traumatic episode in their life would experience a great deal of emotional stress. There have been worse cases than what you¡¯ve described Saran having. Epilepsy is a common one.¡±

    I shook my head in response. ¡°She didn¡¯t have seizures.¡±

    ¡°They become more frequent as the pressure increases.¡± He dropped his notebook in his lap and quickly flipped through the pages in search of something. Then he asked: ¡°What was her position again?¡±

    ¡°An extraterrestrial geophysicist.¡± The doc¡¯s white bushy brows raised at that career choice. I summarized the details of the job. ¡°She would conduct overland surveys, explore and discover the deeper regions -- like canyons, caverns or caves, and oceans -- and map out the terrain of other worlds before colonization.¡±

    ¡°Sounds dangerous.¡± I nodded silently in agreement. ¡°What did you expect to happen if you woke her from those trances?¡± I kept my mouth shut.¡°Roth? Are you still with me?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I¡­¡± After a moment of silence, I nodded in agreement. ¡°I think you are right. I¡¯d like to stop here.¡±

    ¡°Roth. Look at me.¡± I listened and obeyed. The doc locked eyes with me for a few seconds before he asked: ¡°Have you been taking your suppressants?¡± Without saying it, I shook my head. He sighed and tapped his sleeve to turn off the nanite recorder. ¡°Before we end our session, would you tell me what bothered you just now?¡± He picked the notebook up, but simply tossed it away from himself. It stopped its skid across the floor by my feet. ¡°Off the record. Completely.¡± He wanted insight on a man not taking his dosages of suppressants. ¡°What was it that bothered you?¡±

    My hands clenched tightly together as I thought about Saran. The more I thought about her, the tighter my hands brutalized each other in their large grips.

    I softly spoke: ¡°Saran needed help. Real help.¡± I let go of my hands to quickly clear my eyes before any waterworks could come forth. ¡°I couldn¡¯t. I couldn¡¯t help her¡­ I couldn¡¯t and I wanted to, but I couldn¡¯t. I was afraid of watching her fall¡­¡± I had to rub my eyes more furiously to keep them clear.

    ¡°You felt helpless.¡± I nodded in silence to the doc. ¡°Did you want to save her?¡± All I did was nod again. ¡°Soup?¡±

    That didn¡¯t sound right. I pulled my hand away from my eyes and gave the Doc a blurry stare. He looked different¡­

    <hr>

    ¡°Soup?¡± Blinking away, I stared at the soldier who came into the tent. He held a steamy bowl out to me. When I didn¡¯t take it right away, he set the bowl down by my side.

    I wasn¡¯t sure which had woken me up first, the sound of the voice or the delicious scent coming from the steamy bowl set down by me¡­ probably him. I didn¡¯t recall an invigorating aroma wafting up to my nose in my dream.

    If I had, I would have been dreaming of a banquet, not a shrink!

    ¡°You¡¯re safe now.¡± Glancing away from the bowl of soup, I looked at the soldier as he leaned in close to me --

    -- and reached toward me to brush the tears off of my cheek. Was I crying in my sleep?

    ¡°Ma said a wet face causes wrinkles. You¡¯re too young and pretty for that to happen so soon.¡± He swept my face clear of tears, but held me beneath my chin and turned me to face side-to-side. I guessed he was inspecting my cheeks for a missed spot?

    ¡°Pretty?¡± I hadn¡¯t a clue how I looked.

    He grinned and said, ¡°Yes. You are pretty.¡± Then he blinked rapidly. ¡°Wait. Maybe I am seeing things.¡± A couple of seconds later, he let go of my chin, then said, ¡°Let me fix this.¡± The young soldier leveled his gaze with mine and remained very still and quiet for a moment.

    Then he raised a fist and softly bonked himself upside the right of his head. His right eye crossed instantly.

    He rubbed his chin and stared at me as I did my best to keep from laughing. ¡°Hm¡­ still pretty. Let me try something else.¡±

    And he repeated the same silly act, but on the left side of his head. Now the other eye crossed.

    With both eyes fully crossed, he stated: ¡°Hey! I like this better than before. Now I see two pretty girls.¡±

    I laughed hard enough to cause a bellyache!

    As soon as my laughter softened, he uncrossed his eyes and said, ¡°I¡¯ll leave you to eat. I¡¯m right outside if you require anything.¡± He backed out of the tent on his hands and knees -- which I thought looked funny.

    Once he was out, I saw he continued to carefully tend to the campfire and pot of bean soup. At least, I thought it was bean soup. When I looked in my steamy bowl, I saw a soupy paste. Bean paste?

    I searched a moment for silverware¡­ and didn¡¯t find any. Was I supposed to scoop the hot meal up with my fingers?

    There should have been some familiarity or I was about to be embarrassed when I asked how to properly eat here! Hadn¡¯t the kid tried bean paste soup before?

    My mouth had watered enough that I had to gulp a few times before I yielded my pride. I pulled the black and gold fur tighter around me and stood up.

    The soldier noticed me stand before I could¡¯ve walked out. He crawled back in and asked: ¡°May I assist you with anything?¡±

    I froze for a second before I blurted out: ¡°How eat?¡± Out from under the fur blanket, I pointed at the soup.

    I witnessed the soldier¡¯s smile for the first time. ¡°Let it cool. When you can tolerate the touch, use a finger.¡± When I lifted my slim finger up, he was quick to explain the reason. ¡°Mutengge¡¯s orders: eat slow.¡± That was a word, a name too¡­ but I was too hungry to care right now!

    With an instant frown, I stated: ¡°Hungry.¡±

    ¡°I can see that. Only others that can speak over Mutengge are the elders, and I¡¯m not one of them.¡± He looked down at my bowl, then glanced up at me. Suddenly, he laid down on his stomach and elbows to start blowing on my soup. After a minute, he said, ¡°Take a bit off the top. Don¡¯t dip, just scrap it.¡±

    With his directions, I sat back down, and I scraped a line over the top of the paste. Not hot. Quickly, I brought my warmed fingertip up to my open mouth and nommed on the tip. After a second of suckling on my finger, I reach to make another groove in my soup.

    ¡°Keep it at a slow pace and you¡¯ll be able to finish it without burning yourself.¡± He pushed himself up onto his knees and watched me eat for a minute or two. ¡°Let me know if you need me.¡± Then he crawled back out.

    Slow and steady, I ate without a single burn. Even if I had, I doubted the pain would¡¯ve registered long after I would have numbed it.

    When I finished the bowl, I licked it and my finger clean before I gave the soldier a wave with the empty bowl in my hand. He crawled right back in and retrieved the bowl.

    I had a chance to look down at my hands, then the ruined blue robe I wore. The young soldier did tell me to let him know if I had need.

    I needed a bath.

    Pointing at myself, I told him: ¡°Dirty.¡± ...c¡¯mon girl! ¡°I dir -- I am dirty.¡±

    Instead of receiving a response from the soldier, he reacted with a hard pat on his sleeve -- which puffed dust in the air. He was covered in very fine dirt!

    After I registered that, he must have seen that I understood. ¡°When this is over, we¡¯ll all go back and get cleaned up¡­ if it all goes well. If not, we¡¯ll be chasing the Xi for another night.¡±

    He appeared crestfallen at the thought of an ongoing chase. I wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about that. It wasn¡¯t like I had anywhere else to be. But I did want to bathe.

    ¡°I go -- I will go¡­ The river?¡± I was getting better, but had a long way to go before I could be fluent with the language.

    ¡°Not without approval. That won¡¯t happen with the Xi riding around.¡± He held a hand up to himself and stated: ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to be caught by them butt naked. You don¡¯t want that either, do you?¡±

    I almost shook my head, but instead said, ¡°No. How permission?¡± I let that poor line slide and waited to hear what he had to say.

