Skyborn

by Cameron Bolling

  Wulshe clapped a hand on Onet’s shoulder, a full hand’s length above his own. “Onet, perhaps offer an introduction to Oleja?”

  “Quinje Onet,” he said, and held out his hand to her. He was younger than Wulshe by perhaps twenty years, but still at least a decade older than Oleja. After he released her hand, he combed his fingers through his black hair, shaking sand from the dark tangles, and drew his hood back up.

  Wulshe shrugged. “You’ll have to excuse him. He doesn’t take kindly to having weapons pointed at him. But then, few of us do. Ah, there they are.”

  Oleja followed his gaze. Up ahead gathered a group of people amidst a circle of ruins. For a moment Oleja thought to turn around. Walking into a larger gathering took the option of fighting her way through them in groups off the table, and she still didn’t know if she should trust these people. But when she looked closer at the figures, she noticed Pahlo among them, speaking animatedly with a woman who smiled as she listened. He turned as they approached.

  “Oleja! Look!” he called out with a wave and a gesture to the others who stood with him. A wide grin split his face.

  Around Pahlo stood three others, each one clad in the same white outfit as Wulshe and Onet. A large cart sat just behind them. Wood comprised the body of it, set with four large spoked wheels of wood and metal. An arched canvas tent covered the top, and a wooden gate and dingy curtain at the back allowed access to the interior while concealing whatever lay within. How the group managed to pull such a thing was impressive.

  “This must be your companion,” said one woman from the group to Pahlo. She was older, though not as old as Wulshe. Her skin was darker than either man’s, though still a few shades lighter than Oleja’s or Pahlo’s. Brown curls streaked with grey fell around her face, barely brushing her neck and jawline. She held a hand out to clasp Oleja’s. “I am Casmia Lashinel. I’m the leader of this party of raiders. I see you found Gleathon and Onet.”

  “This is Oleja Raseani, she’s a feisty one—quick on her weapons,” said Wulshe to the group.

  “It’s ‘Raseari,’” said Oleja with a glare. Nevertheless, she took Casmia’s hand. The woman’s grasp was firm. Oleja’s was more so.

  Behind her, Pahlo approached Wulshe and Onet. “I’m Pahlo Dirin, nice to meet you.” Oleja could only assume he shook their hands and got their names as well, but she didn’t turn to look. She kept her attention on Casmia, sizing up the self-described “leader.”

  Casmia released first and gestured to the others behind her. “And these are two other members of my crew.” The pair came forward. The first was a woman around Casmia’s age, while the second was much younger. Aside from age, the pair looked incredibly similar, with the same light brown hair and pale colorless skin. The older woman’s hair was cut short, while the girl’s fell in waves down to her upper back. Both had the same narrow jaw, high cheekbones, and noses identical in shape. Most startling, however, were their eyes—not a dark shade like every other pair Oleja had ever seen, but a pale and shining blue like that of the sky. She could not help but stare.

  “I’m Hylde,” said the older woman, “and this is my daughter, Kella.” She put an arm around the girl’s shoulders and squeezed. Kella looked at Oleja with eyes and smile alike stretched wide.

  “We don’t often run into younger travelers,” said Kella. “I’m eleven, the youngest of the raiders by…” she scrunched up her face as she counted in her mind, “fifteen years.”

  “Your eyes…” was all Oleja said in response.

  “My—”

  “Seems she had never seen light skin until Onet and I,” said Wulshe. “The same probably goes for your eyes.”

  Kella looked back at Oleja. “Oh! Yes, they’re blue, like my mom’s.”

  Oleja smiled. “They’re nice.”

  Wulshe let out a huff behind her. “She was scared of our skin—how come you get the compliments?”

  “I wasn’t scared,” she said, turning to face him. Wulshe cracked a toothy grin.

  “Ah, I jest! No harm, no harm.”

  Casmia took him by the shoulder and steered him away. “Leave her alone, Gleathon. Go see if you can find Jeth and Trayde, I don’t know what’s taking them so long.”

  Wulshe shuffled away, muttering to himself. Casmia approached Oleja and Pahlo.

