Into The Furnace

Chapter One

EMELDA

It's gotten stuffy inside the bonnet of the wagon so I unzip the closure. The cold breeze hits me like what I imagine being hit by a train would be like. Little igloos form on my brown skin as the light of full Odea floods the sandy floor in its blue bright and just light. The dry orange of the day died and all the dunes look like dark blue ground up ice. Stars, stark and evident, pepper every part of the sky's circumference. It's beautiful — nights in Lamplava can never be beat. Something about them reminds me of the person I forgot I was. Perhaps I was an astronomer or my mother was one. I don't truly know. The confusion just always upsets me.

I am here now but who am I? What is the present without the past? I argue that without the past then time and memory and personas do not exist for all of those need passage, progress, change. I'd like to liken myself and, all of us in The Furnace to occurrences. We have no past, just a present and a future, just like the universe. Who knows who or what the universe once was and... does it truly matter? I always tell myself who I was doesn't matter because I am here and now but that always melts away when the sleepless nights swing in.

Was I a philosopher?

Staying up alone fills my head with such thoughts. Existentialism, unexplained. Unprovoked, like a natural disaster.

"Close it!" Penrose snaps, lifting her head up momentarily. I take it she is glaring it me, it's too dark to tell. I dread going back to the heat of our bodies so I come out of the wagon completely and zip her in. The sand feels like little icicles under my feet. The air is clear like the top of a mountain. It's so quiet it's almost like sandrens aren't around. It's almost like, everything around me isn't trying to kill me. I let my feet tunnel into the sand as I walk over to the horses tied to the only tree for miles. It's little flowers are a deep golden yellow, still visible in Odea's light. Odea is an oddly bright moon, that's how it is. I call it a moon because it lights our nights but it doesn't function quite like the one on earth. It has it's own light, Penrose once told me it's actually a star. Penrose is usually right about things.

The horses could easily break off branches from the tree but they choose not to. I suspect they also love the fragrance of the tree. I brush the head of Flora, my black mare and she shakes her head. Licking my hand when it grazes her lips in passing.

"Hey Flora," I change my voice. I assume this is how the horse will understand me. Flora and I are close. We've become an inseparable two in these past 20 days. We stole her and Floyd from a bar in Incaytio. They were skinny and starving but it's not like they aren't starving now.

In a whisper, I promise Flora we will be getting to Hiroka soon. I hope we will be getting to Hiroka soon. I too am tired of traveling. It's far too tedious but then again — what can I do with my time but keep moving. We have no money so getting to Hiroka is not a guarantee of rest. Penrose is so enamored with traveling, stopping isn't a option anyway. With my luck we'd only stay there for three days tops and move on. I admire her great sense of self; she knows what she wants to do and does it shamelessly. I, I follow. I can't imagine my life without her, she's a savior I never asked for but so greatly need.

I leave the horses alone and decide to go back to sleep. I zip myself inside with Penrose and cuddle up behind her in the wagon. I hope to dream, but nobody dreams in this world. Sleep is an empty void where the soul is suspended. A gaping feeling in the chest is an alarm, it's what will wake me up tomorrow. Unsurprisingly, I lay awake behind her sleeping body. Her warmth fills me up but the warmth gets too much in our enclosed space. I want to go back outside but what is there for me but emptiness. The silhouette of her chest rises and falls, soothingly like waves on a silent night. I lay my hand over her and move in slightly closer. Perhaps this little space will be enough to still hold her and feel comfortable.