by Alex Quill
Mellie only briefly paid Synago a bit of attention with a hug and a hello before going back to her games. Synago sat in one of the plush chairs, and Yolanda sat in the other.
“How did it go, dear? I’m assuming well from your wonderful smile,” said Yolanda.
Synago’s smile widened and she nodded. “He agreed to sponsor me. I leave one week from today.”
“Oh that’s wonderful! I’m so glad to hear it all worked,” cooed Yolanda.
Synago smiled at Yolanda’s happiness. There was only one thing left troubling her. Who would take care of Mellie? After a moment’ consideration, Synago decided to vent to her Yolanda about it.
“You know, all that’s left for me to do now is figure out who’s going to take care of this one,” she said and indicated her head towards Mellie.
Yolanda paused for a moment and then folder her hands in her lap and looked down at them, almost as if she were shy, or nervous. “You know, without Roland I’ll have an empty nest.”
Synago quirked her eyebrows, catching Yolanda’s meaning immediately. She wanted to ask her to take care of Mellie, but didn’t want to burden her. If Yolanda already wanted to take care of Mellie on her own, Synago was in luck. “That’s true,” Synago said, and then paused. When there was an empty silence afterwards she decided to go straight for the big ask. “Would you like to take care of her while I’m gone?”
Yolanda looked up at Synago and clapped her hands together in excitement as if she were two years old instead of old enough to be Synago’s mother. “Oh, can I?” she crooned.
Synago laughed. “Of course. You seem to do really well with her. That’s rare. I just…” she looked down at Mellie who was still busy with her toys, and then leaned in towards Yolanda and spoke in a half whisper. “I just don’t know how I’m going to break the news to her that I’m leaving. We’ve never been apart for that long.”
Synago chose to leave out that their parents died when she was 12, and she’d taken care of Mellie ever since. Most people reacted poorly to the news of another person’s parents dying, even if it was nearly a decade ago.
Yolanda rubbed her chin in thought for a few moments before bringing her hands together in a clap of “Ah-ha!” She spoke back to Synago in the same conspiratory whisper. “I can help. When Roland was just five years old his father left to fight for the Resistance. I know how to handle this.”
Synago’s shoulders slumped with relief. “Really? That would be a great help, Yolanda. I can’t thank you enough.”
Yolanda sat back and crossed her arms, satisfied. “I’ve lost a son to the Resistance, and gained a daughter in the same week. I should be the one thanking you, dear.”
Yolanda’s plan for Mellie’s transition was simple and it came in two parts. For the first three days they’d talk to Mellie about Synago leaving, with no changes to routine. For the last four days of the week they’d gradually transition Synago’s responsibilities over to Yolanda. Synago felt nervous, but trusted Yolanda enough to execute her plan without question.
The first three days flew by, and Mellie seemed not to understand or remember that Synago was leaving. Much of their conversations either ended in tears or with dead ends.
The last four days were much harder. Yolanda slowly took over morning routines, night routines, meal times, and bath times. The last two nights Yolanda even had Synago switch rooms with her at night so that Mellie could get used to sleeping in the same room as Yolanda.
On the very last night, Synago couldn’t sleep. She had to leave first thing in the morning but worrying about Mellie kept her up. That night had gone well. Mellie hadn’t thrown a single tantrum - something rare even when Yolanda wasn’t involved. She stretched in bed, still wide awake. She decided to sneak across the hall to peek in on Mellie, to calm her nerves.
When Synago cracked the door open to take a look, Mellie was sleeping peacefully in her bed. She even snored softly, something she only did when she was sleeping well.
Synago’s shoulders slumped with relief. She closed the sliding door and snuck her way back in to her own bed inside Yolanda’s room across the hall and closed her eyes. Mellie was safe and happy with Yolanda. Now she just had to relax herself. Soon, she fell asleep.
The next morning she woke earlier than usual, just as she planned. She pulled on her clothes — the black civilian’s short-sleeved tabard that hung to her thighs, and black cotton leggings with corded belt. The instructions Tessen gave her had suggested she buy this outfit ahead of time. She’d spent her meager savings from the assistant’s position on it, but if it gave her an edge amongst the other recruits and Tessen, then so be it.
When she was finished dressing, she slung her satchel over her shoulder and re-checked its contents. The devah dragon’s egg, her draft instructions, and and a caravan boarding pass. She’d also snuck some sheets of parchment and writing charcoal from Yolanda’s office.
With everything there, Synago looked up and out the window at the morning sunrise. Yolanda’s room had a view of most of the city. All the tiny buildings were lit up by the sun, shining on the horizon. It was beautiful, but she didn’t have time to fully take it in. She had things to attend to.
First, she went to Mellie and Yolanda’s room. They were both still asleep, but only just. They’d soon wake up and start their morning routine, just like Synago had shown Yolanda. Synago sat on the edge of Mellie’s bed. She brushed a few stray strands of hair out of Mellie’s face. Mellie’s eyes fluttered open and she smiled and yawned, then sat up.
“G’morning,” she chirped in her sleepy voice.
“Good morning,” replied Synago.
They heard a yawn from across the room and Synago turned her head to see Yolanda was up as well. She was dressed in an old nightgown with faded flowers on it, and a matching cap sat on her head with her fox-like ears sticking out the top. She smacked her lips a few times and then turned her head to see that Synago was in their room. She wagged her finger and shoo’d Synago out.
“Now now, you know the rules. Out. Out until we’re done getting ready!”
Synago frowned. “But I—”
“No buts! Go on now,” said Yolanda. Synago sighed. She wanted so badly to spend as much time as possible with her sister before she left. But Yolanda was right, she’d just confuse Mellie. She got up and left the room.