  “So, you two—will you be joining us, or do you travel alone? We always welcome new recruits. The more hands we have, the more loot we can gather to trade. That’s our business, of course—we travel through ruins searching for useful items among them.” She looked the two of them up and down. “You’re both young and strong. But it’s your choice. We leave soon.” With a nod to each of them in turn, she took her leave and went to check on something in the cart. Pahlo pulled Oleja aside.

  “We could get their help fighting the earthborn!” he said excitedly, though he kept his voice low. “They all have weapons, and probably at least some idea of how to fight. They aren’t an army, but they could fight with us.”

  Oleja shook her head immediately. “No, I won’t drag them into this. I don’t even know if I can trust them.”

  Pahlo frowned. “They seem nice enough.”

  “Maybe. It doesn’t matter. I don’t need their help, I just need more time to think and to deal with Honn. I don’t need soldiers, I need time.”

  Pahlo considered this for a minute, looking back to the group. “In the meantime, we could still travel with them,” he said with a small, hopeful smile. Oleja looked back over her shoulder. At the very least, they’d find safety in numbers—assuming the dangers didn’t come from within. But Pahlo was right—they seemed like well-meaning people. They had food and water as well. And if Oleja was honest, the prospect of going to other ruins and searching for useful loot excited her; perhaps she could find what she needed for a new glider.

  For the moment, it couldn’t hurt to travel with the raiders. But only until the time came to go back and rescue her people.

  “Fine,” she said. “But I don’t think we should tell them about Honn just yet. Might be best to disclose that later. If they know we are being hunted, they may not want anything to do with us.”

  Pahlo pursed his lips. “All right.”

  The pair rejoined the group. Casmia watched them approach.

  “You will join us then?” she asked, her head poking out through the curtain in the back of the cart.

  “We will, at least for a time, if that is acceptable,” responded Oleja.

  “Splendid.” Casmia ducked inside and reemerged a moment later with two folded bundles of white cloth. She tossed one to each of them. “Here, put these on. They will keep you cool in the harsh desert sun. Do you each have enough water?”

  Oleja withdrew from her bag the clay canteen she carried from her village. “I have this. I filled it just this morning from the stream.” Pahlo held up his waterskin.

  “Here, take these,” said Casmia and tossed them each another waterskin, both full. “Drinking plenty of water is the best way to fight the heat. We have more in the wagon for refills.” She pulled aside the curtain to reveal a wide metal drum with a spigot on the side. “Ah, there’s Jeth and Trayde, finally.”

  Wulshe returned, and with him walked two others. They wore the same white robes as the rest of the group and toted full backpacks that matched the ones Wulshe and Onet carried, which they had since unloaded into the wagon. The trio approached Oleja and Pahlo.

  “We have some newbies here,” said Wulshe, gesturing to the two of them. Oleja stepped up to greet the two new faces. Both looked young, somewhere in their twenties. One was a man with skin so dark he looked to have absorbed all the color the others had lost. He was taller than her by a few inches, and just as muscled. His dark brown hair bounced as he swung his pack off and put out a hand.

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Jethilan Nodo.”

  “Oleja Raseari,” she said. He shook Pahlo’s hand and got his name next.

  The girl beside Jethilan wore a complexion like Ol
eja’s own. Her dark hair was shaved close to her scalp. Though she and Oleja were nearly matched in height, the other girl looked taller from a distance due to her wiry frame, all muscle and bone. Her greeting came in the form of a sneer-like smile and a wave. Oleja gladly accepted the odd welcome—if she had to shake one more hand, she’d lose her mind. Nothing would save her from having to remember the whole chorus of new names and their corresponding faces, however, though it helped that, for some reason, everyone in the group looked startlingly different—more so than Oleja knew possible.

  “Fressa Trayde,” said the girl. “But just call me Trayde. You don’t look all that old—how old are you, kid?”

  “Nineteen.”

  “I’m seventeen… uh, in case you wanted to know that too,” said Pahlo. “How old are you?”

  Trayde looked him up and down with a smirk. “Too old for you, cattleboy.”

