Fragment Rewrite: Part Two
Haven.
There were a couple of reasons why I enjoyed having the river close by. For one, it was a source of as much fresh water as was needed. Usually, I had to ration my water so closely that I ended up being perpetually thirsty. But even that was better than passing out from dehydration. In the desert, that could mean death.
But that wasn’t a problem, on the riverbanks. Neither was having to manage with dirty clothes. It wasn’t as though I had had to wear the same filthy garments for days on end-the ocean had always been close by, and even though washing cloth with saltwater usually left it stiff and prone to rubbing, it had gotten them clean. Nevertheless, the river water was much nicer. I only had three sets of clothes to my name-two, now, since I had given one to Amir, who was roughly the same size as I was.
But when I looked away from the water and north, at the feverishly dancing rock formations rising from the ground ahead, blurred by the waves of heat, I realized that I had been grasping at straws-anything to make this situation seem a little less dire.
This ill-thought-out journey to nowhere had been my idea, and I had to face the consequences. It should have been just me, though. Yet I had obtained a frustrating, frequently irritating, and endlessly fascinating tagalong, who was probably following me to his death.
But without him, without Amir, I knew that I never would have found the courage to begin this journey.
Amir… I could tell that he was doing his best not to complain, or lag behind me, but that didn’t change the fact that I was used to walking around in desert conditions for days on end, and he wasn’t. I didn’t fault him for it.
However, I couldn’t ignore the fact that my supplies were rapidly dwindling. That afternoon before the July had fallen, I had bought more food than I had needed to get to the next village, but only because I had had experience in which the river was high, and I had had to wait to cross. I hadn’t at all planned on having to feed two people.
We had been lucky, the last few days. Edible plants had sprouted up along the water’s edge, with a bitter, starchy taste, but edible nonetheless. But the land was rising, and the ground was less sandy and rockier with the passing of each day. The plants, which couldn’t have been described as plentiful to begin with, were getting sparser and scrubbier.
In addition to that, it was hotter, there, away from the ocean and its cooling breeze. I hadn’t thought it was possible, in all honesty. Still, it had to be past the height of summer…it would slowly begin getting cooler. Very slowly.
I glanced back at Amir to see how he was doing, and saw him looking fairly miserable and squinting in the sunlight. “You okay?” I asked softly to his frown. My own concern for the man was surprising me every day. I didn’t know him well enough to consider him a friend, if I even really understood that concept, but the fact that he was from Earth, that he was a scientist, was enough that I was…protective of him.
Amir looked like he was beginning to shake his head, but then nodded. “I’m fine. Just…not used to the sun. I hadn’t seen it for about twenty years, on Earth.”
“Years…is that how you measured time?” I asked.
“Yeah. It was three-hundred sixty-five days, on Earth. How long are years, here?” Amir sounded out of breath, but also a little desperate for the conversation. I supposed that I wasn’t the most eloquent person, ever. In my defense, not many people had wanted to talk to me, before him.
“I’m not sure I understand,” I replied, “What constitutes a year being finished? Is it an arbitrary number?”
Amir almost laughed. “Not quite. You know, Haven, you keep surprising me. Using big words like arbitrary but not being aware of common-knowledge Earth stuff. Don’t get that look, I know it’s not your fault. But, uh, your question. A year was a complete revolution of the planet around the sun. All four seasons having gone by.”
Seasons. I understood that. They were how we measured time on Broken Fides, but only because years, as Amir described them, would be incredibly long. Certainly more than three-hundred sixty-five days.
The conversation lulled, so Amir continued. “Um, if it puts things in perspective, I am…err…I was twenty-four years old when the July launched.”
I nodded, considering. At the expectant look on his face, I figured that I should at least try to explain what it was like on Broken Fides. “Years here must be much longer than Earth years,” I iterated, doing some quick calculations in my head, “Since, in years, I’m five. We typically measure the passage of time by seasons, though,” I volunteered.
Amir whistled lowly, and I almost smiled, since that was something that I did. Strange quirks seemed to have withstood the intervening generations. A while passed, and the heat was growing to be too much for me.
“Do you want to stop for a while?” I asked Amir, who looked at me like I had just offered him a way back to Earth, or something. “Yes,” he replied, elongating the word to something like a whimper.
I stopped right there, and dropped my pack, stretching my shoulders once the weight was off of them. I wrapped one arm around to try to work out a knot.
Amir had collapsed to the ground with his back against a weathered boulder.
“You know,” he said after a while, waiting until I glanced at him to continue, “I’m being a total asshat by making you carry everything. I can get some of it…”
“Asshat…?” I asked, puzzled. He laughed, loud and open. “Earth slang. For a really rude and inconsiderate person.”
