The sun reached down into their little dip in the land and they set off again. By the time they reached the crest in the landscape the plain was obscured only by a faint morning mist. The columns of smoke were still climbing into the heavens here and there, marking a small settlement or a large ship that had fallen victim to the recent violence. Closer to them, close enough to read the lettering on the back of it, was a train.

A quick peek around confirmed that a large crater replaced the rail shortly up ahead; the conductor had narrowly stopped in time. Then, at some point, the three cars in the front had been hit with fire.

“Do you think there are bodies?” Vanaka asked softly.

The wind was blowing at their back, so if there was charred flesh on that train Saketa couldn’t smell it.

“I heard that people died on a train out here,” she replied. “I do not know if this is the one.”

Saketa kept going, but slowed her pace. There was no reason not to be respectful.

“I want to ask you: Do your people hide death?” she said sombrely.

“That is an interesting way of putting it,” Vanaka said. “I suppose we do, if I understand you correctly. Our world is peaceful, and we have decent medicine.”

She was silent for a little period, but there was a tension in the air that made Saketa wait for her to continue.

“I saw bodies being recovered, back in the city,” the girl then said, her voice getting softer still. “From the ruins. I saw people react to crushed and burned loved ones. It... hurt.”

“It is good that it hurt,” Saketa said gently. “It means you have empathy.”

Her charge let out a humourless little chuckle.

“I guess so. But that does not mean I want to see it. I take it... Kalerans do not hide death?”

“Kalero is a very living world,” Saketa said, getting lost in thought for a moment. “Very vibrant. Its biosphere is dynamic and constantly competing against itself. This has resulted in very potent predators; large, quick and clever. And the elements themselves can be quite harsh. We have reached a certain equilibrium, but death is still only ever one mistake or lean season away.”

She walked up to the destroyed train car and peered inside.

“I do not want to be too judgemental, but I feel many cultures make a mistake with their dead,” she said as she kept her gaze on what lay within. “It is the great inevitability. Pretending otherwise doesn’t lessen its power over us.”

“I think I just want to be happy while I can be,” Vanaka said.

“Your outlook is yours to decide.”

She continued on walking, and heard Vanaka follow on her heels. She did not turn back to see if the girl looked in. It really was her own business.

Neither of them pushed for conversation for a while after that. There were a few more craters, and they passed one of the stubborn columns of smoke on the left, although it was too far away to see what exactly was causing it. Around the time Saketa felt the girl’s spirit was lifting again, the wind picked up significantly, producing a loud clanking and howling. As soon as they crested a mild hill they saw why. A ship had been blown apart by the capital’s air defences. It seemed to have exploded from the inside, judging by how spread out and small the pieces were. Many of them acted as wind chimes, either on their own or by banging against one another as they swayed.

It was hardly conducive to conversation, neither practically nor spiritually, and they simply continued on in silence. They rested around noon, nibbled at their provisions with the ghost-like howling in their ears, and continued on with it slowly fading away at their backs. Saketa called on her discipline to not let it get to her, but it was still a relief when it fully left her ears.

Vanaka let out a relieved exhale.

“How many do you think were on that ship?” she asked.

“If it was properly staffed, I would say fifty at the very least,” Saketa replied.

“This is awful.”

“It is.”

Their next interaction came an hour later, as the sun was nearing the western horizon, glaring into their eyes. The landscape went into a sudden sharp dip, necessitating a raised bridge to continue the rail smoothly, and at the top of the slope they stopped and looked at the town ahead.

“I did study a public map, as I was thinking of leaving,” Vanaka said. “I cannot pronounce that town’s name properly, but I know that it was evacuated before being bombarded. I saw the flow of people come in.”

“Good,” Saketa said. “Because it looks like this might be our home for the night.”

The town had indeed been bombarded. Even with the glare in their eyes the damage was apparent enough. More importantly, the rail bridge had been severed between them and it, so they would need to pass through it anyway.

“Do you think we should take supplies if we find them?” Vanaka asked as they walked down the slope and the edge of the town. “I suppose technically it would be stealing.”

“I find it hard to condemn taking food when in need. Just do not help yourself to valuables.”

