Welcome To My Newest World

The world was torn asunder

By a blanket where wind and dust flew

But as it were

The peoples there were too

Torn between worlds

One of markets and wood and a sky so blue

And

One of dusty skies and colorful whirls

But the wind and dust wasn’t what separated the two

It seems

But the canons and daggers and fire that flew

Each leaving immeasurable open seams

Scars

In the world

Every shadow on the wall

Every step that time took

Was a reminder of how little she could stall

(As she shuddered and shook)

The ever nearing sleep

That would take them away

And throw their shadows in a heap

Never again would there be a day

Where there would be more than one shadow

Never again would they smile or say

“Come,

“Can’t quite handle the assasination attempts, huh, Jeswakale?”

He shot around, still huffing and panting with fear, to find Swakavale. Back from the dead, from exile, leaning against a pillar just as he had the day he took her crown. Except she was smiling, though not from joy.

“I thought you were dead.” He gasped, his voice harsh and raspy with malice.

She simply laughed in return, “Me? Never.”

The body of whatever poor rebel who had been pushed too far, and had been too desperate, lay crumpled in a heap near the throne. Jeswakale had stabbed them just in time. Poor soul.

Jeswakale coughed and sputtered, reeling from shock.

“You never wrote about this in your letter to me.” She smiled, “Do you want to know how many I survived?”

He had fallen to his knees, trembling.

Swakavale simply stepped forward, unphased, “At least 18. Maybe more.”

“Why… Why did you come back? Just to mock me?” He groaned.

“Back?” She cried, laughter clutching to the word, “I never left. Your little stunt kept me from my crown, but it did nothing to keep me away from my kingdom.”

She stopped in her tracks, “Did you honestly think I would just abandon my people? Just like that? Just as they did, as YOU did? No, Jeswakale I’m far more loyal.”

She got dangerously close to the hunched ruler, and she whispered into his trained backwards ears, “And there are others like me, even in your palace. How else do you think I got in? Just as you did.”

He finally met her gaze, but when he did, his eyes were deep with fear, his anger barely covered it up.

“Burn your guards to the ground in your search, you’ll only find yourself weaker.” She challenged his eyes, not a glint of fear shone in her own.

“I’ll see you around, Jeswakale. Just know that I am always looking out for what’s best for my kingdom. I’ll keep on watching, so you keep on digging yourself into this hole. No, no, keep it up! At this rate, I’ll be at the helm in no time.”

Before the former leader jumped out of the back window, wings and wing extenders flared, she turned.

“Oh and Jeswakale,” she looked him dead in the face as she lit an old green bracelet a once friend had given her long ago on fire and set upon the banner in the window where she stood, “Long live the rebellion.”

Kaemon breathed a sigh of relief and frolicked into the field near the garden. As she did, she felt her body get heavier with exhaustion, her bones and muscles grew weaker, but the pain was sweet.

She collapsed into the soft grass, laughing victoriously. Tears fell down her cheeks with a flood of solace because she knew this time flowers’ would grow in her place. Her body would become one with the home that she loved so deeply, and would sink into the earth.

Kaemon smiled weakly as her eyes whispered closed and she felt the soft kisses of death pepper her freckles.

But perhaps they weren’t the kisses of death at all, for when she opened her eyes she saw only the euphoric faces of her lovers. Tears dripped down both of their faces, adding to the wells of gratitude they possessed for whomever reunited them with their love.

“We made it.” Kaemon sobbed, unable to get close enough to Rehks and Suehm.

“We waited for you.” Suehm cried, hugging her fiercely.

And they had. Behind her and Rehks were the souls of their child, their grandchildren, their friends, the rebels previously lost, the souls that they had met and touched the hearts of along their life’s journey. They were all there. They had waited for her.

The field rejoiced at the homecoming of one who had thought it was impossible to do so.

Suehmleu had been sick for quite a while now, they all knew it, and she was old. Both Kaemon and Rehks, though old themselves, knew that they didn’t have much time left with her.

The cottage didn’t feel like it always did. The air felt heavy, and though the sun shone bright through the windows, it didn’t feel warm. The ground felt unwelcoming and the hearth felt uninviting. Each of the occupants constantly felt like they had a constant sob just waiting to burst forth in a fit of frustration with time itself. Why did it have to end?

The door to the room was closed, and Kaemon knelt beside the bed, a broken heap.

“I just-… I just wanted more time.” She sobbed, clutching Suehm’s frail hand as though it was already out of reach.

“I know…” came a rusty, melodic sigh from the pillow where Suehm’s head was laid, “But just think… we’ll be reunited again… Then-…then we’ll have all the time in the world.”

Dear spirits, please just a little more time. I’m never going to see her again, please, just a little longer.

Kaemon summoned what little strength she had left, and stood, using everything she had to look Suehm in the face, for what she knew deep down would be the last time, despite her pleas.

“Of-… of course-… course- we will, Suehm.” She lied, her sobs kept her from saying what was necessary.

“-See you-… then…” she breathed, and then stopped.

Suehmleu was entirely still, and every bit of sunshine, every small particle of warmth had disappeared with her.

Kaemon wailed, collapsing to her knees.

Rehks burst into the room in response to the scream. They tried to lean against the wall for support, but they slid down it, falling to the floor in a heap.

