North
They stopped by a dwindling stream to get their bearings. Ahead of them was the way out of the canyon. The boy waited around for his companion to lead the way. He looked back to see the opening they came out of but saw only the uniform, stalwart rock. Disturbed, he went to inspect it. It was smoothed over and bald without any evidence of a breach, let alone a home to a sentient artifact within. Cale got up and started upon the exit, not giving a glance or a word of notification. The boy ran his fingers along the grooves in the stone and said nothing as he left it inexplicable and followed Cale uphill.
Rocks encumbered the harsh path they drudged. At times it inclined nearly vertically with stone shelves like discordant steps leading out from the canyon walls. Cale made the climb with grace but the boy struggled behind him. He never turned to help even as the child fell to reclaim his breath and dampen the pain in his legs, keeping on until eventually disappearing onto the chasm ceiling. Gavin hammered his boots onto the slope with each emphatic step burning into his muscles and weighing down his cargo, all the while questioning if this brutal road would now define his life.
Cale greeted the child perched on the shrunken curb of the canyon and studied him a bit as the boy panted and sat on the bluff next to him. He thumbed he myriad of color from the feathers flirting out from his quiver and hopped back onto the receding slant, saying nothing. He peeked his head over the final summit beholden in front of them and took the high step into it, leaving only barely noticeable prints made from his pointed footwear in the rusty soil as a beckoning for Gavin to follow. And so he did, bearing the weariness in his body and mind and opening the curtain left ajar.
The deep country laid naked before them at last. Above, gray skies churned due makings of rain. Below, gusts of wind whistled and surfed on crests of billowing yellow pasture. In the far right was the picturesque clay effigy of a mountain range, impossibly vast and shrouded in purple film spread carefully from each sequestered end. Nowhere were discernible signs of civilized life, only wild ingredients crashing and piecing together just barely hidden from view. It occurred to Gavin that he couldn't have imagined a more incredible and terrifying place as this. That tactile abstraction. But he remembered he was simply passing through, that this greatness was nothing but the bartered currency with which the way back would be opened.
A shady place under a small, hanging cliff was where they settled once the day had darkened and both travelers were spent. Cale dusted off the slate they'd sleep on and ran away any bothersome varmints, setting aside his bow and quiver from his sullen back. He kept the gold blade that Gavin saw as some kindred plaything on the cord tied around his waist, occasionally resting his hand on its hilt and oscillating it in his belt as though he was swinging a clock pendulum back and forth. He was quiet and would hardly look at the boy even while addressing him, keeping up an unbecoming sternness.
Gavin unburdened himself and sat down. "Cale", he said after a while. "I'm sorry that I..."
"No", Cale said. "You. You don't have to apologize. It wasn't anything you did." He looked nearby at a dead tree, solitary and premature for its time. "It was just the way things went. Perhaps the only way they could. We... I have to take it."
"Am I really what he said I was?" The boy struck at the evaded truth with an innocence that was bewildering and telling all the same.
"You musn't ask me that." He suppressed the doubt within him. "Nor anyone else. That is a question for you and you alone."
"Why not?"
"They can tell you what you are but they cannot make you believe it. You have to know it for yourself." He sat down next to him. "But know this. I will be with you for as long as it takes. I will not forfeit you and our mission."
The boy nodded. "Do you have any food?" Cale asked.
"Yes", Gavin opened his pack and from it unearthed a loaf of bread held in tan cloth. He unwrapped it and broke a piece off of it and handed it to Cale, leaving a chunk for himself. They sat in seclusion and ate and watched the evening embers passively dim under the far western crags they faced.
"It's soggy", Cale said.
"Sorry", Gavin smiled. Cale returned to him an impish grin telling that his sanguine, youthful savior was still with him, changed though he was.
"Do you know where we're going?" Gavin asked.
"Yes. But it's been a long while since I've been there."
"How long have you been in those woods?"
"I don't know. A long time."
"You don't know?"
"Do you remember being born?"
"No."
"It's like that. Once I was in the ruins. There's nothing before that. That place and those living there were my only concern. From then I've had no need of time."
"But you still left."
"I did." He stood and walked out to see more of the plains. They were quiet. Faceless. "I am a stranger here. Like you." A deep azure began to paint the swaths of sky, mixing with the mountains. "Things are changing."
"I think I'm getting used to it." Gavin took from the bag his blanket and unfolded it. It was quilted with diagonal stitchwork intertwining along the borders and crossing the square patches. He brought a corner of it to his face. It smelled of his mother. He took the blanket and laid it on the hard rock and patted it. "I miss my bed. My home. But so do you... I hope they have real beds and houses where we're going."
Cale kept his gaze on the land. "They don't."
"No?"
"No. They're a woodland people."
"Oh."
He went back to him. "For now you'll have to make due with this. Best you get some sleep now. We'll leave at morning light."
The boy heard the galloping of horses in his sleep and imagined them racing up and down the hills but when he opened his eyes it was still there, accompanied now by the yelling and grunting of men and jostling of steel. Cale was already awake and bolted upright with an arrow in his bow. He brought an index finger to his pursed lips. It was hard to tell where they were. They rode without torchlight and their furious pace masked their number. Gavin froze. Though it felt infinite to him their locomotion faded to the chilly dunes as swiftly as it came and at once they were alone again. Alone but unsound. The softness of pattering rain began to break over the grass and with it the tremolo of thunder hinted from afar. They didn't sleep the rest of the night.