“I was not intending to.”

They arrived at something of a lagoon right on the edge of the town. It seemed to be a recent addition, caused by damage from the bombardment, considering the roof that could be faintly seen through the surface. A trick of the landscape had made it hard to make out from the slope, and now that the sun was setting it was hard to see just how wide it was. But it certainly wasn’t small.

“Oh,” Vanaka vocalised, fatigued and frustrated. “This is excellent.”

She cleared her throat.

“I hope I do not sound like an idiot, but one hears that Wardens can... well... travel between places without travelling.”

“We call it Shifting, and indeed we can,” Saketa said. “But we cannot take passengers, or I would have gotten much further today.”

“Oh,” Vanaka said, and looked slightly guilty. “Well, which way do you think we should walk?”

She pointed in the two directions available to them.

“Neither, if I can manage this properly,” Saketa said. “Now let me focus.”

She concentrated on a large bit of fencing on the other side of the water, the kind that simply consisted of solid sheets that people arranged as needed. After a couple of moments she pulled one sheet across, tearing it from the fence. Vanaka yelped a little as the sheet hit the water, skidding towards them with rapidly depleting momentum. It drifted the final stretch languidly and came to a stop on the shore.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Saketa felt rather pleased with herself.

“So... that’s our raft?” Vanaka asked.

“Your raft. I think this will have trouble carrying two.”

Saketa drew on strength, then got to work bending the corners upwards. The sheet was slightly ovoid to begin with, and after a bit of work it looked like it wouldn’t take on too much water.

“Can you swim?”

“I can, yes.”

“Then let us try this. The water is calm. I think you should be able to paddle with your hands. Let me just take your pack.”

Vanaka handed her backpack over and Saketa hefted it in her hands for a moment, testing the weight.

“You have been carrying all this all day? You are stronger than you look.”

The girl smiled, and turned around as she clambered onto the makeshift raft.

“I know.”

Saketa waited on the shore until Vanaka’s efforts got her halfway across, then she closed her eyes, focused, and Shifted onto the opposite side. The girl let out a bemused little bark of a laugh as Saketa appeared before her, clutching the pack to her chest.

“You are certainly interesting company,” she said as Saketa helped her ashore.

“Thank you.”

She seemed somewhere between amazed and confused as her mind rearranged to accept what she’d just witnessed. Saketa had noticed this reaction rather frequently since leaving the Outer Fringe, and had learned to simply shrug and carry on.

The town was modestly sized. She’d learned not to assume too much about population, given the different cultural outlooks on privacy and family size, but surely this place had to have been home to well under fifty thousand people.

The bombardment hadn’t been all that thorough; more of a brief spurt of fire from powerful ship weapons than anything really focused. Whether they had been discouraging the refugees from returning, not aware that it was abandoned, or simply destroying for fun under circumstances when they could get away with it, Saketa could not guess at. War was not the time to look for reason.

The craters were big, but spread about, leaving at least half the houses intact, if marked by flying debris and scorch marks.

The streets were wide and none of the houses had more than one floor, giving a tragically cosy impression behind all the damage. A digital clock stood on top of a pole in the town’s central area, by a park of some sort, but it was dead. Indeed, there were no lights or any hints of working power.

“Shall we split up to play scavenger?” Vanaka suggested as they stopped for a bit of a breather.

“I think I glimpsed a shop over there,” Saketa said and pointed to her right. “I can see about finding hearty food there. What say you find us fresh water?”

She held up her depleted bottle and Vanaka took it.

“Sure.”

The girl walked a few steps away, looking around.

“I suspect the faucets will not be working. But I will see if I cannot find severed pipes in one of the craters. I can check how clean it is with-”

Saketa sensed danger, and it sent her hand to the sword before she heard the rumble. Out of the park grounds, spewing clumps of dirt and grass, rose a dark object, whirring as it moved with terrible speed.

Saketa channelled power into herself and her blade, moving to intercept as it headed for Vanaka with a lunge. She made it, and clove through metal with a swipe. Another came, also bursting from the ground with that horrible noise of whirling blades. Vanaka dove to the side. The thing hit nothing but ground, sending more of it flying about as the blades worked, then turned around with whiplash quickness.