    ¡°You can¡¯t. I told you, it is too dangerous for you.¡± I knew that, but something in me was being defiant to that logic!

    ¡°I be sa --¡± I bit my bottom lip and concentrated on what I wanted to say. After taking a breath, I told him: ¡°I would be safe if you came with me.¡±

    He smiled and laughed a little before pointing at himself to state: ¡°I would need approval too and I¡¯m not going to be getting any of that. We are all in need of a dip.¡±

    Another instant frown appeared on my face. Then I had an idea: ¡°Bring water here?¡±

    He told me where we were. ¡°We¡¯re in the mountains. We¡¯d have to turn back, like I said.¡±

    Somehow the combination of horsemen in mountains didn¡¯t figure well in my head. I didn¡¯t have a full grasp on what horses were capable of doing, but their hooves didn¡¯t sound like the best to be scrabbling over an incline. Maybe that was why our village wasn¡¯t prepared for their raiding? We never would have guessed¡­

    But that explained how the Xi horsemen had gotten trapped by the Nangjang¡¯s soldiers.

    The young soldier corrected himself on one note. ¡°We do have something for you to drink.¡± He quickly added: ¡°Don¡¯t rinse with it.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t get clean, but maybe I could at least get out of these robes. ¡°Change clothes?¡±

    ¡°I will come back with drink and a change of clothes. Stay here, please?¡± I nearly nodded again, but I instead gestured at the ground. ¡°That means you¡¯ll stay?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I stay.¡± As I watched him back out of the tent again, I bundled back up more securely in the fur blanket and waited.

    Taking a deep breath, I concentrated on discerning what I had eaten. Not knowing what was in me now made me cautious about transmuting the pasty soup into nutrients my body desperately required. I would have to wait and feel out what my body naturally took from the soup before I could do something with the potential waste. If I could...

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    The water, when the soldier came back, that was something I could --

    -- someone cried out an alarm. Then there was a chorus of shouting and the sound of numberless soldiers suddenly on the move.

    I poked my head out of the tent to see what was going on --

    -- and got shoved right back in.

    ¡°Wait here.¡± The young soldier pressed a canister against my chest that sloshed up a bit of water onto my hand when I took it by instinct. Just as quickly, he darted off with a crowd of other soldiers.

    Something was wrong.

    I quickly took a gulp of water and wiped my mouth before I tucked and secured the canister into the sash around my narrow waist. After my refreshment, I disobeyed the soldier and left the tent.

    The golden and black-furred blanket almost fell from my shoulders. I gripped it tightly and secured its corners in a knot around my neck. In addition to the fact that the fur¡¯s appearance better suited me now than the ruined blue robe, I also didn¡¯t want to lose the blanket.

    I liked it too much.

    After my small distraction, I took in the grand scene before me. Over the hills, I saw the box formation of soldiers holding -- shields. They were great big ones that towered over their heads and made of some kind of woven wood. That explained the bark-like texture¡­

    But a section of the box had broken and horsemen flooded through the gap in great numbers. They didn¡¯t flee, but instead turned and fanned out.

    Each of them were throwing their javelins into those without protection or into the backs of those soldiers who still hefted the great shields. They must have waited for a moment to get a clear shot instead of wasting their opportunity against those shields.

    I turned and saw what was happening on my hill. The soldiers were responding to the breakout. A new line of shields were rushed in a round-tipped formation. When the rounded tip hit the first of the Xi, the ends of the formation¡¯s arms ran forward to curl around the horsemen.

    The round-tip formation had turned into a big ¡®U¡¯ shape until the soldiers at the ends met with their comrades a part of the box formation. Gradually the pocket formation flattened --

    -- and the box was reformed. Soldiers who had not held any shields raced up onto the grassy elevations and began to loose their own javelins or arrows into the thick of horsemen.

    I immediately looked away from the sight. Hearing the sounds of so much death was one thing, but seeing it was another. Why was I against seeing the Xi being killed like that? Hadn¡¯t I wanted to kill them some while ago?

    A shuddering breath escaped me and I shook my head. I didn¡¯t want to kill. She did. Her vengeance, not mine. All I wanted to do was save those villagers.

    There was nothing more I could do for my mother. Seeking revenge would not bring back the dead!

    ¡°...no orphans?¡± I said my thought, but the concept of it was illogical. Why didn¡¯t the girl understand that if I killed those horsemen, that their children would become orphans too?

    Death wasn¡¯t a give-take relationship, but a pure take!

    I was thankful for the imprinted knowledge she had, but the mind and body were mine now. The kid had to settle with my decisions and keep a lid on those emotions. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath to calm down those emotions --

    -- and jerked back with an instant sharp pain in my thigh.

    Blinking my eyes open, I saw the shaft of an arrow sticking out of my leg. Lifting my gaze, I traced the line of trajectory back to its source.

    Four horsemen. They had managed to escape the soldiers¡¯ notice! But why did they aim at me?

    Then I saw why. The one who¡¯d shot me was the decorated horseman.

    I took a step back and winced when I tried with my injured leg. I couldn¡¯t heal with the blasted arrow still in!

    Clenching hard, I muffled a scream as I yanked on the shaft and pulled out the arrow. I saw the arrowhead was in an odd shape¡­ with my torn flesh around it.

    Shaking my head to rid me of the sight, I felt my wound close in time for me to get moving again. I searched, but saw none of the soldiers who were up here earlier. Had they all gone to patch up the box formation?

    The heavy hooves of the horses were heard behind me! When I glanced over my shoulder, I broke in a run --

    -- but I was scooped up! In that instant, I gripped the shaft of the arrow tightly and swung my fist as hard as I could into the soldier¡¯s arm around my waist. After I hearing his scream, he dropped me onto the rushing ground.

    I rolled on the ground for a second or two before I smacked into a canvas wall. On all fours, I raised my head up and saw through the filter of my dark hair the sight of those horsemen acutely turning about.

    ¡°Run!¡± My mind whirled in bewilderment for a few seconds. Then I saw the young soldier who¡¯d cared for me in the company of another soldier. There was a third soldier who disappeared down the hill -- likely to alert others of the horsemen.

    After my moment of hesitation, I quickly looked around and wondered where the Hell I was supposed to run off to?

    As I stood up, the young soldier and his companion ran together. ¡°Get behind us!¡± I bolted toward them when I saw they had lifted one of those overly large shields up in time to deflect one of the horsemen¡¯s javelins.

    But not the arrow. A precise hit violently spun the companion of the young soldier to the ground, causing the unbalanced shield to drop --

    -- and leave him exposed for an instant.

    As if time slowed for a moment, that instant I helplessly watched as he was struck by the other two horsemen. Those long splinters were felt by his hands for only a moment.

    There were only a few steps for me to take to reach him, but I stopped. The look on the young soldier¡¯s face was confused. He looked at me, then down at his stomach and lower abdomen as if he didn¡¯t understand what those javelins were doing there.

    An arrow pierced his chest. He lifted his gaze back up to me.

    He didn¡¯t make a sound, but I saw his eyes well up.

    A whizzing sound passed my ear and I saw the second arrow appear dead center on the soldier¡¯s chest.

    He looked up past me. And up. His head rolled back to fully face and stare up at the heavens. Then he stumbled backwards.

    And finally he collapsed.

    Inside of me, something had become unhinged.

    My mouth widely opened as air rushed out me.

    Everything had been silenced.

    Deafened.

    My voice transformed into an explosive hatred in the form of a terrible scream. In that breathless moment, I had been devoured whole by the girl¡¯s wrath.

    I whirled around and sprinted. It never crossed my mind that my run toward the horsemen was suicidal. Only a homicidal passion drummed in me.