“Oh,” I answered, blinking. Old Earth had the strangest slang terms, I was discovering.
“Um, anyway, I’m still offering,” Amir said, face tilted upward, eyes half closed.
“If you really want to, I guess,” I muttered. I was used to the weight, but if he insisted on helping, I wasn’t going to stop him.
At length, I dropped to the ground near Amir, leaning back. For a while, we passed the water flask back and forth, until I finally set it on the ground between us. A slight breeze picked up, which felt simply wonderful, and I sat back and enjoyed it for a while, trying not to worry about anything. I guess I succeeded, because I fell asleep.
I must have stayed that way for a long time, too, because when I woke up the sky was streaked pale rose and lavender, and I had the definite feeling that something was very much not right. I looked at Amir, who hadn’t moved except to curl up a little more tightly. He was still asleep. Then I looked at where I had left my satchel and my writing case, and there was another person there, with the lid of the case flipped open, looking through it. Dammit, again!
“Hey,” I said, standing up, my voice sharp and low. The person-a girl-looked at me, wide-eyed. I don’t think she expected to be caught.
My voice must have woken up Amir, who managed to see the girl straighten and take off at a run, not along the riverbank, but west, into the badlands.
Amir was on his feet in a flash, and running after her, shouting what I could only assume were Earth obscenities. I tried to call after him, get him to come back, but I guess he didn’t hear me.
I sighed, and straightened the contents of my case. She hadn’t actually taken anything, which was what really mattered to me. Finally, I hefted everything and set off in the direction that the girl and Amir had gone, albeit at a much more sedate pace. Luckily, it was an open area for a while, interspersed with large rocks and wind-sculpted formations. Deeper into the area, channels and paths would be carved into the stone, gorges with towering walls, deep ravines and twisting canyons. That was the type of land that someone could get lost in, and might never find a way out.
Beginning to worry, I picked up my pace, and was lucky to see a flash of movement disappear into one of those gullies, so I knew which entrance to the stone labyrinth to take. As the walls rose up on either side of me, the path descending, I became outright nervous. This was perfect ambush territory. I was fully convinced that I was going to find Amir with an arrow through his throat, if I didn’t get one through mine, first.
So, I nearly collapsed in relief when I heard raised voices a moment later, bouncing along the walls back at me. His was one of them. I could only assume the other was the girl’s. I broke into a jog, and, after rounding a sharp bend in the ravine system, saw them.
I slowed, then, and approached calmly. Neither had noticed me yet, so I listened.
“Why are you following me?” the girl demanded, gesturing angrily at Amir.
“Because,” he replied, “You were all kinds of up in Haven’s stuff, which was very much not cool of you.”
“I wasn’t going to take anything! I just wanted to see what it was!” she replied indignantly.
From somewhere out of my line of sight, another voice joined the fray, one of an older man, gruff and deep. “Whoa, Medea, what’s going on here?” The girl-Medea, I guessed-whirled around so that her back was facing me. Around that time, I was able to sidle up to where Amir was standing.
I could see the man, then, and what I observed was not comforting. He was tall-taller than me by a significant amount, and broad-shouldered, but lean. He had a sword, or a knife, or something else sharp and lethal strapped to his back like it was the most natural thing in the world. I didn’t doubt for a second that he knew how to use it. The girl, though, caught my attention next. The last rays of the sun were streaming into the gully, and they lit up her hair with a much brighter shine than hair typically held. Her skin was darker than the man’s, and I was certain that true daylight would reveal a golden cast to it. Because the girl was auridium-touched, same as I was.
I had to look up, though, because Medea was replying. “This…this man was trying to accost me!” She said, turning back to point an accusatory finger at Amir. She looked startled when she saw me there, too, and she continued, “And now the other one is here, too!”
Amir was furious, I could tell, so I muttered a low, “Calm,” to him, and tried to stay that way, myself. But my wariness was intensifying as the big man focused his stare at the two of us, light eyes unreadable. I could feel my body tensing involuntarily, preparing for flight if I had to. In some of the more superstitious villages I had passed through, even my skills hadn’t been enough to get me a decent place to sleep and supplies. And after a few beatings, I had learned to run-and fast-at the first sign of danger. The worst time had been when I had been attacked by a bunch of children with rocks. They were kids-I wasn’t about to fight back or anything.
A moment later, though, the man smiled disarmingly, and said, “Eh, I think you’re overreacting, Medea. They look harmless.” Medea looked like she was about to protest, but the man talked right over her, to us, “Am I right? You boys don’t want any trouble, do you?” Despite his easy posture and friendly expression, there was an edge of warning in his tone.