It was about the size of a large dog, vaguely serpentine, and Saketa’s enhanced perception made out at least three spinning blades on the end of limb-like protrusions. She didn’t know which one of them it was going for, but made it a moot point by charging before it could.

It lunged to meet her, but could not stand up to the power she channelled through the sword. There was a shower of sparks, a grinding of metal and of dying servos, and like the other one it rolled on the ground in two pieces.

Saketa stood at the ready, sword in both hands, but sensed no more.

“I believe it is safe now,” she said, and turned to the girl.

She was shaken, staring at the bots with horrified fascination. One of the blades was still going, though only due to momentum.

“What?”

“Mine-bots,” Saketa said gently and sheathed her sword.

She held a hand out, helping Vanaka back to her feet.

“They must have been left behind by whoever did all this. I have heard about such things; more expensive than regular mines, but reusable.”

“Th... thank you.”

Saketa had never considered herself the most reassuring of her kind, but a hug seemed to be in order. The girl certainly did not object as Saketa put her arms around her.

“You cut through metal like it was nothing,” Vanaka wondered out loud after calming down some.

“Well, not nothing,” Saketa replied, mindful of a bit of an ache in her arm.

“What is that sword made of??”

“It is less the sword itself and more what it allows me to do.”

Vanaka was silent for another little stretch, before separating.

“I think... I think we should stick together.”

# # #

There was a rail station near the centre, serving a different track than the one they’d been following. It was intact and the main door had been left open. The elements had had time to blow a bit of plant matter and ash in, but for the most part the modest interior was entirely serviceable as a resting place, complete with comfortable benches. The only downside was that the power was out and the faucets did indeed not work. But they had found water and the nights here were fairly warm, so it was not much of a concern.

They camped on opposite benches, eating lunch in silence. Vanaka then took a heater out of her pack and arranged it between them before activating. It provided a nice, soothing, soft blue light and an aura of warmth. Vanaka had a thermal blanket with her and Saketa could make her body endure far worse than a mild night chill, but got the impression that the girl wanted to feel useful, so she didn’t comment.

Saketa did her exercises, flowing from one intensely straining pose to another, using gravity alone as equipment. Vanaka apparently had entertainment options with her, but simply sat and stared into the blue light. She was still at it by the time Saketa finished.

“This is not how I planned this journey,” the girl said morosely.

“The journey from your home?”

“Yes.”

“What was the purpose of it, if that is not another secret?”

“I would not... call it a purpose,” Vanaka said, still staring into the light. “My people are... I suppose ‘conservative’ is the word. History has given us reason to be, but I still feel they are overly isolationist. Overly cautious. They mostly travel only to meet with distant kin, and when they do it is in small groups.”

She threw up her hands.

“But I want to live beyond just the familiar. I want to experience. I want to know the galaxy and the things in it. I do not want to... well, be afraid. So I convinced my parents to let me take a little solo trip, bouncing between ports on commercial flights. It was supposed to end on Xivioth, where my father is waiting for me. A little triumph, all on my own, while I am on break from school.”

She sighed.

“The war was supposed to be far away.”

“I am sorry, Vanaka.”

The girl nodded, still looking morose. It was Saketa’s turn to sigh.

“I wonder if I am doing you a disservice,” she wondered.

“What?” Vanaka said, looking a bit alarmed.

“In leading you out here. There will be other hazards, and only luck will steer us past all of them before we reach the capital. I am powerful, Vanaka, but I cannot guarantee your safety.”

“I am not a child, Saketa. I know true safety is impossible. What are you saying?”

“I am saying that we are only a day’s journey away from the city, and it should be fairly safe for you to follow our route back to it.”

“Please don’t,” the girl said, staring intently at her. “You saw the state the city is in. I need you. I do not enjoy saying it, but I do.”

Saketa was silent for a bit, grappling with conflicting feelings.

“We will sleep on it,” Vanaka insisted. “We...” She exhaled. “We both had a start. We will feel better in the morning.”

“I suppose we will.”

Saketa did a quick meditation, going over her own state within and without, then lay down to rest.