  Pahlo’s face reddened. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean… I wasn’t, like, flirting. Just trying to be polite. Wait, how do you know I’ve worked with cattle?”

  “You reek of it. You seen the horses yet? They’re mine, had ‘em since before I joined the raiders.”

  Pahlo looked around. “You have horses?”

  Trayde rolled her eyes. “How else are we hauling that thing around?” She stuck her thumb at the wagon. Oleja kept quiet—not only because she thought they pulled it, but also because she didn’t know what a horse was. If she had to guess, she’d definitely venture to say it was some type of animal.

  Trayde went to the wagon and tossed her backpack inside, then returned. “I actually have to go fetch the horses now. I left ‘em to graze in a field just that way near the river.” She pointed southwest and looked to Pahlo. “If you can ride, you can come.”

  Pahlo beamed. “I can ride! Well, mostly. I’ve done it a few times.”

  Trayde shrugged. “Eh, good enough for me. Come on.” She headed off with Pahlo at her heels.

  Oleja put on her new clothes. They were surprisingly light and cool. She stuffed her old tattered shirt and pants into her bag—even if she didn’t wear them again, the fabric could be useful for other things.

  A short while later, Trayde and Pahlo returned. Oleja jumped in fright when they rushed in atop a pair of the largest animals Oleja had ever seen. One was brown, and the other was grey. Each had a long neck with hair in neat little braids. Their feet seemed to be hard like bone, as each step on the stone ground resulted in a loud clop. Oleja backed away and gave the animals plenty of space. Wulshe eyed her from the side.

  “Horses!” he called out to her, as if answering a question before she asked it.

  “I know that!” she shouted back. She didn’t like being treated like a fool.

  When the horses were hitched to the wagon, Casmia surveyed everything and counted the group.

  “Right then. Shall we head out?” From a pocket in her clothes she withdrew a folded piece of paper, opened it up, and looked over whatever was depicted on the other side. “Southwest will take us around this plateau to the next ruins,” she said. She looked back up at the group and smiled. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Nine

  The wagon was strictly for carrying supplies and not to ease the burden of walking, as it turned out. If Casmia had not explained that they walked alongside the wagon rather than seated inside, Oleja would likely have urged them all to do so anyway in order to lessen the weight for the horses and increase their speed. Even without the burden of bodies, the wagon was not fast by any means, and the group set their pace by the slowness of it. Oleja felt as though they moved forward by the inch. The cart bumped along, catching and creaking and sliding over the uneven terrain. The sandier patches gave no reprieve—the wheels sank into the soft sand, putting additional strain on the horses just to keep it going. Oleja could hardly imagine how much slower their travel would progress if they all rode aboard—if, under such circumstances, the horses could even move at all. Just because she joined the group did not mean she no longer prioritized speed. Anxiety burrowed deeper and deeper into her mind as the day wore on.

  Multiple times she approached Casmia, who led the party in front of the wagon, to ask about their route and destination. Casmia showed her the paper she carried—a map of the area—but only briefly. It seemed to be of great importance to her, and she kept it close. She said the ruins they aimed for lay due west of the ones they had left, but their path cut around in a wide semicircle in order to stick to the lower, flat terrain where the wagon could pass with relatively little trouble. Her best estimate was that they’d arrive the following day. Oleja’s requests to see the map in more detail were politely declined. While she walked with the woman, Casmia took several curious glances at Oleja’s bag, which clattered against her hip as she walked.

  “What do you carry in the bag?” she asked at last.

  Oleja lifted the flap and exposed the contents. She took a few pieces in her hands, along with some of her tools. “Odds and ends mostly. Food and water too.”

  Casmia surveyed the collection. “That’s not too unlike the stuff we gather from the ruins, though often we look for things more intact, or old artifacts. Why do you collect it?”

  “I like to tinker,” said Oleja. “I make things—sometimes for a purpose, other times just for something to do.”

  “That’s impressive. We don’t typically use the scraps we gather, but trade them for items more useful to us. If you are versed in your skill, you could find an important role here among the team.”