    One of the horsemen tried to catch me again, but I instead slammed my body into the horse¡¯s front legs. My body was crushed in the process of felling the horse head first into the ground over me.

    Like a contortionist, I snapped back together and knitted the broken tissue as I scrambled what limbs worked over the fallen horse to the Xi soldier. He saw me and yelled in a panic as I dropped on him.

    His weapons. When the Xi tried to withdraw his sword, I tore out the arrow still embedded in his arm. The moment he yelled, I grabbed a javelin from his quiver and jammed the sharp point down.

    He was heavily armored, but from the legs up. The Xi were much less protected around the torso. An aimlessly mad stabbing went on until I felt the javelin sink into the man. Then I rolled off, tore the javelin out of the wound I¡¯d inflicted, and left him.

    He was incapacitated.

    That was enough for me to leave him be.

    My enraged mind told me I would deal with him after I finished off his friends.

    With the same kind of psychotic strength I¡¯d used in the village, I threw the bloody javelin into another horseman who was in mid-turnabout. That time, I aimed away from the horse and hit the Xi soldier in the shoulder.

    He twisted out of his saddle.

    Almost in slow motion, he fell while I tended to my self-injury.

    While I crunched my shoulder back into its socket, the corner of my vision caught a blur of motion. With feral animosity, I faced a crowd of soldiers coming up the mound who stood stunned.

    There were shocked expressions across all of their faces.

    My attention returned to the last two horsemen. Both appeared ready to flee, now that they were outnumbered. The two had withdrawn javelin and arrow. Both loosed at the same time and I felt their impacts.

    I bared my teeth at them as I tore the missiles out of me and returned the javelin in the same manner as I always had. How I¡¯d struck that Xi soldier -- I hadn¡¯t paid enough attention to know how he¡¯d fared.

    He was hit.

    Hurt.

    Him being down or out of the fight was all that mattered.

    My focus was on the decorated Xi. The only one who carried a quiver of arrows.

    Like the one that had shot down the young soldier.

    As I faced him, my irrepressible anger boiled up and out of me in an eruption of intolerable emotional anguish. My throat ruptured and regenerated in an unbridled scream to the point my damaged voice cracked and burst --

    -- and only a guttural growl could be heard from me!

    His horse snuffed loudly as it attempted to turn away from my bestial voice. The last capable Xi that was in my sights stared back at me. With a look of wonder, he watched as I tensed and readied to explode in a savage attack.

    I would murder him without any restraint.

    ¡°Tasha!¡± Spots appeared and sparkled in my vision as I processed the word he¡¯d said. Tiger?

    A flood of aggravated emotions swept away my momentary reasoning when he pulled another arrow from his quiver. The arrowhead had a sleeve which he removed before he notched the arrow and drew it.

    Not having a care of his aim, I charged at him and his horse¡­ which began to gallop away? He never pulled the reins, but it looked as if he was directing his mount with his legs.

    As he distanced himself from me, he loosed another arrow. The blunt impact of it caused me to spasmodically jerk to a stop, and then burn all over. The pain was possible to ignore, and that time I wasn¡¯t incapacitated by the piercing blow... so I ignored the arrow too. I resumed running after him --

    -- but he suddenly fell from his horse. And the horse soon followed after him to the ground.

    As I approached, I finally stopped to take in the scene. My vision blurred as I stared at the Xi and his horse in confusion. At least until I noticed the crop of slender yellow shoots were not vegetation. Arrow shafts surrounded the decorated horseman and his horse.

    A few of those arrows stuck out of the corpses.

    Looking away, I saw the group of Nangjang¡¯s archers on the nearby mound. Their attire blended in with the tall green grass.

    The decorated Xi horseman never saw them while he was too focused on me.

    The adrenaline in my system began to ebb away. Before it fully faded, I took a look down at myself to find the arrow that hit me. It stuck out of my chest. I took a firm grip and pulled, but it wouldn¡¯t come out.

    I tried again with both hands, but the archers were shouting at me. I looked back up and saw they were waving for me to come over. But I could hear them shouting at me to stop?

    Which was it!? Come over or stop?

    One of the archers raced down the mound¡¯s decline. He had a mixed look of worry and disbelief. I supposed he -- and his buddies -- wondered how I was still alive, let alone standing? That was a safe bet¡­

    With a swift jerk, I freed the arrow with both hands and smiled at the relief in my chest. The archer barked a curse before he came and knelt down. His hands shook as he pressed against the wound in my chest. But I already felt the hole starting to close up --

    -- and I felt really woozy now that my hot head cleared. I fell forward into the archer¡¯s arms and had only a view of the green and yellow grass. The waving paper-thin blades had spots? Tiny flecks of red sprinkled over the grass.

    In a dazed blindness, I struggled to raise my hand up. It felt as if my chest was on fire. I had to feel for where the archer held my wound closed.

    I had to see with my hand what was wrong.

    But my hand fell away limp.

    I blacked out¡­

 Chapter 4: The Deceased

    Chapter 4: The Deceased

    ¡°Oh c¡¯mon. If I were one of my siblings, I¡¯d leave you in a heartbeat, and you know that.¡± My mind mulled over the only options I had left: reason with her one more time or have her rolled up in her mattress and carried out? She¡¯d hate me for the latter, but the harder I pressed her, the less reasonable she became.

    ¡°-- you can do that.¡± I¡¯d entirely missed what she had said before, but when I heard those words, my head buzzed until my ears thrummed with a rhythmic beat.

    In a stunned silence, I looked away from my mother and took in my surroundings.

    A look away from the clutter on her bookshelves to the two standing dressers --

    -- a gaze across the room to my dear mom¡¯s bed --

    -- and a passing glance across the rugged floor to the many faces on the wall.

    Generations of our family. Most still alive and well. Each with their own families branched around our world, but not beyond. Our homeworld¡­ after the climate was modified and all had been terraformed, every one of our family members remained on a once-desolate ice world.

    A lush tundra now. We nurtured and cultivated the land until it suited our needs. There were whole regions of the planet that we left alone. Those regions had a natural beauty that I had always found joy in when I paid them a visit.

    One of those photos on the wall had been taken in a vacant region. The field was entirely blanketed in wildflowers as far as the eye could see. We cared about our world very much, and for those regions still in need of a bit of color, we applied our green thumbs where we could.

    We were traditionalists. That meant we had sentimental value all over our world. And I meant it. Our family had a relative of some kind living in every inhabited patch of tundra -- like only one small continent, which was within the arctic circle. We had a history wherever we looked. And we were always there for each other in times of need.

    A very rare quality in our era.

    I shook my head. ¡°You¡¯re not staying --¡±

    ¡°Go. You said you¡¯d leave. Leave.¡± My mother walked away from me to sit down on the edge of her single bed. She looked up at me and waved me off. ¡°Go. No one will blame you. There won¡¯t be anyone here when it hits.¡±

    Imploring her to yield to reason, I held out my hands and began yelling: ¡°That¡¯s my point! Come with --¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not the point.¡± She leaned forward and gave me a mockery of a smile. ¡°Your father dropped you on your head far too often; that¡¯s why I¡¯m not getting through to you, isn¡¯t it? Or maybe you two are too much alike. Too thick.¡±

    I shook my head at her and tried reason once more. ¡°Oma, c¡¯mon --¡±

    ¡°No, you come on! Who¡¯s going to be left when you leave? Who¡¯s out there?¡± She pointed out the door, but I knew she meant beyond and into the burning galaxy. ¡°Where will you go? How far are you going to run until you realize who you are leaving behind?¡±

    She left me with no choice: the mattress it would have to be!