Amir jumped to reply before I could say something sensible. “No, we don’t, but apparently she does. All we want is to not have our shit dug through.”
Apparently able to tell which of us was less emotional, the man looked over to me and asked, “What happened?”
I shrugged. “I woke up, and she was looking through my writing case.”
The man leveled a stare at Medea, who put her chin up defiantly. “I wasn’t going to take anything!” She repeated. “I was just…curious…” The last part was less assertive.
The man shook his head and sighed. “I apologize on behalf of Medea, then. She’s too impetuous for her own good.” He ignored an incoherent protest from the girl in question. “My name is Caerrick. Why don’t you share our dinner, if that’ll make it up to you at all?”
“Oh, um, that’s alright,” I said, “Nothing was taken…”
But the man kept smiling. “Really, I insist. We had good hunting today, and there’s plenty to go around.”
Amir was still scowling at Medea, and I was nervous, but…food. So, I nodded, and said simply, “Sure.”
“Come along, then,” Caerrick said, and Medea, still wordlessly seething, followed him. Amir and I fell into step a little ways behind them, Amir muttering under his breath. The only phrase that I caught was, “Accost her? As if, that complete bitch.”
…
Dinner preparations were a tense affair. I was nervous of Caerrick and Medea, Amir couldn’t look at Medea without snarling, and she felt the same about him. She distrusted me at best, thought she seemed more wary than anything, likely because it had been my possessions she had been rifling through. And Caerrick was trying to roast the meat and keep the peace between them, which had to be a formidable task. I was glad I kept my mouth shut and stayed out of it.
As a peace offering, I had donated some of my remaining flat bread to Caerrick, who seemed positively delighted.
“That’s something I haven’t tasted in a long while. Thank you…” He trailed off, expectantly. It was then that I realized that Amir and I never had shared our names.
“Haven. I’m Haven. He’s Amir,” I added, pointing over my shoulder.
“Nice to meet you,” he said amiably, turning the spits. Some grease dripped into the open flames, and sizzled there. I wondered idly what he was burning as I crouched near the man. Obviously, burning wood was more than an extravagance.
I wasn’t sure what to do, since I was still awkwardly holding the wafers, so I stayed there, and Caerrick took that as an invitation to strike up a conversation.
“So, since you have bread, I can only presume that you’ve just come from the coast?” He asked me.
“Yeah. Going upriver,” I said.
“What do you do that has you all the way north, like this? The only other people I’ve ever seen in the badlands are hunters, like Medea, Jayson, and me.”
I didn’t really want to share that. So, I jumped onto a distraction. “Jayson?”
“My nephew. He’s not here, right now. I sent him out to get plants…He normally doesn’t take this long,” the man mused, looking away from the hollow where they were camping out. He turned back to me after a second. “But he can take care of himself. What did you say you do?”
“I’m a scribe,” I answered, not wanting to expand.
The man looked at me, calculatingly. “You’re an interesting man, Haven, and you keep getting more so.” That unnerved me, and I tensed again. “You’re the most strongly auridium-touched person I’ve ever seen, you can write, you’ve got a box made of real wood, and you’re up north.”
Some of my inner panic must have begun showing on my face, because Caerrick laughed, and said, “Relax. I didn’t mean anything by it. I don’t suppose you have any reason to trust me, but I’m not out to get you.”
At that point in the conversation, Amir finally decided to join us, mostly to avoid Medea, I thought. “What’s cooking?” He asked, tilting his head.
Caerrick smiled, and craned his neck back to see him. “Lizard,” he replied simply, and Amir blinked at that, his face going absolutely blank.
I jumped in to clarify before he could ask a really, really obvious question to anyone that had grown up on Broken Fides. “The big brown ones that you can find just about anywhere, right?” The comment was directed to Caerrick, but meant for Amir.
“The very same. They don’t taste too bad, but they’re hard to catch. Luckily for us, Medea’s a fairly spectacular shot with a bow, but her father was the same way. She comes by that honestly.”
It was then that the girl spoke for the first time since we had arrived at the hollow. “Jay’s back,” was all she said, but I could almost sense that she was still flushed with pride from Caerrick’s compliments.
I looked over to where she was staring, and saw a figure approaching the fire. Jayson, I could only assume.
He called out to Caerrick as, “Uncle!” The man called back, asking, “You made it back alright, good. I was starting to worry.”
No reply was made until Jayson got closer to the fire, and I could see that he was staring suspiciously at Amir and myself.
