Of Caverns and Casters ✓ [TLRQ #1]

Chapter 20 - Leavi

Two months.

Two months marching along narrow passes and treacherous ledges.

Two months of bone-chilling cold and exhaustion.

Two months among foreigners.

Two months with a near-silent Sean.

I never knew two months could be an entire lifetime. But, somehow, these have been. It's as though someone plucked me out of my home and dropped me in another world. The language is different, the culture is different, the entire rules of survival are different. There's never enough food to go around, and I spend any meal we eat just hoping their appetite never outweighs their superstition. As long as they stay scared of Sean, we'll survive on what scarce rations they parcel out.

I have never gone hungry before. Never even considered it. I've passed beggar upon beggar in the streets of Erreliah, and the thought never struck me, That could be me. I could be that person begging, sitting on the cold curb in my rags, my bony fingers holding a cracked teacup to passersby.

But here, I ache for that woman on the curb. I am that woman on the curb, reliant on the grudging generosity of strangers looking on me with contempt. Here, my skin is ice, my clothes are grime, and my stomach is insatiable.

Here, endurance is key.

Before, surrounded by scientists, the only thing my strength was useful for was popping the seal on jars of formaldehyde. Instead, in this world of endless marching, my intelligence is what holds all that triviality. The sole thing it's done so far is let me decode a little more of their language. Other than that, the only learning I accomplish is physical. The cotton-top boy stops showing up, and my hands learn to tie the tent knots. Marches lengthen, and my feet learn to walk no matter how much they blister. Rations decrease to one meager noonday meal, and my stomach learns to appreciate whatever it gets.

We'll be in Xela soon, I tell myself. Just a little longer, and this will all be over.

At least the traveling has gotten easier as we've gone on. The Traders led us down into a valley. Its flat land stretches so far I can't even see the mountains that wait for us beyond the horizon. It's warmer here, more autumn than winter. Drizzling rain replaces biting snow. It's not as pretty, but it's easier to cope with. There are no more narrow paths or steep drops to navigate, just even terrain.

All of it's a needed relief, and I don't question it. Just like they have been, my feet keep moving, relishing the small respite. Just like it has been, when my head hits my blankets, I fall straight asleep. And just like they have been, my thoughts stay mechanical, fixed on moving one foot in front of the other.

Which is why it takes me two days to realize—

In my blankets, I tremble, but I throw them off and stumble out of the tent. Behind me, Sean calls, "Riveirre, where are you going?" The wind blows my hair to the side, and the wet grass slides across my bare feet. I trip over a loose stone but hurriedly push back up, eyes locked on the edge of camp.