    ¡°I¡¯m not! You¡¯re coming with me¡­¡± I watched my mother flip a gesture at me in refusal. While I admired the outstanding birdy she showed me, I began to work next to her bed in preparation to safely roll her up -- more for my safety than hers. ¡°I don¡¯t understand. Why?¡±

    ¡°Because your family is here. If I leave.¡± Her chest was harshly jabbed with her thumb as she enounciated her next two words firmly. ¡°I¡¯m leaving.¡± She waved behind himself to indicate all of the framed smiles and waves on the wall. ¡°I¡¯m leaving them. Your family.¡±

    I took another look around to gather what she¡¯d said, but in the end I just shook my head. ¡°I¡¯m not leaving -- what did you do?¡±

    She tapped the side of her tensely clenched jaw. The pigment of her skin had darkened under the makeup. Not like a tan, but pinkish. Then a reddish tone.

    Her shoulders squared and I caught the sight of her throat impulsively swallowing. Her nostrils flared as her face turned purplish¡­ blue.

    ¡°No!!¡± I reached out to her --

    -- and she raised her delicately pampered hands to push me away. Despite her millennial age compared to my bicentennial, she was equally fit, and her unrestrained strength had been desperately magnified with adrenaline.

    I crashed through the door as I was literally thrown out of my only parent¡¯s room. When I sat up, the color of her skin had already blackened.

    She really did it. She¡¯d activated her necrosis.

    I got up, but there was nothing I could do at that stage.

    That didn¡¯t stop me from going back in her room. I didn¡¯t know what to do when I approached her. What could I do?

    What should I do?

    Unable to just leave her like that, I reached out to hold her. Halfway through a deathstroke, she somehow managed to raise her hand up to my face. After she grabbed my attention, she pointed beyond me.

    The last word I heard my mother breathlessly whispered in my ear was: ¡°Go.¡±

    Her final wish was said and she fell backwards on her bed.

    The scenery blurred, but I know I eventually turned from her and obeyed.

    I abandoned our home.

    <hr>

    There were noises disturbing my sleep.

    Very noisy¡­ I was sleeping.

    The rest was welcomed, but I could have done well without the dreams. Either way, I wasn¡¯t to return to my slumber with that noise¡­ voices?

    I listened.

    ¡°-- enough to kill an Ussuri mojihiyan?¡± The voice was familiar, but the words he used were funny. If the girl didn¡¯t recognized the words, I certainly would not. At least, until I obtained a definition or some details to learn?

    ¡°Yes, Nangjang. Straight here.¡± I recognized that voice of the man who¡¯d rescued me from the Xi¡­ but I didn¡¯t appreciate my sternum being poked. ¡°Hm?¡± After a second, he tapped me in the sternum again.

    Despite not knowing what he was doing, I smacked his hand off.

    There was a loud sigh as I opened my eyes. I looked and found the one who¡¯d sighed was the Nangjang.

    He turned his gaze away from me and to the man that inspected me. ¡°Mutengge. Had it not been for so many eyewitnesses --¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± The voice changed to a more stern one and clarified: ¡°We knew.¡± The man, Mutengge, turned his gaze up to the Nangjang. ¡°The Xi took her for a reason. Now we¡¯ve seen it.¡± Both turned their eyes to me. ¡°She¡¯s a national treasure.¡±

    ¡°A treasure we almost lost.¡± Nangjang took a step forward and laid a hand on Mutengge¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I entrusted you with the responsibility.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Nangjang.¡± He kept his eyes off of his superior and down on me. The grip on his shoulder looked like it had became tighter. Painfully so. He repeated: ¡°Yes, Nangjang.¡±

    Then the Nangjang let go and walked away from us. ¡°Don¡¯t disappoint me again.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t until the Nangjang ducked and left that I realized we were in a tent. Nothing appeared any different from the last tent I was in, so I assumed it was the same.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Mutengge¡¯s tent.

    He gave me a smile. Something was wrong with the way he smiled at me. I didn¡¯t have time to figure the smile out before I felt something warm pulled up over to cover my chest. My hand slipped out from under, to feel what was on me.

    I felt the sleek fur and knew right away I was blanketed in tigerskin.

    The thought made me blurt out: ¡°Tasha?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± He patted my hand on the blanket. ¡°Tiger¡­ they say Sagujin called you Tasha. Is that your name?¡±

    I ended up going quiet in wonder what a Sagujin was and what the girl¡¯s name might be. I supposed Sagujin was the decorated Xi horseman. But the girl apparently hadn¡¯t a clue what she once was called.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you...? Tasha. Your name from now on is Tasha.¡± Mutengge smiled down at me. A different smile that had become more proud. He then stated: ¡°The Xi fear Tasha. Now they fear Tasha more than ever.¡±

    For some reason, I smiled at his analogy.

    After a moment, my smile faded as a thought occurred to me. I pointed out: ¡°Nangjang wrong.¡± I lifted my hand off the fur and pointed at Mutengge. ¡°Ordered back.¡±

    He settled and covered my hand back down on the fur blanket with his own large hand. ¡°The Nangjang must save face. It is natural, or consequences will follow us all.¡± I was confused, but I didn¡¯t shake my head that time.

    I learned to use my voice. ¡°Why?¡±

    He looked over me and took a deep breath before he explained: ¡°The Nangjang is one of many. They command a garrison for a single city. The surrounding region is under the city¡¯s protection. By association, the Nangjang is appointed protector of the region.¡± He grasped and ripped grass up by the roots from the open floor of the tent. He shook the dirt from the roots and said, ¡°Kirin is under our protection.¡±

    Kirin? That was what he had been shouting at me when we sorta first met. I still had a sack over my head at that time, so the introductions were a bit awkward. At least now I had an idea what the word Kirin had meant: the province.

    Mutengge resumed to conclude his explanation. ¡°The Nangjang knows us all well, and we know him. He has a handle on how to utilize our numbers. But if we begin to acknowledge his mistakes, we also begin to question his commands. Not a good trait for the Nangjang to carry.¡±

    ¡°Bad.¡± When I understood the circumstances for Mutengge taking the fall, he patted me on the head.

    ¡°Yes, it was. This was a tragic afternoon. Many lives were lost because of my own mistakes.¡± Mutengge¡¯s smile had become sad once more. ¡°I didn¡¯t return in time to prevent the breech... many Xi escaped.¡± His eyes became vacant for a moment as he reflected: ¡°Many lives were lost because of my absence.¡±

    His absence was because of me¡­ but he left as soon as he could! Once he had been substituted by --

    -- what was his name? I sat up immediately. ¡°Ah -- ha, where -- ah¡­¡± I swallowed sorrowfully hard when I realized I never asked for the young soldier¡¯s name. Instead of guessing what to call him, I gestured with my hands an imitation of eating from a bowl.

    He appeared confused. Then smiled in amusement as he guessed: ¡°Hungry?¡±

    ¡°Mutengge¡¯s friend!¡± I was gesturing at the flapping open tent, where the cooking took place, when he finally understood me.

    His smile faltered, but it returned sadly as he informed me. ¡°His name was Songgotu. Everyone will be brought back with us.¡±

    The name¡­ I understood what it meant. Someone that was good at crying. The name indicated a baby. I felt there was a story now behind his name, why he brushed away my tears, and his mother¡¯s word of advice that he¡¯d passed onto me. But I would never hear his tale¡­

    I wondered what they would do with him. I decided to ask, but first I concentrated on how I wanted to word it. ¡°What will happen to Songgotu?¡±

    ¡°He will be buried with the others.¡± When he said that, a dense lump formed in my throat.

    I confirmed: ¡°Buried --¡±

    ¡°Together -- as brothers.¡± What he said sounded very wrong. A mass grave?

    Not to show disrespect to Mutengge, but I had to find out why a burial like that would take place. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°If he were of higher station, he¡¯d be given a ceremonial funeral, but he was nobi.¡± Now that he had informed me of Songgotu¡¯s status, I could make sense of his odd behavior when he treated me.