  “I’d like to think I am,” said Oleja with a smile. “Although, typically I need more specialized parts to make anything worthwhile. What I carry is mostly generic additional components.”

  “Come with me,” said Casmia, and started off on a path that led them around behind the wagon. She opened the gate and hoisted herself up through the curtains, then extended a hand to Oleja to aid her. Oleja managed without the help. She pushed through the curtains and into the dimly lit bed of the wagon.

  Shelves lined the sides, each holding rows of crates and boxes. More piles of stuff filled the center, creating two aisles down the length of the wagon. Casmia went to a few boxes and began pulling them from the shelves. Each sang with the familiar shrill sound of metal clanking against metal.

  “We have a wide variety of things in here,” said Casmia, sifting through the contents. “Feel free to take a look. If anything catches your eye, let me know. It’s all property of the raider party, but if you have a worthy design that will benefit us or perhaps that we could sell, run it by me and I may let you use it.” Casmia smiled to Oleja. “It’s good to have you on board; with your skillset, I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

  “Thank you,” said Oleja, but she didn’t have time to say more—such as voice her question asking what she meant by selling things—before Casmia ducked back out of the wagon to retake her position at the front.

  Oleja left the wagon soon after, knowing her added weight would only slow the horses more, and though excitement beckoned her to see what sort of tinkering materials the raiders carried, Honn still lurked in the shadows of her mind.

  She returned to walk beside Pahlo. He kept pace where the two had taken up a position at the back of the group between Oleja’s trips up to ask Casmia about their route. Not long after Oleja rejoined him, the younger girl, Kella, fell back and walked alongside them.

  “Hey,” she said, a note of shyness in her voice. “Uh, what do you think of your new clothes?”

  “Surprisingly cool,” said Oleja.

  “And really soft,” added Pahlo, running his hands over them.

  “Yeah, they are,” said Kella, looking down at her own. “We got them from a merchant in a town back northeast a ways. She said we would want them if we planned to travel south because it would get hot. And it certainly has. We traded for a few extras to keep as spares, so you two got pretty lucky.”

  “A town?” asked Oleja. “Like, other people?”

  Kella gave her a funny look
that Oleja could only partially see beneath the girl’s veil. “Yes, that’s what a town is. Have you never been to one?”

  “We haven’t,” said Pahlo. “Up until a few days ago, we both lived as slaves, and no one from our villages knew anything about the world. Oleja escaped and brought me with her.” He beamed. Oleja ground her teeth. That was not information she wanted to disclose—it carried too much shame.

  Kella’s eyes widened. “Oh! That explains a lot! So how much do you know about the world outside of… uh… where you were?”

  “Nothing really,” said Pahlo.

  “We know a good deal,” said Oleja.

  Kella looked between the two of them. “Well, I can help try to fill in any gaps.”

  “That would be great!” said Pahlo. “What’s the story with the ruins? Where did they come from? What were they?”

  Kella’s face lit up. “Aren’t they cool? They used to be towns a long time ago, back in the Old World. Now you’re lucky to find any structures in them that can still be considered buildings, but they used to have thousands of people living in them. Most of the useful stuff has been looted or decomposed long ago, but we collect materials and stuff too, then bring them to towns to trade.”

  The idea of looting the ruins excited Oleja more and more as people talked about it in greater detail. It sounded a lot like what she did at The Heap, but on a larger and more adventurous scale. Perhaps after she freed her people she would return and join the raiders again or start her own group.

  Pahlo looked around in wonder. “Thousands of people… I’ve heard about the Old World—there are a few stories that mention it floating around amongst the people I’ve spoken to, but I never knew so many people lived back then. What happened to them all?”

  “I don’t know,” said Kella with a sigh. “I’ve asked after that information, and so have my moms and the raiders and others we’ve met. A lot of information and history about the Old World was lost, that bit included. From what I’ve gathered, the world went through a period of incredible suffering and darkness for generations after whatever brought about the end. A lot of people died. But eventually, those who survived created new civilizations. Some say they don’t come anywhere close to rivaling what we used to be, but I can’t even imagine what a town of thousands would look like. It just seems too big.”