Kaemon didn’t notice, all there was was an excessive emptiness, a void and black hole. Rehks would be there, but there would always be a piece of them missing that neither could fill.

Kaemon couldn’t think, couldn’t imagine a future, couldn’t hear herself sobbing, she couldn’t breathe. She lied to her in her last moments. They would never reunite, not even in death. Kaemon wouldn’t die, she would never join them after death as promised. She had lied.

Rehks suddenly felt compelled to touch the two scars above her gill, when their fingers grazed the mark, they suddenly remembered everything. They heard it all again, felt everything.

The feeling of fear and rage choking her every heavy breath. The feeling of their back against the wall, their wings pressed so hard to the stone it felt as though they were breaking. The hand against their neck, the searing pain above their gill.

They were breathing heavily with the memory. It wasn’t supposed to still be so terrifying. She wanted to stop thinking, but they couldn’t. The memories spilled out too fast, they couldn’t catch them in time.

Rehks remembered the sound of the crowd, most of whom were cheering. They had done nothing, and they were cheering. She had done nothing, right? They felt the rage finally over take them again. They remembered the feeling of her fist finding its way to that bastard’s nose. She remembered the crack, the feeling of the bone breaking under their fist’s weight, and how powerful they felt. They remembered being held back by the gentle arms of her friend, but they couldn’t quite make out what their face looked like.

They could only remember the sensations. They couldn’t quite make anybody out, it was hazy. Perhaps the years of bad decisions covered it up. It’s a shame though, really, in hindsight it hadn’t even happened that long ago.

“Rehks!!” Kaemon shrieked.

The former assassin was shoved into a large cage in the back of a cart. They flashed an awkward, sad smile. It was a failed attempt at their usual cocky grin.

“C’mon Kae’ I’ve gotten out of worse!” She called back, trying to hide how terribly they were shaking.

Kaemon shook off the guards who were trying to drag her to the cage, and she ran up to the bars.

“I’m going to get you out of here.” She looked around widely, desperately.

“Kaemon.” Rehks grabbed her hand from outside the bars, looking into her eyes, “I’m going to get out of here. I’m not going down that easily, trust me.”

“I’ll try.” She replied before bolting from the scene, running in the direction the rest of the rebels had already fled.

Then she was gone, and Rehks was alone again.

“Well,” they thought, “Time to keep that promise.”

They let themselves be whisked away by the rickety cart, but as it stumbled across the road she got to work. She finagled a small pocket dagger from her back pocket and marched to the metal door. It was chained shut.

“Easy.” She murmured as she absentmindedly looked around to assure herself that she wasn’t being watched.

They quickly fidgeted with the lock, suddenly succeeding, forcing the cage open. She tumbled out onto the dusty wooden road, cursing at the clumsiness. The cage slammed.

Dammit. They’d know now.

Sure enough, the cart slowed. Rehks watched in anxious anticipation as she attempted to get up from the ground that they had fallen so heavily upon. It felt like their ankle was sprained or something.

“You rebel bastards don’t know how to just stay put do ya?” The guard’s hood had fallen from their head in frustration.

They marched towards the struggling icari, infuriated and steaming. The soldier was short, strong, and their scraggly beard accentuated their apparent constant anger. The guard threw themselves atop Rehks, pressing a dagger to their neck.

“Now, are you gonna cooperate with me, or are you gonna make me do this the hard way?” They growled.

Rehks smiled, the cockiness began to show, they had a plan, “Aren’t you on strict orders to bring me in alive?”

“Yes, but they said nothing about how alive you needed to be-!”

They were quickly cut off by Rehks’ spitting into their face, some getting into their mouth. The soldier sputtered, enraged, but it gave Rehks enough time to stab into the thigh of the guard, hopefully immobilizing them. As they cried out, Rehks weaseled away from their grasp, kicking as they went.

Unfortunately, they hadn’t had their wing-extenders on her, so they had no choice but to limp away a s fast as they could. Luckily, although they were out of practice, they were still a grade a (former) assassin. She could get out of tough scrapes.

As she jogged away, the best she could given her injury, they remarked to herself how oddly much more nerve racking this capture was. Usually it was no big deal. They had truly been in worse predicaments, she had stared death in the eyes and challenged them to take their best shot. This was an easy win, yet why was her heart pounding so fast? Why were they so shaky?

To burn was to offer the most final of victories.

A society couldn’t return from a burning, neither could a shoddy group of rebels. Burn their hideouts, burn their homes. How hard could cleaning up the mess be? He had the world at his command and they had more than enough water to spare, didn’t they? He didn’t care how large the blaze got, any monster could be controlled with the right weapons.

The children he cared nothing for, ate the ashes of the rotten food he burned in mass quantities. A spirit sobbed over the ashes of an old trading post. A rebel curled into their knees crying for their lost friend, the ashes burned their skin, yet they still stayed. An entire village and it’s history floated with the wind blanket, nothing but dust. The few that survived carried the memory with them as they cried for the children they lost, the same children who were being fed nothing but ash. But within each of the beings was a fire, some literally. The fire of memory and of passion and of love and of desperation. The memory of what was lost, became a hope for what could be found. Whether that was revenge or new life, didn’t matter.