When she slid the door shut she could hear Mellie protesting inside, but Yolanda soon calmed her. Synago waited patiently while they went through the business of getting ready. When they were done, all three of them headed out of the inn together into the bright new morning.
The streets were filled with people shopping and traveling, and the crowds only got more dense as they grew closer to the emissary building. When they reached the road on which the emissary was located they were walled off by temporary barriers. A line of people sprouted from the center of the barriers, where a man stood checking caravan boarding passes. Synago withdrew hers and then looked at the line. She looked back at Mellie, and then Yolanda. They gave each other weak smiles.
“So this is it, I guess,” said Synago. She stared at her feet, but Yolanda placed her fist under Synago’s chin and raised her face so that their eyes met in the middle. Yolanda’s were brimming with tears and Synago felt her own fill as well. She dashed them away at the last second with the back of her hand and pulled Yolanda into a hug.
Yolanda was surprised at first, but accepted the hug. She squeezed Synago tight and whispered in her ear, “Be safe, girl. For love of the High Mother, be safe.”
Synago withdrew from her embrace and nodded. She turned to Mellie, who smiled at her and extended her arms for a hug of her own. Mellie had always been a hugger, and Synago smiled. This time was no exception. She hugged her sister and then took a step back with her at arm’s length so she could study her face. She was smiling. If her sister could smile today, so could she. Synago put on the bravest smile she could muster and then spoke gently to Mellie.
“It’s time for me to
go,” she said.
“You’re going, Syn?” said Mellie, a perplexed look broke over her face. They had told her every day for the past week that, but Mellie played dumb every time. Synago knew that Mellie knew it was time.
“Yes. I’m going. Be a good girl for Yolanda, okay? I love you, Mel.” Synago fully expected an outburst from Mellie at any second.
Mellie looked between Synago and Yolanda, and took Yolanda’s hand. She smiled sheepishly at Synago and raised her free hand to give a half hearted wave. “Bye Syn. Love you.”
Synago fought back the tears that came with her surprise at her sister’s words. No fight, no tantrum, not a single tear shed by her sister. They’d worked so hard to get to this point that Synago had given up, but here it was. Her sister was safe, happy, and loved. She waved back at Mellie for a moment before turning and diving into the crowd.
She was eager to secure her spot in line, and held her boarding pass tight in her fist while she waited. She tried to keep an air of enthusiasm about her despite being scared out of her wits. She figured that she wanted to make a good first impression with whoever admitted her to the caravan. The “man” standing there to admit her when she arrived at the head of the line was little more than a bored teenager. He yawned and gave her a look of disdain when she handed him her pass. He marked it with an ink-filled quill and waved her inside. She stepped in past the temporary barriers and tried to make sense of the chaotic road ahead.
There were two dozen huge caravan wagons of varying shapes and sizes lined up on either side of the road. Between them, men in black official Resistance uniforms and some of the draftee men and women like her walked around with bundles of goods. They took them from wagon to wagon in a frenzy.
Each wagon already had horses hitched to the head, and looked about ready to go when a few more things were tied down. She could see inside some of them, the ones with open canvas tops that rolled up or down depending on the weather. All the other draftees sat on benches on either side of the wagon boxes. She began to search for a spot for herself when she heard a familiar voice call out to her over the din. It was Captain Tessen.
“Synago. Over here. Now,” he said, barking the last word as he rounded the caravan line to her left. Synago straightened and cleared her throat. She tried to calm her nerves, and then walked up to the Captain and saluted. Her fate was in his hands now, after all.
Tessen laughed. “What in the world was that?”
Synago faltered and her hand fell from her salute. “A salute, sir,” she mumbled.
Tessen only laughed harder at her answer, and didn’t speak until he was through with it, wiping a tear from his eye. “We don’t salute like that here. Also, you’re late. Do you know what that means?” he said, his grin widening. Synago gulped.
“No sir,” was all she managed to choke out.
“It means you don’t get a seat in any of the wagons. You get to ride the donkey in the very back. We haven’t enough room for you. Understood?”
Synago’s stomach tightened. She’d been saddle sore for days after their escape on horseback from Tolren to Osko.
“Yes sir, I understand. Um, where is it? The donkey, I mean, sir,” she said. She hated how pathetic she sounded. The captain straightened and looked around, his eyes lighting on something to their left.
“There she is. Her name is Julia. Follow me,” he said, and then walked off in the direction he was looking.
Synago followed him, her stomach still twisted in knots.They weaved through the small crowd and Synago found herself staring at a donkey with nothing but a rope lead on its muzzle and a woolen, tattered blanket on its back.
“Well, here she is.” He said. He gave the donkey a pat on the rump. “I’ll have her hitched to the last wagon for you.” said the Captain with a sinister smile. He left to attend to other things without giving Synago the dignity of a goodbye.
Synago stared at the donkey, and it stared back at her, twitching its ears. She reached out a shaking hand and attempted to pat its face but it backed up and gave a loud and indignant “HEE HAW!” Synago flinched away. A man approached them and hitched Julia to one of the wagons. Someone in the distance shouted that they would leave soon.
While wringing her hands together Synago walked towards where the man had hitched Julia to the wagon, and mounted her. She snuffled at the air in clear distaste for Synago, then the cart they were hitched to began to move. Synago waited to get bucked off by the unruly thing but it seemed not to care about her anymore now that they were moving. Julia’s gait was odd, she had a limp on her side with only the tattered woolen blanket for support. After only a few minutes of riding Synago’s legs already felt strained.
Soon they were outside of the city gates. Synago looked back at the walls, hung with Neutral banners that fluttered in the morning breeze. Her old life in Osko, the one she’d become so accustomed to in the few months she’d been there, was behind her now. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then turned back to face the caravan. She had to prepare her mind for the adventures ahead.
All done? Here’s what to do next…
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Alex