Rocks encumbered the harsh path they drudged. At times it inclined nearly vertically with stone shelves like discordant steps leading out from the canyon walls. Cale made the climb with grace but the boy struggled behind him. He never turned to help even as the child fell to reclaim his breath and dampen the pain in his legs, keeping on until eventually disappearing onto the chasm ceiling. Gavin hammered his boots onto the slope with each emphatic step burning into his muscles and weighing down his cargo, all the while questioning if this brutal road would now define his life.
Cale greeted the child perched on the shrunken curb of the canyon and studied him a bit as the boy panted and sat on the bluff next to him. He thumbed he myriad of color from the feathers flirting out from his quiver and hopped back onto the receding slant, saying nothing. He peeked his head over the final summit beholden in front of them and took the high step into it, leaving only barely noticeable prints made from his pointed footwear in the rusty soil as a beckoning for Gavin to follow. And so he did, bearing the weariness in his body and mind and opening the curtain left ajar.
The deep country laid naked before them at last. Above, gray skies churned due makings of rain. Below, gusts of wind whistled and surfed on crests of billowing yellow pasture. In the far right was the picturesque clay effigy of a mountain range, impossibly vast and shrouded in purple film spread carefully from each sequestered end. Nowhere were discernible signs of civilized life, only wild ingredients crashing and piecing together just barely hidden from view. It occurred to Gavin that he couldn't have imagined a more incredible and terrifying place as this. That tactile abstraction. But he remembered he was simply passing through, that this greatness was nothing but the bartered currency with which the way back would be opened.
A shady place under a small, hanging cliff was where they settled once the day had darkened and both travelers were spent. Cale dusted off the slate they'd sleep on and ran away any bothersome varmints, setting aside his bow and quiver from his sullen back. He kept the gold blade that Gavin saw as some kindred plaything on the cord tied around his waist, occasionally resting his hand on its hilt and oscillating it in his belt as though he was swinging a clock pendulum back and forth. He was quiet and would hardly look at the boy even while addressing him, keeping up an unbecoming sternness.
Gavin unburdened himself and sat down. "Cale", he said after a while. "I'm sorry that I..."
"No", Cale said. "You. You don't have to apologize. It wasn't anything you did." He looked nearby at a dead tree, solitary and premature for its time. "It was just the way things went. Perhaps the only way they could. We... I have to take it."
"Am I really what he said I was?" The boy struck at the evaded truth with an innocence that was bewildering and telling all the same.
"You musn't ask me that." He suppressed the doubt within him. "Nor anyone else. That is a question for you and you alone."
"Why not?"
"They can tell you what you are but they cannot make you believe it. You have to know it for yourself." He sat down next to him. "But know this. I will be with you for as long as it takes. I will not forfeit you and our mission."
The boy nodded. "Do you have any food?" Cale asked.
"Yes", Gavin opened his pack and from it unearthed a loaf of bread held in tan cloth. He unwrapped it and broke a piece off of it and handed it to Cale, leaving a chunk for himself. They sat in seclusion and ate and watched the evening embers passively dim under the far western crags they faced.
"It's soggy", Cale said.
"Sorry", Gavin smiled. Cale returned to him an impish grin telling that his sanguine, youthful savior was still with him, changed though he was.
"Do you know where we're going?" Gavin asked.
"Yes. But it's been a long while since I've been there."
"How long have you been in those woods?"
"I don't know. A long time."
"You don't know?"
"Do you remember being born?"
"No."
"It's like that. Once I was in the ruins. There's nothing before that. That place and those living there were my only concern. From then I've had no need of time."
"But you still left."
"I did." He stood and walked out to see more of the plains. They were quiet. Faceless. "I am a stranger here. Like you." A deep azure began to paint the swaths of sky, mixing with the mountains. "Things are changing."
"I think I'm getting used to it." Gavin took from the bag his blanket and unfolded it. It was quilted with diagonal stitchwork intertwining along the borders and crossing the square patches. He brought a corner of it to his face. It smelled of his mother. He took the blanket and laid it on the hard rock and patted it. "I miss my bed. My home. But so do you... I hope they have real beds and houses where we're going."
Cale kept his gaze on the land. "They don't."
"No?"
"No. They're a woodland people."
"Oh."
He went back to him. "For now you'll have to make due with this. Best you get some sleep now. We'll leave at morning light."
***
The boy heard the galloping of horses in his sleep and imagined them racing up and down the hills but when he opened his eyes it was still there, accompanied now by the yelling and grunting of men and jostling of steel. Cale was already awake and bolted upright with an arrow in his bow. He brought an index finger to his pursed lips. It was hard to tell where they were. They rode without torchlight and their furious pace masked their number. Gavin froze. Though it felt infinite to him their locomotion faded to the chilly dunes as swiftly as it came and at once they were alone again. Alone but unsound. The softness of pattering rain began to break over the grass and with it the tremolo of thunder hinted from afar. They didn't sleep the rest of the night.
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