    He wasn¡¯t crawling backwards and out of the tent to be funny. He was repeating a gesture he¡¯d perhaps had done thousands of times: groveling.

    And they intended to sink him lower than the dirt!

    ¡°...no.¡± I pulled the blanket off to stand up.

    ¡°No?¡± Mutengge questioned me as he picked the fur blanket back up and pulled it quickly around my shoulders. My bare shoulders.

    My train of thought was sidetracked as I took a look down and saw my ruined robe had been stripped down to the waist. Mutengge and the Nangjang must have wanted a closer inspection of my chest for that final wound I received.

    I felt no shame of being exposed. There had been pity instead of that shameful sense of vulnerability. The girl¡¯s body -- I could see the subtle definition of my ribs before they descended down to the concaving disappearance of my tummy... I was so thin.

    And bloodied.

    When I lifted my gaze back up to Mutengge, I noted he was no cleaner than I had been. His own robe may have once been white or tan, but the darkened color that stained it now had surely come from the battle¡¯s ordeal.

    But we could bathe ourselves¡­ the dead could not.

    As I pulled the yellow-striped blanket securely around my neck, I elaborated. ¡°Wash Songgotu.¡±

    Mutengge repeated: ¡°He will be buried when --¡±

    ¡°Not bury,¡± was my quick reply.

    His eyes narrowed. ¡°Tasha, listen to --¡±

    ¡°No!¡± My gaze locked onto his in defiance. ¡°I wash Songgotu.¡±

    He kept his eyes on mine until a sigh escaped him. ¡°Tasha. The Nangjang will order for all the dead to be buried. Songgotu is no exception.¡± Mutengge laid a hand on my shoulder and leaned in to softly ask: ¡°Do you intend the yolo and giyahun to feast on him after you went through the trouble of cleansing his body?¡±

    Birds. I thought of big, raptor-like, razor-sharp taloned birds. The image of them circling in the sky filled me with dread. They would come for the dead.

    My voice quieted as I said, ¡°No.¡±

    The soldiers. The nobi. They were so filthy from their march through the burned farmland and the mountain that opened way to the plains of the Xi people. I kept replaying the same image of Songgotu¡¯s robed uniform puffing dust in the air.

    And I knew now he would remain that way forever.

    A surge of hot blood rushed to my head. ¡°No!¡±

    Muttenge tried again to reason with me: ¡°Tasha --¡±

    ¡°No!!¡± I had understood him, but I was no longer calm or rational.

    I smacked his hand off of my shoulder and pushed past him to escape the tent.

    He called after me. ¡°Tasha!¡±

    And I ignored him as I exited his tent and looked across the hill in search for Songgotu --

    -- to find laid-out rows of many dead. So very many dead¡­

    Just as before, I stared at the numerous laid-out soldiers and felt an expectation from them: to roll over, itch their cheeks, twitch their noses, snort and snore, cross their arms or legs, or something. Anything to signal me they were only asleep!

    I knew better. They didn¡¯t have my abnormal background¡­ they had all had their own tales before those ended here.

    Many had on display different stories of their terrible conditions before their deaths.

    The nobi.

    But they all were in the same robed uniform. As brothers in arms... I couldn¡¯t tell the difference between them with a distant glance.

    My vision blurred as I ran to the deceased in search of a familiar face.

    Their faces were layered in dust, or smeared with blood, or caked in dirt, or... right in front of my very eyes, I still wouldn¡¯t know who I was looking at!

    How was I to find...?

    My mind rationally worked and I instantly felt around my waist.

    There, I felt the hard-outlined shape buried under my rolled down robe: the canister that contained my water. He had told me the water was for drinking only.

    In a quiet voice, I said, ¡°Sorry.¡±

    As I removed the container and opened it, I knelt down by the first of the fallen soldiers. My fingers dipped into the water and I began to rub the first man¡¯s face clear.

    It wasn¡¯t him. I moved onto the next. And the next one¡­ and the next.

    I kept cleaning their faces, but after awhile I worried I wouldn¡¯t find him. My lips trembled when I realized daylight was in short supply. I had to hurry, but inspecting everyone quickly to find Songgotu would slim my chances to notice him before nightfall.

    Hope faded when a shadow fell over me.

    Mutengge knelt down by my side and began to rinse the face of the next soldier. I stared at him for a moment before I decided not to question him. I stood and passed him to cleanse the man after.

    A soldier approached my other side and knelt with me. I stopped what I was doing when he removed a blade from under his apron. He tore a ragged band of cloth off of his thick robe with that blade and dipped the cloth into his own container of water.

    He cleaned the man¡¯s face for me. I had an inclination why Mutengge had joined me, but not the aproned soldier. When he lifted his irritably pinkened eyes up to meet mine, I understood then and there he was in search of someone too.

    How many other soldiers wanted to know who lived or not?

    My gaze drifted back to Mutengge. He looked baffled for a split second, as if we both had the same question on our minds, but caught my look and quickly his face appeared stern.

    And his voice loud and confident.

    ¡°Juhyunwul! Get over here!¡± As he called someone over, my blurred vision shifted from Mutengge to a robust soldier with one of those thick aprons on. ¡°Rally the men and have them identify everyone. Write down their names.¡±

    The man called Juhyunwul exclaimed: ¡°Yes, Mutengge!¡±

    ¡°No one rests until everyone is accounted for. Understood?¡± When Mutengge clarified his additional order, Juhyunwul appeared confused or unsure for only a moment.

    I barely managed to hear Juhyunwul question his orders quietly. ¡°Mutengge¡­ we march to return before daybreak --¡±

    Mutengge asked a simple question: ¡°Must I repeat myself?¡±

    The response to Mutengge was resolved. ¡°No, Mutengge.¡±

    After I witnessed that, I understood what Mutengge meant by commands being questioned and the result: hesitation. A soldier who hesitated too long wouldn¡¯t live long.

    Then Juhyunwul straightened and exclaimed: ¡°Yes, Mutengge!¡± He raced off and began to shout for everyone to gather before the orders were announced.

    When it appeared the whole population of the encampment had gathered, Juhyunwul began to call names. I watched as someone answered a name and hurriedly run to the deceased. They began to either scan those dead that had been cleaned or knelt and cleansed the corpses¡¯ faces for identification.

    I caught a glimpse of some soldiers who would run back to Juhyunwul. Without intention, I overheard names.

    Names of a fallen comrade here. And there...

    A census had begun for the living and not.

    ¡°Tasha.¡± I looked away from what had happened here, up to Mutengge. ¡°They will find him, but you mustn¡¯t be out here any longer.¡± He knelt down by my side and explained. ¡°The Xi know and fear you. Maybe you cannot die, but you can be stopped. Taken.¡± He gestured to all the dead and said, ¡°We are sorely without the numbers to deal with another advance party.¡±

    I didn¡¯t quite understand his logic. If the Xi knew I was here and wanted to take me, but the Nangjang¡¯s forces lacked the strength to repel them -- how would secluding me in a tent change anything?

    My confusion must have been expressed clearly on my face for Mutengge to see as he explained: ¡°Not all Xi openly challenge us. The Xiang are one tribe, but large and powerful.¡± He laid a hand on my shoulder and stated: ¡°You parading around the camp could change their attitudes toward us. It is best you stay out of sight until we safely return.¡±

    After taking a deep breath to calm down, I stood and turned to face the direction of the quiet battlefield. Mutengge stood behind me and placed both hands on my shoulders as I stared out at the countless fallen Xi.

    Mutengge tugged me away from the dark and grim scenery. ¡°Come.¡±

    In one last attempt to search for Songgotu, I scanned the many cleared faces of those fallen soldiers I had passed on my way to Mutengge¡¯s tent.

