Steps echoed softly along the straight, stony walls of the tunnel. Everything was quiet except for the shuffling of a few pairs of feet. The cone-shaped lamp in Zaya’s hand gave off a soft glow, barely illuminating the way ahead of them. She and her family had entered the tunnel before the sun had risen, leaving their clan in darkness and silence.
Zaya kept her eyes on the ground, using her auburn black bangs to cover her forehead. Batu walked right beside her, his eyes focused on the path ahead of them.
Her mother made up the rear, occasionally glancing behind them. When Zaya had told her about the accident a moon ago, she had been shocked. But Nergui had ultimately forgiven her. It had been an accident, after all.
A constant itch reminded Zaya of her mistake. She still remembered the scorching pain when the hot iron had been pressed against her forehead. This was it, now. She would be on the run for the rest of her life, with no place to call home. Glancing sideways, Batu’s calm strides helped calm her nerves. It had been his idea to flee through the tunnels and seek refuge within the promised lands.
Her mother had initially been against the idea, thinking it was too much of a risk. However, Batu had soon convinced her. They could either hope to hide somewhere in the promised lands, or spend their life in The Steppes, always on the run.
Never once had her parents considered leaving her behind.
In The Steppes, your tribe was everything. It was your family and your home. In The Steppes there were no orphans. Only eight tribes, eight huge families. When one’s parents died, others would take the child in without question.
But Zaya was different. The symbol on her forehead made that very clear.
Narrow eyes shone with determination as Zaya walked alongside her father. She would ensure her family found a new home in the promised lands, somewhere in the south. It was the least she could do, after everything they had done for her.
Finding a place in the south would not be easy, however. The war between the Restless and the Ceraviehlians had most likely already begun, and a renegade within the promised lands would be as well received as an adder in one’s sheets. Zaya forcibly lowered her arm to not touch her forehead. She once more thanked Ilugei for sparing her life instead of executing her, after the accident.
Other Restless would not be able to see it in the dark tunnel, but the brand was clearly visible in daylight. Symbolizing a snake that ate its own tail, the brand consisted of two interlocking ovals that flowed seamlessly into one another and met in the middle. Doomed to wander endlessly, and never find peace. That was her brand.
On and on, the small family continued their journey through the mountain. Nothing could hope to break the oppressive silence. After a long while, Batu abruptly stopped. He peered into the tunnel ahead of them.
“Nergui, get in front. Zaya, stay behind us and keep your head down.”
Way ahead of them, the tunnel seemed to lighten up. They couldn’t possibly have reached the end of it already. And that could only mean one thing.
The small family slowed their jog to a casual walk. The dim light ahead of them became stronger with each step. Faint echoes of other Restless talking soon bounced off the tunnel’s walls.
“Can you believe it, Namaku? What do you think they will look like? I once heard the grain grows as large as trees in some parts,” a voice said with wonder.
“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear. Such a thing is not possible, even for the promised lands.”
Batu was the first to emerge from the tunnel. It opened up into a small cave, just large enough for a handful of people to rest in. In the end, the cave split into two separate tunnels. Little carvings above each tunnel depicted their destination. The voices the family heard earlier belonged to a man and woman. Both sat on the right side of the cave floor. They stood up upon seeing the family enter, putting two fingers on their forehead.
“May your steps be sure, children of the Naija” the woman greeted them.
“And the path ahead of you clear, children of the Bayad,” Batu responded politely, putting two fingers on his forehead as well.
The woman gestured beside her, a smile on her lips.
“If you want to rest, we have food and water to share. There will be enough soon anyway, with the promised lands less than a ride away.”
Batu lowered his head in gratitude.
“Please take no offense if we decline. We need to reach the rest of our clan as soon as possible, but we thank you for your kindness.”
“No offense taken, fellow Restless,” the woman glanced at Zaya, who hid herself to the left of her father. His huge frame stood between her and the other Restless, obscuring their vision. Zaya had her head lowered the whole time, taking care to let her long black hair fall over her forehead.
Wishing the pair goodbye, Batu started to walk toward the left tunnel of the cave.
“May you come to rest.”
“And you,” they responded, sitting down and resuming their meal.
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Zaya hurried to follow Batu, her fine hair swaying with each step. For the fraction of a second, the curtain of hairs split apart. Nergui reacted immediately, taking a long step to block the sight of her daughter. They had almost made it. This was the last cave before they would reach the end of the tunnel. If the two Restless hadn’t seen anything, Zaya and her family could—
“Stop.”
The man had stood up again.
“Is something the matter?” Batu asked, turning around and spreading his arms wide. His smile was strained.
“Could I please see your daughter’s forehead for a moment? I’m afraid the light has played a trick on my eyes,” the man asked.
Zaya’s eyes went wide with dread. It had been so close.
“My friend, I’m certain there is no need for that.”
For a moment, nobody said anything. The air hung heavy in the cave, pressing down on their shoulders.
“I insist,” the man said at last.
Batu’s smile went sour. Placing himself in front of Zaya, he laid his hands on the scimitar hanging on his waist. Both groups tensed up, the woman now standing beside the man. The silence was deafening.
“Look, it does not matter to me whether your daughter is branded or not,” the man said suddenly. “But a renegade can not be allowed into the promised lands. Turn back, and we will forget this ever happened. I have no wish to fight you.”
“Neither do we,” Batu responded. “But we will not go back into the Steppes. Let us pass, and no one has to die,” he said pleadingly.
