Nikodemus’ mind actively blocked out how his mother behaved in her worst moments. It seemed that only his subconscious mind would allow him to remember her dark parts. “Like all women, she had no flaws. It’s men who always louse things up.” Nikodemus said with a smile as he ruffled his daughter’s hair.

In some part, Nikodemus truly did resent and hate men. It was mostly due to their warring and their division into tribes that had gotten the world where it was. Women had only continued on in that tradition.

There were certain things he resented even more about women, but he didn't allow himself to think of them, because he was surrounded by them and they could kill them if he misspoke about them.

Nikodemus chatted with Elizabeth, Annie, and Lily for a bit longer, and they marched ahead for a few more minutes before, finally, Ellia had come to a halt and announce. “It’s a good time to rest for the night. Let’s pitch the tents.”

Nikodemus heaved a sigh of relief and helped the women set up their tents. Since they all knew he had telekinesis, he used his mind rather than his muscles to help progress along. He grabbed the tarp with his mind and laid it out in what he considered to be the “nicest” spot he could find, then assisted in laying out the body of the tent. After he had set up his own, he helped the rest of the women until he was too exhausted, and then retreated inside his own tent for his bedtime. He stretched out his legs inside, enjoying a moment to himself as he heard a hot wind blowing outside.

He had a moment to appreciate just how dry his skin felt, and how much sand was sticking to his skin as he stared forward blankly, smacking his lips. His skin felt raw and flaky, and he was sure it would have an ugly, pink sheen the next day.

I wish my skin weren’t so pale. I don’t tan, I pink.

He fell to his knees and closed his eyes in a moment, reaching his mind and his heart out towards god. Dear God… please protect this tribe. Please, please hear my prayer and grant us children. Help me fix the XY problem, and please… look after Ellia in particular.

His eyes were glassy from his prayer as he collapsed on his side and laid his heavy head on top of his pillow. He hoped God would hear him. He had spent every day of his life praying for sons, but God had never answered his prayer. At times, it shook his faith to such a degree that it caused him physical and mental distress and even made him ill once. It felt like God had answered all of his prayers but the most important one. He had prayed for a long life, and God had granted it, considering most men in the Wasteland only lived for thirty years before they had all died. He had prayed for good health, and achieved it, and he had even prayed for a cold winter once, and it had happened.

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Why won’t God grant me the one miracle I need? He thought to himself, eyes glassy as he lay in the dark. He wracked his brain for the reason, and the only one he had come up with was that he had not earned the right to raise a male child. Even more so than a baby girl, he would have to model what being a man meant to the child, and he was hardly a beacon of manliness. He was short, weak, and even mentally he was hardly the strongest man—even when other men existed. I am unworthy. I have to make myself worthy, and then, perhaps… I will be blessed. Nikodemus thought of Ellia, and how she was the one woman he seemed to have genuine affection for. I have to make sure I stay in love with her. I swear, it might be the key to having a male child. God won’t bless us because there is no longer love between men and women, and only a desire to keep the race alive.

As if God could hear his thoughts, he heard a hard voice outside his tent. “Nikodemus, are you awake in there?” Ellia asked.

Nikodemus found his desire to be near her to be crushingly overwhelming, even though he was furious at her for her poor decisions of late. He cleared his throat, sitting up, “I am. Come on in.”

Ellia turned on the lantern in his tent and sat down next to him. She wouldn’t look him in the eye for a moment. Nikodemus looked at her worldly face with a mixture of desire and anger. Eventually, she said, “You’ve gotten Elizabeth and Annie pregnant, by the way.”

Nikodemus felt nothing at the news because he felt nothing for Elizabeth and Annie other than friendship. He was so unimpressed that he yawned. Ellia regaled him with a smile, shaking her head. “Shouldn’t you be beaming at the good news?”

He shrugged. “Lost its effect on me long ago.”

Ellia laughed a little at that, and at her laughter, he found that any distaste he had towards her was being smoothed over. She didn’t have silver laughter, but there was a sort of deep, heartiness to it that made it feel comforting and loving. It was quite different from his own mother’s giggling, which could either make him feel like he was ascending to heaven, or being dragged to hell.

“Nikodemus.” Ellia said more sternly. “I need you to stop questioning me in front of my army. If you have grievances with me, you must take them up with me in the dark like this.”

Nikodemus crossed his arms, the sour taste toward her reforming in his mouth. “It’s hard to do when I feel like your decisions have been so poor at this point that I feel your leadership should be called into question.”

Ellia went silent. He was expecting her to bark at him like an unruly dog like she tended to when he called her leadership into question, but instead, she looked like she was swallowing tears. She cleared her throat—clearing away oncoming tears as she did so—and then said with a clear voice, “Nikodemus, I’m sick and tired of all this. Just as sick as you are, if not more. I’m tired of just scraping by, having barely anything to eat at the end of the day, and always having to do something that ruins my day. Whether it’s having to sacrifice one of my women to the Zironists, having so many tasks to do that I go to sleep with a migraine, or worrying myself away into oblivion that the human race will die any day now, and we will have made no mark upon this world.”