    The young soldier¡¯s death would forever remain in my memories, but not because of how he died, but why. My hesitation when he told me to run. To go¡­

 Chapter 5: The Treasured

    Chapter 5: The Treasured

    From the corner of my vision, I watched Nathaniel lean forward to reach for something. With deft fingers, he tapped and adjusted his shifty fingertips across the dash for a minute. His head tilted back and forth, almost as if he was paying attention to hear a quiet noise.

    I strained my own hearing just to sense if I had missed something in our cabin --

    -- and winced at the incredibly loud guitar and drums blaring and thundering. Nathaniel barked laughter loud enough to be heard over the album playing.

    The volume died down to a whisper as did the snickering Nathaniel. ¡°Hehe, sorry.¡±

    I shook my head and kept my mouth shut, or I would perhaps have said something rather rude to match his prank.

    ¡°Yo. You good?¡± He leaned close, giving me a concerned look up at my face. I nodded in response when he just kept giving me that look. ¡°You gotta talk to me.¡± My attention followed him straightening back up and stretching out his arms and legs as he stated: ¡°We¡¯ve got a long ways to go before we reach the Big Blue Mama. It¡¯ll be a real drag if I¡¯m the only one talkin¡¯.¡±

    My attention broke away from him to see the static interference caused by our cosmic journey. It would take a very long time until we reached our destination and Nathaniel was right about how our perception of time would slow without distractions. What he wanted to know¡­ the matter was too personal, so I kept silent about it. But if he wanted me to talk: ¡°What¡¯s Earth like?¡±

    When Nathaniel didn¡¯t reply right away, I turned to look back at him --

    -- and snorted a restrained laugh. He had his eyes crossed while giving me a very serious look.

    ¡°What? Am I focusing on you too much? I can see how that¡¯d come ¡®cross as funny. That¡¯s cool.¡± He blinked his eyes straight. ¡°I¡¯ll spill the beans. You, ah, just sit there and catch whatever flies out of my mouth.¡± He smiled and reached over to a bag. Once he swiped his finger across the perfectly sealed top, the bag sliced open -- it worked kinda like a zipper. Then he began to rummage inside. ¡°Okay. While I look for this, you wanna tell me how Mommy Dearest has been doing?¡±

    I tensed up, took a deep breath, and decided to give him the fact. ¡°She¡¯s dead.¡±

    ¡°...sorry to hear that. How did her nine-billionth kid take that?¡± He pulled out a holoprojector and sat it in his lap. ¡°I¡¯m going out on a limb and say you¡¯re still shaken-up about it?¡±

    ¡°If I was, I¡¯d take some suppressants and be cool about it.¡± Nathaniel just shrugged at my logic. ¡°What? You don¡¯t think I would?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I actually do, but that is besides the point. You haven¡¯t been taking any damn suppressants for the past two years since we got the news.¡± He activated the holovid and I saw the static burp up an image for a nanosecond. At least, I thought I did? Maybe I had imagined it. ¡°Oh what the Hell!? Don¡¯t be leaving me hanging like that¡­ piece of junk.¡±

    I wanted to change the subject. ¡°Well, you wanted to talk. Tell me, if you can¡¯t show me.¡±

    ¡°Nah. This is definitely a show-n-tell. Give me another minute.¡± He smacked the holoprojector a few times as if violence was going to fix it. ¡°Why don¡¯t you take them?¡±

    ¡°No clue.¡± Nathaniel stopped tinkering for a moment.

    He looked at me and asked: ¡°You want to explain that one?¡±

    I shook my head and said, ¡°Forget about it.¡±

    He faced me and pointed at me, but also had a look on his face like he¡¯d just now remembered something. ¡°You took my advice, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Your advice?¡± I thought back to what kind of advice I¡¯d been crazy enough to heed from him. I shook my head when nothing came up.

    ¡°Yeah! Holy shit! You actually listened to me!? Fucking unreal¡­ okay, dude, you shouldn¡¯t do things like that, but I¡¯m real damn happy what I said sunk in.¡± My confusion had gone up another defcon level and I began to feel a little irritated. And Nathaniel laughed. I might have been wrong, but I thought he saw my annoyance. When he sobered, he asked: ¡°Any luck with the women?¡±

    Once he asked that, it all came to me. I slapped and sank my face down into my palm. ¡°That¡¯s -- no. No such luck.¡± I shook my head and added: ¡°Not even the shrink helped. All he did was point out my problems, but not what I¡¯m looking for in women.¡±

    ¡°Yeah? What¡¯s your problem? Oh, wait, correction: problems.¡± My wrist was grabbed and my hand was pulled away from my face by him. He leaned in and asked: ¡°That was plural, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. It was.¡± Nathaniel spun his hand in the air to indicate I should tell all. ¡°He thinks I¡¯m compensating.¡±

    It was his turn to snort back and refrain from laughing, but I didn¡¯t know why until he explained. ¡°Dude. You are not a dud. I¡¯m sorry, but I¡¯ve seen it and you¡¯re gonna make a lady very happy.¡±

    I immediately shook my head. ¡°No-o. That wasn¡¯t what he meant.¡± A sigh escaped and I thought about what I could tell Nathaniel that wasn¡¯t too personal. ¡°He pointed out I go looking for trouble on a regular basis. That everyone I¡¯ve included in my life has had some problem they couldn¡¯t have managed on their own.¡±

    He paused a moment to reflect on what I said before he blurted out in confusion: ¡°Yeah, you do, but how is that compensating?¡±

    The answer to that was on the too-personal-to-talk-about subject. ¡°Let¡¯s just say I wasn¡¯t always there for someone when I should have.¡±

    Nathaniel smacked my shoulder and roughly shook me. He had a smile on his face as he stated: ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it¡­ well now, here¡¯s someone for you, man. ¡®Till the end of time.¡±

    I smiled back and nodded, but I wasn¡¯t entirely sure if he was my best choice in a lifetime companion. I mean, technically he was going to be with me until we got hit. ¡°Yeah. Thanks. Just don¡¯t go doing any favors for Betelgeuse and blow us up with one of your pranks.¡±

    He smacked my shoulder hard before he leaned back in his seat to tinker with the holoprojector again. ¡°Pfft! How the fuck am I going to blow us --¡±

    We both flinched away from his holoprojector when it exploded in an intense flash. I took a look at Nathaniel and saw his lap and abdomen had begun to reknit where they were burned -- skin by thought and clothes by nanites.

    I would have said something witty, but dropped my thought because Nathaniel was a harsher critic. ¡°Don¡¯t ever listen to what I tell you or it¡¯s just gonna go kablooie.¡±

    I had to ask: ¡°Am I going to regret taking that advice?¡±

    He held his hands up to the sides of his head and imitated his head exploding as he said, ¡°Don¡¯t ask me that. That¡¯s mind blowing.¡±

    We laughed for a good while until I pointed out that his show-n-tell was gonna have to be fully narrated. Despite how sullen he became with that news, I enjoyed his attempt. He was funny.

    I felt better knowing I had him with me. He knew how to make the last of our days a blast...

    <hr>

    The sunlight had woken me.

    There was a regular beat, not rhythmic, but constant. The noise was mixed with a familiar clop of horses¡¯ hooves. The other noise was different¡­ a squeaky grind and a chorus of stomps.

    I had blinked the sleep out and caught the column of the Nangjang¡¯s soldiers behind us in the extreme corner of my vision. With a backward glance, I saw many were equipped with a bow or had a long spear in hand. They kept vigilant when we passed hills that had obscured what lay beyond our vision.

    Almost all the regional soldiers of Kirin were on the march. Within their ranks, they escorted horse-drawn carts. The transports squeaked with the weight of camp supplies, provisions, and those who were too injured to walk.

