THERE IS LIFE OUT IN THESE WILDS, IT SCREAMS, ONLY FOR A SECOND BEFORE THE WIND CARRIES AWAY THE PROOF OF ITS EXISTENCE.
“It started after I joined the Band, about eleven cycles ago. As you know I’ve never been the best with K’aakh, but the Band offered a way for me to improve. A way for me to improve my standing. And of course once I’d served my cycles, I’d have the stipend. I figured I’d serve the Katal Tzij, serve Yukaan, and maybe learn a thing or two along the way. Ahua’s grace, I was young and naive then.
“The training was brutal. We spent a full half cycle in Katal, and I was mainly practising K’aakh with other magos. Every morning we awoke early, before the rest of the Band recruits, long before Ahua began to brighten and bring the morning light. We trained as K’aakh magos, morning drills day in, day out, until our hands were raw, then blistered, then calloused.
“Every day, once the rest of the regulars awoke with Ahua’s light we joined them for breakfast and then military drills: formation fighting, shields, axes, spears. Afternoons were spent refining our agility and strength running miles in full armour with a spear in our hands, axes sheathed at our belts and shields on our backs. Obstacle courses, teamwork. It was ruthless. We lost a full quarter of a company in the first quarter cycle, some died of exhaustion, some from channelling accidents, six took their own lives, and I nearly joined them. Then they were replaced and we continued. It was brutal, and we hadn’t even deployed.
“I was already smoking iya daily, just for a little kick or to wake me up in the morning, as most of the men in my company did and it wasn’t a problem, but that is when I was first introduced to uxlanem. One of my squad, Me’xa, had smuggled some into the barracks, it wasn’t hard. For the most part the officers turned a blind eye, a small number of them were even involved in the smuggling. An easy way to make a few extra coins on the side, I suppose.
“Anyway, one day when I was complaining about the blisters on my hands Me’xa sauntered over to me and told me he had something that could help with it. Later that evening as we were heading back to the barracks he pulled me aside from the company and handed me a tiny wad of herbs. ‘Just have a lil’ chew on this, id’ll make you forget the pain. Heh, maybe you’ll even get a good night’s rest’ he said to me, voice lowered. ‘First ones on me. You decide you want any more, just lemme know, alrigh’?’ When I got back to my bunk I did as he said, just popped it in my mouth and started to chew on it, and he was right.
“Within minutes my hands no longer hurt, and after a few minutes more none of me hurt, in fact, I felt like I was floating, my whole body euphoric and peaceful. I had the best night’s sleep since I had joined the band and just like that, I was hooked. It was slow to start. I’d buy a wad from Me’xa when I was feeling particularly sore, but as time went on I started to need more to feel the effects, and started to feel sore without it. By the time we were deployed on our first excursion I was using a pouch a week. We were sent to secure a lumber camp on the border of the Xa'baron, some of their outriders had been raiding the area, and the local Qaja had pleaded for protection.”
Ki’nam sat, seemingly indifferent, but listening as Tomas continued.
“We were stationed out there for a cycle and the longer we stayed the more difficult it was to find uxlanem. I went into full withdrawal on the fifth night going without chewing, even after trying to ration the small amount I had. Vomiting, cramps, cold sweats, I couldn’t move, couldn’t even think. All I knew was pain, all I wanted was some release. I passed out at some point during the night. The captain found me unconscious in a pile of my own vomit next to the latrine the next morning.
“If it had been anyone else who found me, or any other night perhaps I would have escaped reprimand all together, but there had been an Xa'baron raid that night, we’d lost over a dozen men, including a few K’aakh magos. The captain could tell it was uxlanem withdrawal and threw me in prison. ‘To get me clean,’ they said. They kept me in there for almost a half cycle and when I was out they sent me to a different company, on the frontlines of the southern excursions. I suppose they thought it was a death sentence.
