Two Moons of Sera

by Tyler, Pavarti K.

  With calculated movements, I reached the top. My fingers searched for a solid hold over the ledge. Instead, Tor’s hand grasped my forearm and lent me his strength.

  We stood at the top of the ledge, side by side. My lungs filled with air as my heart clamored in my chest. Before us ships burned and ignited the sea, Flares burst in the sky, leaving trails of red behind as they fell. Somewhere out in that melee, the current swept my mother’s body out to sea. Would she sink to the ocean floor? Would she drift on the surface among the flames of a war she’d wanted nothing to do with?

  Wherever she was, it didn’t really matter. Her body remained—now food for the sharks that once feared her presence—but her essence was gone, scattered throughout the sea. Each droplet of water, each grain of sand she ever touched held a piece of her and took her with it as it continued on. Now the only thing that mattered was how that piece of her survived within me.

  Tor led the way through the dense forest above the beach. Another mountain loomed above us, but its foot hid a large clearing. No clear path presented itself, but he seemed to know where he was going.

  I followed without speaking. There was nothing worth saying. My entire existence had just floated away. My home was probably on fire, my belongings destroyed. Even if they weren’t, I could never go back to get them.

  Everything was gone. I had nothing, no one. I had no people, no family. The Sualwets would never accept me; having hair was enough to guarantee that. The Erdlanders were monsters who destroyed my home. I may look like them, but I never wanted to be one.

  Low-lying bushes filled the clearing. A stream ran from the mountain to a small pond, where it disappeared underground.

  “Huh,” Tor called before stepping out of the tree line. He held up his hand for me to wait.

  “Thhhhhrup!” something cried from a cave farther ahead. The sound vibrated through the night, ending with a sharp yip, almost like the bay of a coyote.

  I stepped back. If I ran, where would I go? Tor stood so calmly, but as another cry ripped open, I began to shake.

  A four-legged creature emerged from the darkness.

  The creature was huge, much larger than any land animal I’d ever seen. Its head came almost to my waist. Coarse, matted hair—thicker and denser than mine or Tor’s—covered the creature’s body. Moonlight shone down and I could see the animal’s coat was brown with strands of red and white mixed in, making it blend in against the dusty earth.

  “Thhhhhrup!” it howled again, bounding toward Tor.

  “Huh,” he said, gesturing for the animal to stop, and it sat before him in expectation. “Huh,” he said, his inflection sharper. “Sera, come out.”

  The animal cocked its head at the sound of Tor’s words.

  “What is that?” I whispered, slinking along the tree line. The animal loosely resembled dogs I’d read about and seen in pictures, but it was too large, its body too angular. And its piercing, intelligent eyes disturbed me. I was being appraised, my behavior and quality measured and judged by this animal.

  The dog-thing sprang to its feet, lowered its narrow head into a menacing stance. A guttural growl vibrated from its chest. I was still shrouded under the forest canopy, but it must have noticed me.

  “Thhhhhhrrr,” it warned. Its hackles rose, making the animal appear larger. Each strand of hair stood like a needle ready to piece anything that approached.

  “Huh!” Tor commanded. “Huh, huh.” With a gesture he called the creature to his side.

  It stared at me again, its green eyes flecked with gold. Another warning growl reverberated in the air before it joined Tor.

  “He needs to get used to you,” Tor said.

  “What is it?”

  I didn’t move, didn’t approach or look away. This was too much. This was more than I could handle. On top of everything else that had happened that night, I had a monster staring at me with eyes as sharp as a man’s.

  “He’s... I don’t know word yet. He lives up here, in the mountains. There are others, but he was alone. I was alone, so now we’re alone together.”

  “He’s a pet?”

  “No. He does what he wants.”

  “Why isn’t he attacking me, then?”

  “He trusts me. He won’t hurt you unless you give him a reason to.”

  “Does he have a name?” I glanced up at Tor, checking to make sure he was telling me the truth.

  He stood next to the beast, with no sign of fear. “Never thought to give him one.”

