Figurehead

thirteen

My belongings now contain more food than necessary, given to me from my afa. My ama washed every item of clothing I had, then gave me more. Sret gave me nothing tangible, but she gave me laughter and perhaps hope. Hope that this family will remain close, unified despite our separations. Hope that she will discover for herself how great the Lord truly is. Others of Huistef who knew me when I was younger gifted me with their blessings, their smiles, their kind words.

I don't bring Fik.

I choose to walk instead, despite the weight of my belongings. I don't mind the slower pace, don't mind the burden because I can stop whenever I want. My ama doesn't know I'm here, trudging along the worn, dusty road to Vrendust's broken city. I don't know where she thinks I am, but it's not here.

Out of habit, I have the thin hare's pelt tied at the back of my neck and pulled up over my mouth and nose. It seems to be a good habit for me to have here in this war-scarred province. The outskirts of the city- the farms- are fields filled with unwanted pests. Weeds. The farmhouses are crumbling, some of them charred remains of prosperity that once was. The dwellings are the same, the streets coated in dust, rubble blocking some passages. But there are people here, civilians milling around like ants as they work together, loud in their chatter, moving pieces of rubble aside, rebuilding homes. Civilians of all kinds of roles work alongside soldiers of differing rank with smiles and laughter. It's.. Beautiful.

I turn down one of the passages, stopping to perch on a broken wall- a pile of clay bricks covered in dirt- and relieve my shoulders of my belongings.

I'm shocked to hear the chatter of children as they enter this passage- this passage with only one way in or out- and run around, chasing each other as the dust rises in clouds at their feet. I recognise the game they play; dog and cat, we called it. One of the children acts as dog to chase the others- the cats- and once a cat is caught, it is his or her turn to act as dog. Sometimes, before the game starts, the dog decides there are three dogs, or nobody knows who the dog is except for them. It was simple. Most of the time.

I rifle through my stuff to take out a bundle of sweetened flatbreads, putting one into my own mouth as I tug the hare's pelt from my face, despite the dust before me. One of the children glances at me, sees the snack, and runs up to me with a shy look at it. "Here." I give her the whole bundle.

"Thank you," she says delightedly, snatching it from me to crow about it to the others. The game appears to end, at least temporarily, while each of the cats and the dog enjoy a piece of sweetened flatbread each before resuming their chase out of the street.

It will be a while before falling light. I don't know if I intend to stay the night here. Is there a place for me? But perhaps Nirs will be here, and Sher. Maybe even Frei and Pev, or Lus, or Med, even.

I pack my things and carry them on my back, continuing through the city and its new inhabitants. Some of the dwellings are fully intact, some with smoke rising from the panels in the roofs. There are temporary shelters on dwelling rooftops. And there are people everywhere.

Vrendust's marketplace is just as big and just as busy as Aranakiu's, and while not as big, more busy than Anshakim's. There is a lot of rubble here, too, all over the place, but sorted into piles based on the main material used in each piece. On the other side of the city, it seems like all the dwellings are in ruins, rubble covering the streets. I can see no civilians there, either, but I can catch glimpses of armed soldiers, alone or in pairs, talking to each other, very occasionally laughing.

"You look lost," someone calls out to me, and I turn to see a boy Sret's age with his hands on his hips. He is covered completely, head-to-toe, in dust.