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“My new company were all veterans, every one of them had seen over three full cycles of excursions, and the captain, Tolom, was a harsh, strict man who required nothing short of perfection. They put me in a squad of magos, twelve of us, including Chojij, the squad leader. He was as strict as the captain, but fair. He pushed me to my limits and beyond them when it was needed, but not so much as to be cruel. He expected of me the same as he expected of the rest of the squad, and in time I became accepted as one of them. The rigour was good for me in some regards. I stayed clean for the rest of my time with the Band, but the things we did to the Xa'baron on those excursions broke something inside me.”
Tomas paused, pulling his own waterskin from his knapsack, and taking a swig. He didn’t offer any to Ki’nam, who was still seated, cross-legged and unmoving across the floor from him. Ki’nam didn’t seem to mind.
Placing his waterskin on the floor in front of him, Tomas continued, “We’d always been told that the Xa'baron were savages, who wanted nothing more than to murder Yukaan children and rape Yukaan women. For my first cycle of combat, I thought that was true. Their outriders would come careening in, ululating wildly as they fired a volley of arrows before wheeling away. Even with our shields up we always lost a man or two, usually just foot soldiers, we magos were too valuable to be put in range of a random volley, safely in the back ranks, loosing a volley of flame in return if they got close enough, though they rarely did.
“Then as we drove further into the plains and began razing their camps I began to doubt if they were any different from us. There was one incident that changed everything. By this time I had seen my share of combat, killed countless Xa’baron outriders. We sprung ambushes on them, hid spiked pits around our camps, none of which weighed greatly on my conscience. Kill or be killed, right?” Tomas looked towards Ki’nam, seeking validation, but Ki’nam’s face revealed nothing.
“The camps were different. We were the savages. We barraged them with K’aakh during our assaults, causing them to flee the flames straight into our ranks. Either binding them or cutting them down as they tried to escape the slaughter. We razed their tents with no thought as to who was inside, my own squad murdering young boys barely old enough to draw a bow, unarmed old men and cripples, and women in front of their children and they laughed as they did it. I saw babes and children lying charred and dead in the dirt. Were they dead by my hand? I could not know.
“I saw a boy screamed at me as a burning tent collapsed upon him. When I scrambled into the flames rescue him, he was already gone. It broke me.”
Tomas’ voice began cracking, tears welling in his eyes. “I stayed there crying until Ahua’s light dimmed. I performed a conflagration and in the middle of the night, once the ashes had cooled, I cast them into gentle flowing waters of the river. As they floated away I said a prayer to ask for something, someone, his own gods, anyone but Ahua to protect the child’s spirit and soul. I did not pray for forgiveness, for I knew I deserved none. I sought leave from the Band after that, and after a half cycle I was given reprieve.
“I travelled with a trade caravan back to Katal and upon arrival I headed straight to the slums, finding a boarding house and a source of uxlanem. A quarter cycle passed in a hazy blink of an eye and I was in debt to an uxlanem dealer. I began thieving to pay my debts, but a job went sideways and I was caught, arrested and thrown in prison. The Qaja overseeing my sentence was forgiving, two years hard labour and two years indentured servitude for the Katalqaja. I kept my life and my hands. Maybe I was lucky, maybe they didn’t want to waste a magos.
“I returned to Lukan after my sentence was over. Father was already beginning to get frail in his old age and Balam appreciated both my company and my help. I worked the fields, helped with the home and the cooking. It was a good life, a quiet life. A good few years with our Father. He always talked about coming out here, ‘one last time’ but he could barely walk from the house to the latrine. Now he’s here. Just as he wanted.”
Ki’nam uncrossed his legs. The movement surprised Tomas, the complete stillness of Ki’nam’s meditative pose broken in an instant. He rose, crouching below the ber'la bark roof and shuffled over to Tomas, pulling his younger brother’s head down into his chest as he sat. Tomas let himself fall into his brother’s embrace as the tears began streaming down his cheeks, his throat tight, warm snot dripping into his moustache. He sobbed until his eyes were dry and his throat was raw, Ki’nam holding his head in his arms, softly stroking his hair until they both fell asleep.