  “Well then.” In hopes of calming this creature, I cooed at him in Sualwet, using my softest, gentlest voice and the same lilt my mother did when I was sick as a child. ~Uh, hi, Monster. You don’t want to eat me, do you, Monster?~

  The creature’s eyes narrowed as he studied me. I stood tall but kept my head bowed as I approached. Its back legs were poised to spring. The thing’s eyes tracked my movements, never straying from me as I drew closer.

  “Huh,” Tor soothed, placing his hand on the animal’s head and smoothing the spiked hair. It relaxed at the contact, and so did I.

  Stepping closer, I continued to speak gently, until a low rumble emanated from the animal.

  “Huh. Huh.” Tor knelt down next to it, draping one arm over its back. “Come closer. Put your hand out and let him smell it.”

  “Is it—is it a dog?” I asked.

  “Maybe. ‘Dog’ isn’t quite the right word, though.”

  Hand extended, I approached, careful to keep my movement slow. I was exhausted, and the last bit of adrenaline from seeing the animal had worn off. At this point, I didn’t even really care if it ate me. I was too tired to bother.

  ~Hi, Monster,~ I said, speaking Sualwet again. The creature’s hair had flattened so that he no longer appeared as threatening. ~You’re an interesting looking thing, aren’t you? Well, I’m different, too. Nobody else like me. Maybe the three of us belong together. Orphans alone in the world?~

  The animal sniffed my hand and looked at Tor.

  “Huh,” he grunted, patting the animal’s side before standing up.

  The creature stood. Its head was at my waist, and if I reached out, I could’ve laid my hand on its back without bending down. It approached me with a snort. My hand still outstretched, I let the animal sniff my fingers. When it was satisfied I wasn’t a threat, it pressed its forehead into my palm and stepped away.

  “Huh.” Tor pointed back to the cave, and the animal loped toward the enclosure.

  “What was that?”

  “I told you I don’t know.”

  “How do you talk to it? All you said was ‘huh.’”

  He shrugged. “I just think what I mean and make a sound.”

  The clearing was bright, even in the dark. We were so high the moon felt as if it were just beyond my reach, and the stars danced like fireflies above my head.

  “Come.” He walked toward the cave.

  I followed.

  “Thhhhhrup!” the monster called from the distance.

  “I think he wants to go back to sleep.” Tor grinned, affection shining on his angular face.

  I tried to smile, to engage in the new things he introduced me to. A wild animal unlike anything I’d seen before, a beautiful clearing in the mountain, far above my home in the cove. My grief weighed everything down and drained the color from the world around me, leaving me in a flat gray world with nothing. I’d been hollowed out and emptied.

  The clearing was covered in soft grass, which felt cool against my feet, and the automatic movement of walking brought me to the mouth of the cave. Inside it was cold and damp. No fire lit the space, and in the darkness I saw only some blankets with a large wild animal curled up on them.

  “You can sleep there.” Tor gestured to where the monster was resting.

  “Can you start a fire?”

  Tor nodded and disappeared into the cave.

  My eyes and other senses were accustomed to being underwater, where it was often pitch black. Here, the darkness was empty. No s
ound bounced through the water to outline the shape of the space for me. Instead, the cave was cold and black.

  Tor returned with logs in his arms and set them within a circle of rocks. He whistled and the animal stretched then trotted over to his side.

  “You can lie down now. I’ll keep him with me.”

  “Thanks.” To the beast I said, ~Goodnight, Monster.~

  “What do you keep saying to him?” Tor scratched the animal’s head as we spoke.

  “What? Monster?”

  “Yes. I don’t know that word.”

  “Oh, it’s Sualwet. It means ‘monster.’”

  “Monster, huh? El-ron....”

  “Almost.” I smiled despite my exhaustion. “It’s pronounced ell-gahn—Elgon.”

  “Elgon.”

  At the sound of the word, the animal looked up at Tor with a questioning turn of the head.

  “Maybe that’s his name.”

  “Seems like he likes it.”

