The old man held up a finger to me, then pointed up to the sky. I looked up, nodding my understanding as the strange aircraft soared overhead. The sound followed a second later, tearing through the relative quiet of the small market. Those who came in from further out, the field workers and the foresters, covered their ears or cowered in fear. The rest of us, the “dwellers,” as we were called by them, stood stone-still, and waited for the roar to fade away.
After a moment, the man gestured. Speak now, the gesture told me. I cleared my throat, looked around, and then asked my question.
“Is it true? Has Altura truly given up to the Skyfallen?” I looked at him uneasily, hoping that it was just a lie that was circulating the city. “Have the Blood Mages failed us?”
“Child, the Blood Mages failed us long ago. The Empire warned us of its’ plan from the first. King Damron first allied with them, then took up arms when our people had already become all but slaves. Blood Magic is strong, but there are few left that know the true extent of its’ power. We should have raised hammer and blade to them. Instead, we raised offerings of bread and bed, sharing water with them even. Amaria falls today, and it is likely that Tohn will fall tomorrow. We are not so far out of the way that the Empire will spare us.”
I bit at the inside of my cheek. “So, the rumblings are true, then? We are an enslaved people now?” A tear ran down my cheek, the crimson drop leaving a red streak on my face. The old man wiped it off with his still-outstretched finger, then placed the fingertip into his mouth. Waste not the water of your body.
I walked back to the shop to tell my grandfather the news. He was standing at the counter, a toothless smile on his creased face as I walked into the little game store. He had never allowed the fear of invasion to break his childlike spirit. He knew that our small slice of the city needed him to keep their joy. He obliged happily.
I walked through the dangling velveteen felines that hung from the ceiling on strings which engulfed the entryway. He was rolling a die which displayed different animals on each of the six sides. It landed with the picture of a bovii facing upward, and my grandfather let out a loud “Marooh!” which sent his audience of street children into fits of laughter.
“Gr’apa, I need to speak with you,” I said. I looked over to him, desperate to break his attention away from the silly game. He looked up, his eyes alight with the tears of happiness.
“My boy! Come, join in! Let us see which of the spirits will guide your journey!” He scooped up the wooden cube, shook it in his cupped hands, and let it loose on the counter. It bounced and rolled, finally landing with the hawk pointing up. “Ooh, Divan! It is Hawk that will guide you!” He turned to the children, lifted up his arms, and flapped imaginary wings. “A’kahh,” he screeched, making the children shriek with feigned terror. He flapped his arms and ran around the store, chasing the children. They laughed and screamed, and he laughed after them.
“Gr’apa! Please, this is important!” I stood stone-faced, waiting for him to give me his attention. He stood at the doorway, laughing at the children that he had chased out of the store with his antics. “The Skyfallen have truly captured the capital. What the viewscreen told us has been confirmed. The king will be killed, and Amaria flies the flag of the Empire!”
“And? What would you have me do, child? I am no king, no blood mage. I am a toymaker! I sell smiles, and I intend to do so until I am permitted to see your Gr’ama once more.” He showed a brief moment of sadness, but I knew he would not cry. The elders had learned long ago how to restrain themselves from willingly or unwillingly losing a single drop of themselves.
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Waste not of the water of your body.
I looked sadly at my grandfather, who simply smiled the same toothless smile as always. He was right, there was nothing that he could do. “But shouldn’t we try? We can fight them! I will fight.”
“My boy, with what do you plan to fight? Our people have fled the Empire for many years. We were lucky that we were able to live for so long outside of their rule. Some will perish, others will toil. We cannot fight the Skyfallen, any more than we can fight the planet herself. The wind will sweep us away and others will come. They, in turn, will only be here a heartbeat before they are uprooted and a new seed bears fruit in this land.”
His eyes looked distantly across the shelves of soft felines and hard-edged blood mages in miniature. The corners of his mouth drooped for a moment, a fleeting betrayal of his almost constant smile. Then, his eyes regained focus and he was back, my Gr’apa, the toymaker that took me in when my father was chosen to be an envoy to the Terran Empire.
“So, should we just let the Skyfallen take our homes? Our families? Is there anything we can do?” I looked at him hopefully, expectant. Gr’apa has always had the answers.
“We can make toys, and make the children smile. We can preserve that thing that makes our people worth wanting to fight for. One day – hopefully not soon, but not so far off as you might think – we will have nothing but the memories of laughter. Let the children grow with some small happiness in their hearts. This is what we can do.” He held the die out to me. My first toy that sold in this store. I took it and looked down at the wooden cube with all of its intricately carved, hand-painted faces. I looked back up to the old man. He gestured to the toy.
“This is what we must do.”
I walked back from the toy store, my cloth mask worn up high to keep the sand on the wind from blowing into my mouth and nose. There had been an announcement transmitted across the channels that a ceremony would be taking place. The king was giving up the crown, the high priestess dropping her scepter. Even High Mage Stravus was supposed to be there.
I was angry with the Terrans, and with our own rulers. Former rulers, I corrected myself. I looked up from my feet as I rounded the corner, and saw someone else walking the path in front of me. The man wore a full helmet to protect himself from the elements. It looked to be wired up to his belt. Old technology, but it still cost more than I would make in a month making toys. I watched the man suspiciously. The only people that kept that kind of tech were blood mages and royal knights.
Or the Skyfallen.
I stopped on the path that led up to my rooms. The man continued on, not noticing the boy that had stopped a few paces behind him. I watched as he turned down an alleyway and I tried to remember what was tucked away back there. Nothing good, I thought as I snuck up toward the alleyway and watched as the man walked deeper into the dark.
Once he was out of sight, I crept inward, wiping the dust from my goggles. I crouched in the shadows and moved slowly toward the row of doors. I didn’t see which one he had gone into, but I knew he couldn’t have gone far. I wanted to see my new masters up close, make them look me in the eye.
All of the doors were shut, and the sands showed no sign that they had been opened since the last gusts had blown in. I walked a little further, but the alleyway ended in a solid wall. I looked back behind me just in time to see the man pop out from behind a rain barrel; a long, curved knife was in his hand. I looked around for an escape. Knowing there was none to be found, I looked for something to fight back with.
A piece of wood was leaning against the wall. It looked as if it could have been left behind from a child’s playtime. I picked it up with both hands and raised it above my head. “Leave me alone, Empire vermin!” I shouted as I swung down as hard as I could.
The man slashed with his blade, and the stick was cut only an inch from my hand. I screamed, my bladder releasing as I dropped the remains of the stick and tried to say my last goodbye to the world that I loved. At least I will die free, and my blood will water the sands, I thought.
I waited for the knife to fall, but it didn’t. Finally, I opened my eyes to see that the man was walking away.