“Yeah-I found a really big plant, and I had trouble carrying everything back,” he said to Caerrick, not taking his eyes off us.
“Well, Jay, come show me. And quit staring at our guests; it’s not polite. Go ahead and introduce yourself.”
“Uh, hi,” the boy said. He was younger than I had expected him to be, still in that gawky adolescent phase where limbs are too long and voices can’t decide their octave. “I’m Jayson.”
Amir, more talkative than me, was the one to introduce us. “I’m Amir. He’s Haven.” I gave a nod of acknowledgement, and watched as the boy and his uncle sorted the plants-odd, fleshy things with a kind of waxy surface-into two piles, by some quality that I couldn’t see.
Silence fell, somewhere between tense and companionable, as preparing the meal became the concerted effort of the group. The slightly stale bread was set close enough that the fire would warm it without scorching it. The meat kept cooking, and, to my surprise, one of the piles of plants was brought over, also with the intention of being roasted and eaten. But soon enough, everything was done, and we all sat on the ground near the fire. Initially, conversation remained at a standstill, as we all ate quickly to take the edge of out hunger. It was much richer food than I usually had, even in villages.
I jumped when Caerrick addressed Amir and me. “So, one of you is a travelling scribe, you said?”
I swallowed, and replied, improvising, “We both are.” Telling them that Amir had been a physicist wouldn’t have gone over well, I assumed.
“Don’t your type typically work alone?” On anyone else, the question would have been probing, but something in Caerrick’s demeanor made it obvious that he was merely curious.
I couldn’t think of a reply to that, so the silence stretched a little too long before Amir answered for me, “Safety in numbers, and all.”
Caerrick chuckled. “That’s the truth. But it’s a good segway…I’ve been considering…Jayson’s interested in taking on scribe’s training, and I think he’d be good at it. He’s a smart boy.”
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here, uncle,” Jayson mumbled in the affronted tones that only a sulky adolescent can master. Caerrick ignored him, and continued, “So it almost seems like fate that the two of you show up, so far north of the coast. I guess what I’m trying to ask is…do you think you’d consider sticking around to teach him? You get a share in whatever we hunt or gather out of it, of course.”
Medea stood up, furious. “How can you decide this? You have no clue who they are! It’s been hardly an hour since we met them in the first place!”
“I can see that they’re harmless lads. Half-starved by the look of them, at that. Hardly a threat,” Caerrick commented.
“You don’t find it suspicious that two scribes are in the badlands? I doubt highly that the lizards need anything written!” She protested.
I’ve never dealt with yelling well. When I was younger, I’d end up in tears every time someone raised their voice at me. That had changed, but I still hated shouting. It tended to make me irrational. And so, to my own surprise, the truth was coming out of me. “I wanted to see my home.”
All eyes turned to me. “Or…what’s left of it, at least. For closure, I guess…” I trailed off, my voice barely above a whisper by the last word.
Silence. Then, Medea blurted, “Are you from Goldenhill?”
I blinked. “Yes.”
“You mean it’s gone?” Medea said, tilting her head and frowning.
I just nodded, and her face fell. Caerrick was the one to speak. “Medea is from your village, then. She left with her parents when she was very young, though…” I just nodded, feeling numb as I, for once, couldn’t repress the memories of my village. Goldenhill had been a large settlement, located on a bluff overlooking an oasis. And it was right on the edge of the Want. Still, Medea and I looked the same age, so it made sense that I didn’t remember her.
“So what happened to the village,” Jayson asked tactlessly through a mouthful of plant, “Was it attacked by Others?” I winced, and flinched. I didn’t trust myself to speak. I tried-swallowing a few times, but finally settling for a slow nod as I drew my knees up to my chest, setting my plate on the ground.
Finally, I felt like I could speak. “Goldenhill was decimated…I think I was the only survivor…” I flinched again when I felt a hand on my shoulder, but it was only Amir. He gave it a quick squeeze, then withdrew. It was an oddly…comforting gesture.
“I’m sorry you had to live through all that, son…” Caerrick said, sounding genuinely sympathetic. “Sounds like you had a rough life… At least you’re not alone, now,” he offered, trying to be hopeful.
“What?” I asked, tilting my head. Caerrick glanced at Amir, and said, “I don’t have a problem with you both being men, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”
I still didn’t understand what he meant, but apparently Amir did, because he quickly replied, “Oh, no, we’re not…”
“Oh! Sorry for assuming…” Caerrick looked embarrassed, and I still felt like I had missed the meaning of that last bit of the conversation.