  I set my bag on the ground next to the pile of blankets and sat down to inspect the damage to my feet. The webbing between the third and fourth toe on my left foot was torn, but it would grow back. The soles of my feet were tender and a bit swollen, but none of the cuts looked deep enough to cause an infection.

  The soft blankets on the bed cushioned me when I sat down. I felt bad taking Tor’s bed and couldn’t see why he wanted to sleep outside, but the weight of the night bearing down on me stole my thoughts as I melted to the cold ground. Exhaustion washed over me, and I fought to keep my eyes open.

  Tor crouched before the fire, Elgon lying on the ground between us. I watched him, took in the sharp contour of his face. He was lovely—not the way the Erdlander men in pictures were, all dressed up with hair trimmed short, or the way Sualwet men were, with their silent and reserved ways. Tor was wild and impulsive, and for some reason he had come to see me right when I needed him.

  He remained still, hands folded over the other in front of him, like he was concentrating or struggling with something I couldn’t see. All he did was sit there.

  “Tor?”

  “Huh, shush,” he replied without looking at me.

  As I watched, something glowed beneath the palms of his hands. Light sparked and the glow increased until it formed a bright orb. It turned and grew; red, orange, yellow and white sparks flew around Tor’s hands until the thing was as large as my fist. Tor opened his hands and blew on it, sending it whipping down to the logs stacked in the hearth. When the orb struck the logs, they burst into crackling flames.

  “Tor?” I asked again, my heart beating faster and my mind spinning from what I’d just seen. Was it a trick? Some kind of technology I didn’t know about?

  He stood without looking at me and gestured for the animal to follow him.

  “Tor, what did you do?”

  “I... I’m going to sleep outside.”

  “You don’t have to. Really, I don’t want you to be cold.”

  “I won’t be.”

  “How did you start the fire?”

  He turned then, the firelight illuminating his sharp features. His expression softened, and for a moment I glimpsed the man under all the scars and grime. The man who’d been living alone in a cold cave, with nothing but a few blankets and a wild animal for company.

  “You weren’t the only mistake, Sera. It’s better I sleep outside.”

  He left. Elgon, the monster, trailed behind. The animal’s nose kept butting against Tor’s hand, but he did not acknowledge its attention.

  I was alone.

  8

  Morning came too soon. My exhaustion, grief, and confusion had joined forces to overwhelm me and shove me into oblivion. I didn’t remember covering myself with one of the blankets or balling another into a pillow. All I remembered was the look in Tor’s eyes when he’d walked away.

  What had he done to start the fire? What kind of magic would create that kind of energy?

  I stretched, letting the blanket fall off me, and raised my arms over my head. What I really wanted was to walk outside, take off all my clothes, and swim in the ocean. I wanted to dive beneath the surface and let the cool water envelop me. But I wasn’t waking up in my hammock to the sun over my head; I was lying on a cold floor, next to the dying embers of an impossible fire.

  Alone in the dim light of the cave, the memory of my mother’s last words rang in my ears: Go! Tears finally fell. I hadn’t cried last night. The world was too confusing, too chaotic for me to indulge in grief. All I could do was keep moving forward. That morning, though, silence rang out around me, and for the first time in my life, the sound of the surf greeting the sand was absent.

  Wrenching loneliness filled me, and I drew my legs to my chest. I fought the sobs that clawed their way to the surface, but their power was too much and I couldn’t resist. I submitted to the agony of admitting my mother was gone.

  She had given up everything for me to exist. Her entire life had been stolen by the Erdlanders who abducted her, experimented on her, and tried to kill her. Somehow, she’d escaped and lived. How afraid she must have been when her abdomen began to grow. How horrible it must have been to be the first Sualwet woman to have a live birth in over three hundred years.

  Despite her confusion and pain, she loved me. She never gave up on me. She fought the Sualwets who wanted her to abort. She ran after realizing they intended to kill me when I was born. My mother lived away from the water for years because of me. She had given me everything, and even in death, she worried more about me than herself.

  Go!

  Once my tears ran out, I fell back asleep. Fitful dreams of fire and a sea of pain plagued me.