The man glowered at him, eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. “You know I can’t do that.”
A moment stretched itself to infinity. Zaya could hear her heart trying to break through her chest. The woman suddenly flicked her wrist, and a dagger shot toward Batu’s chest. There was no going back now. Protecting himself with his left arm, he pulled the scimitar out with his right. A groan of pain escaped his lips as the dagger embedded itself into his forearm.
Nergui was right beside him, her long spear a snake waiting to strike. With only a few feet of distance between them, she was the first to attack. Arm thrusting forward, her spear stabbed into the chest of the man. The man had already drawn his own scimitar, but Nergui’s strike was too fast to block. A slight turn of his shoulder barely prevented the dagger stabbing into his heart.
Retaliating in the same movement, the man swung his scimitar in an overhand arch. Batu already saw it coming though and raised his weapon to block the incoming strike. A metallic clang rang through the cave as the two weapons met. Her father was not a warrior. He could barely halt the enemy strike, and both of his hands soon started trembling.
The woman started to pull a shortsword from her side. Zaya knew that there was no way her parents would be able to react in time.
Ever so slowly, the sword left its sheath.
Zaya wielded neither spear nor sword, but that did not mean she was helpless. The stone was all around her; She was in her element. Tapping into her Inner Landscape, she connecting herself to the stones lying all around the woman. Zaya’s raised her right arm, palm facing outward. By now the sword was drawn, and the warrior moved to strike Batu with her shortsword.
Zaya closed her fist, and the stones obeyed.
Dozens of small projectiles shot at the woman. A primal scream tore through her lungs, momentarily interrupting the fight. Once more, the clanging sound of metal reverberated through the cave.
Legs too weak to support her, the woman fell to the ground. Her legs and lower body were riddled with holes. Blood seeped through her leather clothes and blanketed the cave floor. Unable to stand up again, the woman gaped at the girl standing in front of her.
With Zaya’s arm still raised and her fist clenched tightly, it was obvious from whom the sudden attack came.
“A branded Gifted? How did you avoid execution?” the woman asked, her features contorted in agony.
Zaya did not respond. Nails digging into the palm of her hand, she stared at the bleeding woman in front of her.
The remaining warrior had a hard time fending off both Batu and Nergui. Swinging wide, Batu slashed at the chest of the man. Although the strike was averted, Nergui’s thrust came too fast to dodge, hitting him in his lower throat. The man’s eyes briefly met Zaya’s. A gurgling sound came from his mouth as he fell onto the rough stone and landed in front of her. Zaya shuddered as his dying breath caressed her skin, the body finally growing still.
Within a few moments, the entirety of the cave’s floor was covered with dark blood. The momentary quiet after the fight was only broken by the groans of the woman. With countless pebbles being stuck in her legs, she wouldn’t survive a single hourglass. Hands shaking, she slowly pulled another dagger out and looked at Zaya.
“May the promised lands be your death, renegade.”
Taking the hilt of the dagger in both hands, she plunged it deep into her chest. Zaya stared at the scene in front of her, bile rising in her throat. The stench of death filled her nostrils. Puke joined the blood covering the ground as she emptied her stomach.
Hands on her knees, Zaya started to mumble to herself. Her body shook.
“I should have hidden it better, I should have hidden it better.”
“We need to leave,” said Batu. “Noise carries far in these tunnels, but we should have almost reached the other side of the mountain.”
Bending down, he cut a long piece of cloth from the fallen man. Nergui was already at his side, snatching it out of his hand. Wordlessly, she pulled the dagger out of Batu’s arm and wrapped the cloth tightly around his wound.
Zaya still stared at the woman lying on the ground, now dead. Her glaring eyes were locked on Zaya, hands still on the hilt of the dagger.
“I’m sorry,” Zaya said. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
Knees buckling, she slumped to the ground. Two strong hands reached under each of her armpits, pulling her up. Nergui on her left, Batu on her right, her parents carried her out of the cave. Dazed, all Zaya could see was the dead woman’s eyes.
Someone kept calling her name, the voice distant. A pinch on her cheek brought her back to reality. Eyes focusing, she looked at her mother. Nergui’s face was a few inches apart from her own, a slow smile on her lips.
“Good, you’re back. We almost made it, but we need to hurry. Can you walk alone?”
Nodding, Zaya took a deep breath to steady herself. Batu again took the lead, with Nergui walking beside Zaya. Finally, a dim light began to break through the perpetual darkness of the tunnel. Steps quickening, the small family continued its way toward the light.
They made it. They had reached the exit of the tunnel, and the entrance to the promised lands. Warm sunlight shone down on them as the family made their final step out of the tunnel. They stopped abruptly, blinded by the overwhelming light. For a few heartbeats, neither of them could breathe. Before them lay the promised lands, steeped in legends.
From high up in the mountains, they beheld the lush landscape spreading out below. All of it looked so small to their eyes. Trees grew almost everywhere, forming a huge forest below them. Pastures and towns dotted the verdant valleys as far as the eye could see. A cool mountain wind blew across their faces, bringing with it a richness of life that starkly contrasted the scorching winds of the Steppes.
A massive river flowed to their left, streaming down from the mountain and parting the forest. It passed a rather large city near the mountains before continuing to flow further inland, branching into other rivers on its path. For all the stories Zaya had been told, for all the legends that surrounded the promised lands of Ceraviehl, not one could do its beauty justice.
“It’s wonderful,” Zaya said, a single tear rolling down her cheek.