    And the casualties of the battle were secluded in bundles somewhere further to the back of the column.

    I looked up and over my shoulder at the sky. ¡°Mutengge?¡±

    He glanced behind himself. ¡°Sleep well?¡±

    My legs stretched down and along the horse we rode before I answered: ¡°Yes.¡± Sleeping while sitting up on a horse and against a rider¡¯s back wasn¡¯t the most comfortable. But the sleep I¡¯d gotten today was far better than the last time I¡¯d slept on a horse by miles.

    I would have slept better with my tigerskin blanket, but Mutengge insisted I not wear anything to associate myself with the current events.

    When I shifted to see what was up ahead, I was startled to see the familiar slope to my village. I wanted to see more, so I leaned further to the side until I had the burnt husk of my village in sight.

    I had expected to see the villagers begin reconstruction, but I should have known that would be too soon after the danger had passed through.

    My thoughts of the nobi returning shifted to the tired soldiers on the march. The soldiers who weren¡¯t kept alert to the possible dangers appeared eagerly ready to rest and doze off at a moment¡¯s notice. I caught that tell-tale sign from a few who were dragging their feet.

    Mutengge had ordered the census right before nightfall, but I had been the one who refused reason and defiantly searched for Songgotu. For what I¡¯d caused, I felt sorry for the soldiers and the harm to Mutengge¡¯s reputation.

    To hug him, my arms wrapped around his waist and squeezed tightly. With my face pressed against his back, I muffed out: ¡°Sorry.¡±

    He used my name in query. ¡°Tasha?¡±The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    I took a moment to concentrate on my vocabulary. When I had in my mind the sentence structure, I spoke: ¡°Songgotu was kind. I only meant to give my respects to him.¡± The memory of the young soldier filled my mind. The very last time I¡¯d seen him was the most heartbreaking moment. ¡°Songgotu said ¡®stay.¡¯¡± My face pressed harder into Mutengge¡¯s back as I stated: ¡°I didn¡¯t. Now Songgotu¡¯s dead.¡±

    The horse abruptly cantered off and out of the column. Then we came to a stop.

    My arms unwound from Mutengge as he dismounted. He turned and picked me up and off the horse, settled me down, but he knelt down and still held me.

    He suddenly pulled me into a tight hug and said, ¡°Don¡¯t blame yourself. His death is my fault.¡± His hand soothingly rubbed my entire back and it coaxed comfort into me. ¡°When I saw him, I ordered him to return to you. He was to guard you until I had settled matters with the Xi.¡±

    Now I understood why Songgotu had only returned with a couple of soldiers. He was likely accompanied by backup to ensure no stray horsemen caught him alone. But when he and his escort saw me in distress¡­

    I hugged Mutengge back and buried my face down into his robes to keep my face dry and voice quiet as I began to cry. His hand raised up to the back of my head and gently began to smooth my hair back and down my neck.

    ¡°Tasha¡­ we all make mistakes. I¡¯ve made horrifying judgements.¡± I didn¡¯t hear him speak for a few seconds before his voice cracked as he spoke: ¡°The village here, and other villages elsewhere, are in this state because of me. I was the one who suggested we not engage.¡±

    That caused me to pull my face away and stare up at him. ¡°Why?¡±

    I knew why¡­ I had reasoned it out of the girl¡¯s knowledge before I had been captured.

    I wanted Mutengge to confirm I was right. ¡°Their objective wasn¡¯t to raid the villages, but to draw us out. Sagujin would¡¯ve taken the opportunity to ford across and deeper to reach Pyeongwon.¡±

    The name didn¡¯t register at all with me. ¡°Pyeongwon?¡±

    He regained some of his composure and explained: ¡°Our king.¡± He smiled down at me and assured me: ¡°I¡¯ll ensure you are provided with an education on all courtly matters and more.¡± His gaze lifted from me and swept across the marching column. ¡°You must be prepared before.¡±

    The rational part of me had fitted together Mutengge¡¯s cryptic last words with all that had happened up until now. He wanted me to be ready before our kingdom¡¯s court took advantage of my abnormality. But with my disposition to having temperamentally vicious outbursts, let alone my struggling attempts at having a decent conversation, preparations would be difficult -- if not impossible in a short amount of time.

    ...unless he was suggesting something? I asked: ¡°Home?¡±

    After patting me on the head, he announced: ¡°You require much before the world learns of you.¡± He leaned down, but I shut my eyes for an instant as he flattened my hair with his bushy-faced kiss on my head. ¡°You will find a home with my family.¡±

    I cheered up a little with that knowledge confirmed --

    -- then became confused as he quickly pulled me to his side and held perfectly still.

    A few seconds passed until I felt the earth shake beneath my feet.

    ¡°Tasha. Do nothing. We must keep you a secret as much as we can.¡± He lifted me up; I grabbed around his neck and shoulders in return as he carried me back to the horse.

    We mounted back up and instantly galloped to get ahead of the column. I believed that was where the Nangjang was located. Likely Mutengge wanted to convene and consult with him on what was approaching us all.

    Once we reached the Nangjang, the column had already begun to transform into something more formidably solid. Everyone had their shoulders aligned with their neighbors as they faced the open hills.

    The Nangjang faced us and barked out a word: ¡°Bogui!¡±

    I felt Mutengge¡¯s back stiffen. He responded: ¡°I feared as much. How many of the Xiang has he brought with him?¡±

    ¡°Enough.¡± The Nangjang pointed at us and stated: ¡°I told you he was responsible for this. That pup thinks he can rebuild the Xiongnu.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Mutengge brought our horse up beside the Nangjang¡¯s mount. ¡°I still believe Bogui would rather keep us on friendly terms. He¡¯s dealing with Puliuru Jian¡¯s expansion into Xianbei.¡±

    The Nangjang pointedly announced: ¡°We will soon see!¡± Then he turned his horse away to face the direction of horsemen galloping over the hills toward us and the solidified column. ¡°If he so much as hints at being responsible for what happened here -- Juhyunwul!¡±

    The robust man rushed his mount instantly by Mutengge¡¯s side. ¡°Yes, Nangjang!¡±

    ¡°Archers on the slope,¡± ordered the Nangjang.

    ¡°Yes, Nangjang!¡± Juhyunwul raced to meet the demand before the Xiang acted.

    I watched their approach, but I was more focused on their outfits. Unlike the Xi, they were armored from head to toe. Like one giant robe of heavy armor. Even the horses wore the same armor blanketed over their broad and long frame.

    The armor appeared to be segmented with... metal?

    If the Xi would¡¯ve had a rough time walking, the Xiang would find a real challenge when they dismounted.

    ...except I doubted they ever would leave their saddles. A vast number of armored horsemen kept flooding over the hills until the green and yellow was lost.

    Among all of the combat-ready Xiang, there stood out only one who wore much less than the vastly numbered tribe. Or were the Xiang a confederation?

    At last, the Xiang halted their advance with a moderate distance from the Kirin.

    Except for the less armored Xiang. He directed his armored charger toward us.

    As my sight of him became more clear, I noted his windswept short and long hair was interesting. His front bangs were long, but kept up with a leather band around his head. On both sides of his head, from above the ears and down, what long hair he had was ornately beaded to dangle and clink together over his shoulders.

    And he was the first person I¡¯d seen not with full black hair. There were traces of sunset-red in his hair. Especially lighter in the fringes on his long bangs.

    Up close, I noted what he wore was an open vest made of some animal hide. He was lean, but from what I could see of his bare chest, he had a well-defined musculature beneath those tribal clothes.

    I caught myself focusing too much on how appealing he looked. That had to have been an influence from the girl! After I resolved my funny emotions, I redirected my attention onto our eventual meeting.

