by Kyle West
Who didn’t want that? In the end, though, I shook my head. “My mother would kill me.”
Honestly, there was a small part of me that wanted to go with Shara, but my mother would be horrified, and much more so my father. That alone was enough to dissuade me. As long as my father was alive, we still received a portion of his pay. Combined with our labor in the fields, it was enough to keep ourselves fed. When women joined the army, it was usually out of need. The women who wanted to volunteer had all signed up long ago.
“What’s happening with the war, anyway?” Shara asked. “Have you heard anything from the Council?”
The same recruiter shook his head. “We know as little as you. Some say the war is ending, but more are saying that it’ll be a while yet before anyone comes home.”
Shara nodded. “Thank you.”
We walked back the way we had come, and as we did so, Shara looked at Silver Bridge, which was mostly empty this afternoon. She touched my arm.
“What is it?” I asked.
She stared toward the city gates across the bridge. “Let’s go for a walk through the city. I want to see it one last time.” I nodded, and we changed direction to the bridge. “We need to get back soon, though. My mother is making dinner and I want you there. Something special for my last night.”
“Don’t say that,” I said.
“It’s the truth. I want to spend my last night with the people who matter.”
We walked across Silver Bridge, passing all the empty wooden stalls from which hundreds of merchants would be hawking their wares if this weren’t Sunday. Now, everything was just as empty. The river, which normally would have been filled with boats and barges, had just one, already distant and being carried south by the current. The river itself was wide and brown, and south I could see canals irrigating spreading fields of winter wheat.
At last, we approached the open Sunrise Gate. Colonia is a city of reds and browns, tall buildings, turrets, and domes. The stone comes from the sandstone quarries dug into the hills and cliffs northeast of the city. The style has been the city’s staple for centuries, though the older buildings were far more grandiose. Many, such as the Great Library of Annara, had been torched during the Liberation, two hundred and fifty years ago, and no longer existed. Walking through Colonia’s streets, you could almost feel its history weighing down on you. The tall buildings, bridges, plazas, and fountains had been built to last the ages. Religious statues, shrines, and temples occupied almost every corner, and it seemed wherever you turned, there was something beautiful to see. The Red Walls surrounded Colonia on every side with the exception of the river, and had been built during the time of Old Colonia, when the demon Elekai had ruled and oppressed the common people.
The east and the south were the finest parts of the city, concentrated around the Plaza of Sands and Red Cliff, on top of which brooded the Dome of Annara and the Red Bastion. The poor lived mostly in the north, and some in the west. The docks, called Riverside, were also a poorer part of town, and could be found in the northeast of the city. Riverside stretched beyond even the walls before transitioning into the Subura, the poorest area by far which lay on both sides of the river.
Colonia was the capital of the empire of the same name, and for two hundred and fifty years, it had been the seat of power for the Annaran Covenant. Before, it had belonged to the Elekai, who oppressed any who did not have their demon powers. After the Liberation, the Elekai were purged by the Hunters with either exile or execution – mostly the latter.
After the Liberation, there was a Great Purge that lasted about ten years and left thousands dead...many of whom were innocent. There had been other purges since, but none in recent years. The last had occurred during my grandparents’ generation. Still, the Hunters took their job seriously, and were represented even now on the Grand Council, which worked in concert with the Grand Pontifex to administer the Covenant.
As for the Elekai, what ones weren’t killed in the Great Purge were driven east, across the desert and into the Red Wild. That had been over two hundred and fifty years ago, and since that day, the Covenant had ruled in Colonia.
At its height, the Covenant administered an empire that had stretched as far west as California, and as far east as the Red Wild; as far north as the Barren, and as far south as Coloso. Colonia was small these days by comparison, mainly confined in and around the Colorado River, which was its lifeblood. Now, other people lived in California, called the Shen, though no one knew much about them. The rumor was that they lived in giant domes, but until I saw those, I would never believe such a thing. There had been a war with them about fifty years ago, where they had taken over the city of Brevia, which used to be a Colonian city.
And of course, there were always the Elekai to the east, somewhere in the Red Wild. It had been a long time since there was a major war with them, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be another. It was said that Annara foretold a Second Darkness to come. Elekim had ended the First Darkness with his sacrifice, which defeated the dark Elekai goddess, Askala. During the Second Darkness, Annara would be reborn and lead humanity to final victory against the Elekai with her Army of the Dawn. However, no one knew the time or the place of her return.
If you counted the Desert Tribes to the north, whose loyalty was always questionable, and the Novans to the south, Colonia was pinned in on all sides. Colonia had never fallen while the Covenant remained in power. With the Novan War, however, there were many who whispered that the Second Darkness was coming, but the Covenant did all it could to stamp out such talk.
For the next hour, Shara and I walked Colonia’s streets. We had no money to spend, but there was nothing to buy on a Sunday, anyway; and yet there were other people walking around just like us. Their clothes were richer than what Shara and I wore, mostly long, well-made robes, tan in color for the most part, but with splashes of green, orange, yellow, and others sewn in. Since it was warm today, most wore sandals rather than boots. The men all wore thick beards, which had only come into fashion in the last few years as a sign of solemnity. The women, like Shara and me, wore conservative clothing that kept them well-covered, hiding most skin except for the neck, face, and hands and feet.