There was another long lull before the older man asked, “So, what do you think of my offer? If you like, we can head north with you. It seems like adequate repayment for teaching Jay…”
I considered. I was obviously unprepared for a journey through the badlands, especially with Amir. These three were thriving in the harsh environment, though. But Amir’s identity would be compromised. We had been lucky so far, but it was only a matter of time before the man said something so outlandish that it would become obvious that he wasn’t Fidelian. Or maybe I was just paranoid. I looked at Amir, the question written plainly in my expression. What do you think of this?
Amir gave a pointed glare in Medea’s direction, but then relented and shrugged. He was neutral. So, I took the initiative. “It's a deal.”
-
Now, since I tend to read my work out loud to Roommate and Friend-From-Across-The-Hall, and they both like to come up with awful jokes regarding my poor, innocent characters, here is a parody of the first scene, as penned by Roommate. It's hilarious, and while she claims to not be a writer, I totally recommend it.
Begin Parody
-
Haven.
The day was cloudy. Just cloudy. I suppose I could dramatically narrate the state of the sky on a clear day and build up an emotional hype regarding blue and gold, but I’d much rather have a vague flashback that I’ll just end up quickly suppressing right alongside my memory of Uncle Bernie and his pocket. There wasn’t candy inside, just a hole. Just a hole. With a mild chance of showers later. Wait, what plot point was I supposed to be establishing again? Something about the north and okra.
Unable to reclaim my train of thought, I silently ripped my shirt down the middle to let in some air. I couldn’t think straight with my nipples suffocating under such stiff, unwieldy cloth. Now let’s see…Oh, yeah! Blah blah blah technology is dead blah blah blah magical, rainbow rock blah blah blah all of humanity is trapped on a continent on a lovely planet by the name of Brokeback Fedis.
Thankfully, we’ve learned from our past mistakes. Humanity had discovered that ignorance lead only to its own destruction, and they came to this planet with the determination to not let the unknown frighten them int-
Humanity: Holy shit! Does that rock change colors?!
Person: (Touch) Ah! I’m mutating into a glorious golden, blue guy! Well, at least I’m not green.
Humanity: Nonetheless, we can’t very well come to this new planet without establishing some prejudices first.
Gold-Blue People: Awwww.
Humanity: No no. We’ll have none of that. Now begone. We have some ostracizing to do.
I blinked. My history teacher was weird. Not trusting my thoughts to follow a coherent train of thought, I decided to focus my attention on whatever happened to be in my direct line of vision. Hmmm, ocean. Hmmm, jellyfish. Hmmm, cloud shaped like a bunny. Hmm-Hold on a moment!
I paused and squinted, not entirely certain I’d worn underwear today. But that was beside the point. I squinted some more. There was something out there. I squinted even more. I could almost make it out. I tried increasing the level of my squintage until I realized I had accidently closed my eyes. That explained the sudden darkness.
I opened my eyes and saw it.
…
…
…
Who the hell put that giant rocket ship there?!
I gaped at the sheer length and thickness of the, presumably, hard piece of ancient glory. The enormity of its dimensions penetrated the sky with ease and effortlessly dispelling the waters pathetic attempts at resistance. The all-consuming, all-encompassing size of its phallic wonder wooed me into submission…Crap, I thought as I shifted my pants. Freud would have a field day. Luckily, his knowledge of unconscious desires related to the groin and one’s mother was lost with the obliteration of Earth. That and yodeling. I suppressed a shudder. Yodeling.
Deciding that I’d had enough internal dialogue for the day, I headed back to the village I was temporarily occupying for my trade. I am a scribe. My parents, being the learned individuals that they were, forced myself and my siblings to study the written language rather than, say, go outside, which might explain why my capacity for friendship hasn’t really changed much since their inevitable death and my expulsion into the real world. Unfortunately, my parents also had an odd sense of humor. Since I was the least favorite accident, they decided to teach me everything wrong. What was “cat” became “khaat”, “butter” became “buhtur”, and “Hello” became “fndsj74?f”. I’m sure beneath all their laughter and mocking, there was love. It was just buried…beneath laughter and mocking. And rocks.
Coming to my senses, I’d realized I’d involuntarily collapsed in the middle of the town square sobbing uncontrollably and screaming “WHY GOD?!” during my flashback. Those things tended to happen when I thought about my dead family and loved ones. I stood up with an air of measured grace, brushing away the dust and manure that clung to me like a single mother attempts to cling to her independence, and strolled regally into the inn I was staying at.
-
End Parody
Thanks for reading, if you got that far. I'd love to hear what you thought.
This will likely be the last thing I post for...quite a while. Finals start in a week, and, well, my grandfather passed away yesterday, and I'm a little torn up and uninspired due to that.