  My body felt stiff when I woke. I had no idea how late in the day it was or how long I’d slept, but my stomach growled and that was motivation enough to rise. I had no more tears, but the stain of my grief left me blackened and hollow.

  The light funneling in through the cave opening didn’t offer much more illumination than the stars had. The space was cool and damp. Near an opening into another space beyond the light’s perimeter, clothes and tools piled around the edge of the cave.

  I stepped outside into the morning air and missed the taste of salt. We were too high up for the ocean breeze to find me. Mixed grass and some colorful flowers sprouted around the clearing. Tor was wading up to his waist in the small pond. His thick hair hung loose over his shoulders and covered his back. Facing away from me, he submerged his head in the water,.

  When he reappeared, I watched the water roll off his broad shoulders and trail down to his narrow waist. His back bore as many marks as his arms. Scars ran at odd angles along his skin. His clothes lay in the grass next to the monster-dog that protected them.

  “Thhhhhrup!” Elgon called, hopping up to his feet when he saw me.

  I blushed, having been caught staring without saying anything. I watched Elgon instead of acknowledging Tor. The animal’s stance was relaxed, not the threatening posture from the previous night.

  “He likes you,” Tor said, forcing my attention back in his direction.

  “Do you think he’d mind if I came over there?”

  “No, it’s okay.” He turned to Elgon and made a gesture through the air. “Huh.”

  The animal sat and cast me an expectant look. I held out one hand and crept forward.

  ~Hi, Elgon.~

  “It’s okay, really,” Tor said. “Once you get to know him, you’ll see how funny your reaction was. He’s gentle, I promise.” He drank a handful of water and swished it around in his mouth before spitting it out.

  “Well, last night he tried to eat me, so I’ll take it slow this time, if you don’t mind.”

  I heard splashing as Tor waded out of the pond, toward his clothes.

  “Tor!” I squealed, turning away when he entered the corner of my vision, completely nude.

  “What?”

  “You’re naked!”

  “I’m putting pants on.”

  “But—!” My cheeks burn
ed and my heart pounded in my chest. I’d seen my mother naked a thousand times. Why did the sight of Tor’s bare legs as he walked past me in the morning light make me feel so... awake?

  Elgon scooted in front of me. I turned to the side, enough so I wasn’t looking at him but not so far that I could see Tor.

  With a “Thhhhhrup!” he leaped forward and crouched in front of me.

  “See, he’s fun,” Tor said, dressing in his dark pants and ill-fitting shirt.

  Elgon looked up at me and then to Tor. He cocked his head to the side and snorted before shooting out into the forest.

  “Where’s he going?” I wondered.

  “To hunt, probably. He’ll be back later. He usually sleeps here.” Tor walked back to the pond and picked up his bag.

  “Don’t you worry about him?”

  “Like I said, he’s not my pet. He can take care of himself, probably better than I can. So, are you hungry?”

  “Yes. What time is it?”

  “Late, but you needed the sleep.” He pulled his bag higher on his shoulder. “Let’s find something to eat.”

  Tor entered the cave. I wasn’t sure what he intended, but I followed him instead of staying alone. Nothing I knew applied anymore. There was no ocean to fish, no garden to harvest, no chickens to feed. I had to start over from nothing. The enormity of that was too much to face. Instead, I followed Tor into the cave, content to let him lead.

  Inside he dug through a pile of clothes and tossed things aside before returning with something in his hands.

  “For your feet. They aren’t perfect, but they tie on.”

  “Thanks.” I sat down against the cave wall and slipped the leather over my foot. It was loose, but the ties cinched around my ankle and calf. With both shoes tied in place, I stood up and threw my bag over my shoulder.

  “Leave it,” Tor said. “No one knows where we are. Your bag is safe.”

  “It’s all I have.”

  “Huh,” he replied with a nod before walking deeper into the cave.

  I peered after him. Where had he had gone?

  “Tor?”

  No response.

  “Tor?” In the darkness, I tried to force my eyes to adjust, but the blackness past the opening was complete. Nothing penetrated it.