Though there was nothing inherently wrong with Shara’s and my clothing, it was old and dusty. We earned our share of stares as we made our way to the city center. We moved through the clustered streets and into red-shadowed alleys covered by overhanging buildings. One final turn and a few more doors saw us pulling to a stop.
We stood in front of an apartment with a thick wooden door, three stone steps leading up to it, and long rectangular windows of clear glass set behind a small garden, the plot of which was empty. Shutters obscured the apartment’s interior, and there were three floors. The apartment was just one of many clustering each side of the street, with no space in between the long rows. The narrow street was empty, and for a rare moment, it was quiet in the streets; no one shouted, no cartwheels squealed, and no doors slammed.
“This is it,” Shara said. “This might be the last time I see my old place.”
“Do you miss it?”
Shara stood still for a moment, as if assessing that question. “I don’t know. A part of me does. Then again, I’m kind of used to where I am now, even if it’s not as good.”
I thought of the way I now lived, compared to how I lived four years ago. The transition hadn’t been a sudden one, apart from the week we had sold most of our possessions and the day of the move itself. Weeks, then months, had passed. Here and there, another trinket would be sold to make ends meet. The meals slowly got leaner, and our clothes older and more ragged. Another year, and we’d probably be homeless. Perhaps becoming poor hadn’t happened suddenly, but it had happened relentlessly.
I could only wonder how different our lives would be if the war had never happened. For one, Shara and I would have never met. I used to live in an apartment similar to this one, but it was far enough away that Shara and I would have been usin
g different fountains and different stores. We would have even gone to different cathedrals. The war had brought us together, even as it had completely changed both of our lives.
Then again, if there had been no war, Shara would have been free to pursue her art. And of course, her father would still be alive. I knew that was probably what she was thinking about.
I had no control of what happened, or what would happen. No one did. All we could do was keep going. That was our lot. We kept going until it was over, for better or worse.
“Let’s get back,” Shara said. “I’ve seen enough.”
We turned from the apartment and walked back to the city gate.
CHAPTER FOUR
WE RETURNED HOME JUST IN time to join Shara’s mother, Naomi, in helping to prepare dinner. There were just six of us, including me, my mother, Shara, Naomi, and Shara’s little brother and sister, Nath and Juli, ages six and eight.
And what Naomi was preparing was nothing short of a feast. There was pork loin cooked with peppers, onion, and garlic, along with flatbread with honey and sugar, and a leafy salad filled with greens, nuts, and fruit. Added to this was a bottle of red wine, a luxury that must have cost near as much as the meal itself. It was hard to believe they had found the money for it, when Shara’s reason for leaving had been one of money in the first place.
Shara seemed uncomfortable with how much there was, but I could understand why Naomi would go through the trouble. It would be her last time seeing Shara for a while. In war, there were always uncertainties.
At last, the meal was ready and we sat down to eat. Everyone was quiet, at first, even the children, as we all dug into our meals, but in time we were talking and laughing. The children seemed happy, but from time to time they would look at their older sister, as if they couldn’t believe she was truly going away.
The mood grew more serious as my mother began questioning Shara.
“So, where are you being stationed?”
“I don’t know,” Shara said. “I’m to report to the Fields of Samal tomorrow. I’m sure they’ll let me visit one last time before being assigned anywhere.”
“Don’t be sure of it,” Naomi said. She was a pretty woman, with blue eyes, dark hair, and light brown skin, while Shara’s complexion was lighter.
Shara sighed. “It’s nice to hope.”
“They’re probably going to send her to Coloso,” I said. “That’s where they send everyone.”
“Sometimes, they send recruits east,” my mother said. “I would almost prefer Coloso to that, though.”
“The Wild is quiet these days,” Naomi said. “It would be a lot less worry on my part.”
There was a heavy silence as we continued eating. I had to break it, because it was quickly growing uncomfortable.
“We’ll miss you,” I said. “If I were half as brave, I’d be going, too.”
Shara smiled, but she knew the real reason I wasn’t going. As long as my father was still in the legions, there would be enough money to keep me and my mother fed.
Before the war, only propertied citizens had the right to fight. But the war had dragged on so long and Colonia had been so outmatched that the Council had to drop that law and allow anyone to sign up. That brought in a huge swell of recruits, but it wasn’t long before even that began to run thin as Colonia suffered defeat after defeat.
Soon, the dinner began to wind down. The wine bottle had emptied, and even Nath and Juli were quiet.
That was when there was a knock at the door.
Everyone looked at each other uncertainly. Naomi moved to get up, but Shara was first, opening the door to the night.
I turned to see a figure obscured by shadow. For some reason, something looked familiar about him.
“A party, and you didn’t invite me?”
Nothing could describe the tumultuous joy I felt upon hearing that voice for the first time in four years.
***
“Father!”
“Nick?” my mother asked, leaping out of her chair. “Nick, is that you?”