    Mutengge brought our horse up to meet him. ¡°Bogui.¡±

    ¡°Mutengge.¡± I blinked when I realized that was Bogui speaking.

    He was young! I mean, he appeared older than me, but in reflection of Mutengge and the Nangjang, Bogui was a freshmen compared to those seniors.

    And he had a very unsettling expression. He had yet to blink! He stared at Mutengge, then lazily drifted past him and glanced up. I followed his gaze and saw the bowmen on the slope.

    When I turned back to look at Bogui, he faced Mutengge once more as if he could care less about the archers the Nangjang had aimed at him.

    Bogui looked beyond us, at my burnt village. ¡°The ones who fought till the end were not soldiers.¡±

    Mutengge shared: ¡°Waegonobi.¡±

    ¡°Whether it be child or woman, Sagujin killed everyone in sight.¡± He faced us once more, but his emotionless eyes drifted down to me as I peeked up from behind Mutengge. ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡±

    Pushing me out of Bogui¡¯s sight, Mutengge softly backed his elbow into me as he stated: ¡°My daughter.¡±

    Despite being startled at his response, I still peeked under his arm!

    Bogui shifted his uninterested attention back to Mutengge. ¡°Do you know where I may find Sagujin?¡± He sounded bored. And appeared entirely unenthused.

    Mutengge gently informed the young Xiang: ¡°I am afraid not. We had troubles finding our own among the dead.¡±

    ¡°Ah, shame. I would have enjoyed being the one to rip out his throat.¡± With a smile, Bogui finally displayed a spark of life. ¡°I heard a tiger tore it out.¡±

    I had to wonder, if he already knew the man¡¯s fate, why was he questioning Mutengge with an implication of having no previous knowledge of Sagujin? Unless Bogui was confirming the hearsay?

    ¡°Then I would suggest searching for a man with no head.¡± When Mutengge said that, Bogui lost his smile and abruptly turned away from us. He galloped back to his armored horsemen --

    -- and the Xiang turned around at a gradual gallop away from the Kirin.

    I tugged on Mutengge¡¯s robe to grab his attention and asked: ¡°Bogui leave?¡±

    He reached behind himself and gave me a reassuring pat where he could. ¡°Yes.¡± With some difficulty, he turned to look down and to face me. ¡°Did you see how he looked?¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡± I clapped my mouth shut immediately. My response was louder than I¡¯d intended in my interest to talk about Bogui. Excited?

    Mutengge laughed a short moment at my embarrassing exclamation. With a smile, he tugged down on his cheek to show the red under his eye. ¡°I meant his appearance.¡±

    I muffled an apology behind my hands: ¡°Sorry.¡±

    He explained: ¡°Bogui is exhausted. For him, and the tribes to have assembled, to have rushed all the way here this quickly -- all to be told he was too late -- has weighed on him in a single instant.¡± He faced forward once more and righted himself more comfortably on our horse. And talked more to himself than to me. ¡°He has told me what happened.¡± A moment passed in silence as I felt and heard his lungs be filled enough to straighten his back and square his shoulders. ¡°That was worth the effort for him come here. For that, he has my appreciation.¡± A great sigh had heaved out of him as he said, ¡°Sagujin defected to the Sui.¡±

    I asked: ¡°Sui?¡±

    And he indirectly clarified as he spoke to himself a little more. ¡°An empire to the southwest of us. The Xiang have been our buffer from them until recently. It will only be a matter of time¡­ Pyeongwon can apologize as much as he wants. Puliuru Jian wants an excuse.¡±

    He directed our horse away from the retreating Xiang. When we joined back with the Nangjang, Mutengge explained the conversation and situation.

    We resumed our march through the burned remains, making our way to the river. Once there, the column followed the river to the city.

    Our eventual arrival to the city was met with a sombering sight. There were a countless number of squatters around the walled city. Inside was much worse as we became crowded by the traffic of what I assumed were refugees.

    I kept my mouth shut about asking anything. I didn¡¯t want to know what would truly could happen to these people.

    My wish was for them to find hope and live¡­ but I knew they were nobi. How could someone willingly return to a life like that?

    We dismounted and I had been greeted with household servants. I wanted to ask if they were nobi as well, but I refrained.

    With me in silence, Mutengge had busied himself with the casualties we had brought with us, the results of ending the Xi¡¯s incursions. They would all be buried while in the meantime I would be cleansed and made presentable by the servants.

    Bathing...

    Again, I had kept myself quiet on how the dead would be treated. I knew he was following the orders of the Nangjang.

    But I wondered what would become of the maimed and injured soldiers¡­

    With a focused effort, I drifted onto a less pessimistic train of thought: my introduction to the city!

    I overheard much talk while I remained in silence. It was surprising how the chatty servants allowed me to gather information without asking. Maybe they thought I was mute?

    I was quietly enlightened.

    The city of Gungnae. I learned it had once been the capital of the kingdom, but far too many times had invaders sacked the place -- even with the nearby mountain fortress of Hwando.

    A new capital had been relocated much further to the south in a province, formerly a kingdom called Nakrang. Just as the province of Kirin had a major river, so did the province of Nakrang, and their city¡¯s capital resided and heavily relied on their river.

    Apparently our kingdom of Goguryeo was expansive to have multiple annexed kingdoms within its borders.

    In my first observation of the city, I appraised the impression and Gungnae bore the initial concept I had of the girl¡¯s mental image: a settlement. Now that had been a harsh criticism only because I was accustomed to the achievable potential humanity could bring to the stars.

    ...I had yet to understand what had happened to me, but I doubted I¡¯d discover an answer. In the meantime, I explored the world from my new perspective.

    Broken or crushed rocks were used to pave the road. Several bridges of dark wood spanned over the stretch of water intersecting the city. Many of the citizens and refugees frequented the bank.

    Upon closer inspection of the city, I concluded the river was certainly the major provider to the inhabitants. With an intelligent guess, the homes appeared made of a combination of brick, stone, and clay from the river.

    The bricks themselves were the size of my entire torso!

    Many of those bricks appeared to be utilized to contain elevated earth works. The city rose on up with a serpentine road linked with all the residential areas on one side of the river. The other side of the river was peppered with raised hills and a crazy webwork of dirt roads. Likely those roads were naturally created rather than founded and leveled for the people.

    A simple look was all I required to compare which side was for the wealthy and not.

    Standing on the four corners of some buildings, cracked clay exposed patches of great logs.

    I had a theory, a case that proved the river was a major factor to the city. The trees had probably come from the sporadic woods in the hilly mountains. With the river so close, all the men had to do was dunk the logs in and they¡¯d floated down the river to the city for collections.

    None would be floating in the river. Not after the recent incursions. Many villages would be abandoned by their populations massacred or the hard working men called into service. Or the nobi were conscripted.

    Could the injured truly return to the lives they had placed on hold? In the eyes of their masters, are the nobi worth being treated? Or did the Kirin have a method to acquire more?

    Mutengge promised I would be taught and I looked forward to the tutelage.

    Within a society that placed a set value on lives, I eventually would¡¯ve figured out that it was an honor to die a clean death in battle rather than to suffer through a life of ruin. A lesson I would have to carry with me forever if I wanted to live as humanly as possible.

    A turning point in my new life happened when Mutengge concluded his business. He retrieved me and led me to his home. And to be introduced to my new family.

    My few days living as a wild child had ended...

    <hr>

    EPILOGUE

    The following years would become relatively peaceful.

    But I had no idea at the time how I¡¯d be dragged into an ugly war between three kings.

    Or be confronted with the passionate ambitions of a tribal chieftain.

    And together being the cause of an imperial dynasty¡¯s fall.

    Those would be parts attributed to another story of my immortal life.

    [End of Wild Child. Tasha will return a few years older.]