I didn’t even wait for him to answer. When I ran from the table and threw myself at him, he took a step back to brace himself. Suddenly, I was in his arms and I felt his hand on my back.
“Shanti,” he said. “Gods, you’ve grown so much!”
I felt the bottom of his thick beard on my face, but I didn’t even care. He sniffled as he started to cry, and his hand ran through my hair. He was thinner than I remembered, but he had a wiry strength – testament to four years of hardship. When I pulled back to look at him for the first time, I was shocked by what I saw.
The face was familiar, but tired and gaunt. Added to the beard, there were new lines, new scars, and brown eyes filled with pain, even if they seemed happy now. The change shocked me, but that was when I felt my mother press in from beside me, weeping and hugging my father.
“You’ve grown so much,” he said again to me. “You’ve grown as beautiful as your mother.”
After a moment, my mother pulled back and looked at his face.
“Nick...are you all right?”
“Yes, Yasmin. I had a tough time, finding this place. All I had were your letters, and...”
“Who cares about that?” my mother asked. “You’re home. Does that mean the war is over?”
My father smiled. “Yes. The war is over. It has been for over a week. It just took this long for us to get back.”
There was cheering from inside behind us, mostly from the children. In a single moment, in a single sentence, everything had changed.
“We’ve heard nothing firm,” my mother said. “Only rumors.” She hugged him again, as if she were never going to let him go.
“No one truly knew until the barges were coming upriver. Mine was the very first.”
Then, he looked at me, and his brown eyes still had his old twinkle. He grabbed me with his free hand, pulling me close. It was here that I broke down in tears, and my father just held both my mother and me like that for a long time.
Suddenly, he laughed. “It doesn’t feel like it’s over. I just hope it truly is.”
My mother pulled back, looking at him worriedly. I stepped back as well, but my mother was the first to speak. “What do you mean?”
“Just a fear,” he said. “Let’s hope nothing comes of it.”
“Gods, I hope not,” my mother said. “I prayed for your safe return and Annara delivered you.”
“I imagine many wives prayed for their husbands to come home,” my father said. He then looked at me, and winked. “But what about daughters?”
I smiled. “Of course I prayed. I lit my candle for you.”
His eyes went over my mother’s head, seeming to see the food for the first time. Then, he looked at both Naomi and Shara, who stared quietly. The children stared at him wide-eyed, not quite sure to what to make of all this.
“Come inside and eat,” Naomi said, finally. “There’s plenty left over. I’m Naomi, a friend of Yasmin’s, and this is my daughter, Shara. The children are Nath and Juli.”
“A pleasure to meet you all,” he said, giving a slight bow.
“Come in,” Naomi said again, with a smile.
At last, my father came inside. When he did, my mother closed the door behind him. She took his dirty cloak and brought him a bowl of warm water to wash with. Once he had cleaned his face and hands, my mother gave him a towel to dry with. Meanwhile, Naomi filled a wooden plate until it was almost overflowing.
My father ate quickly and quietly, as if making up for every meal he had missed in the last four years. Everyone was quiet, my mother keeping a hand on him at all times. He seemed calmed by her touch.
Not a crumb was left by the time he had finished, and Yasmin gave him yet more food. My father ate again, working methodically to make sure every scrap was eaten. Indeed, looking at my father’s lean form, I didn’t know where he was putting it all.
“Gods,” Naomi said. “One would think they never fed you.”
; It was a moment before my father responded. “They did. Most of the time.”
That made everyone go quiet.
“I keep thinking this is a dream,” I said.
“What does it mean?” Shara asked. “If I enlisted today, does that mean I report to the Fields?”
“Yes.” My father looked up from his plate. “Don’t neglect orders, even if they seem pointless. They’ll get their use out of you. Of that, you can be sure.”
As Shara’s face paled, my father returned to his meal.
The homecoming wasn’t quite what I had expected, but I knew a lot of it had to be due to my father’s exhaustion. He’d been fighting for four years under harsh conditions, and he’d come far just to make it back alive. What mattered was that he was alive. He would be better once he ate and rested.
Naomi excused herself to put both of the children to bed, and to my surprise, neither protested. By the time she returned, my father had finished his second plate.
“I can’t remember the last meal I had like this.”
“The first of many,” my mother said. “You’re just skin and bones now.” She squeezed his arm, but my father only managed a small smile.
“I’m just...tired. I want to rest, but there is so much to do to reclaim our old lives.”
I realized for the first time that everything wasn’t going to magically get better. My father was a different man, and for that matter, my mother and I were different people as well. He had been away for four years fighting while my mother and I had been working hard to support ourselves. Even if we were all in different places, that didn’t mean we couldn’t rebuild our family.
“We’ll do what we can,” my mother said, rubbing his shoulder. “Only rest.”
My mother and I helped Naomi and Shara clean. My father stared blankly ahead, lost in thought. When we started to wrap up, I promised Shara that I would see her off in the morning.
Once outside, my father looked around disapprovingly at the run-down tenements and dirt streets, as if he couldn’t believe the conditions we were living in.