Imdi, the little boy.
Date [standardised human time]: September 2nd, 2123
(13 years and one day before the invasion of the radji Cradle).
The flames roared hot and angry beyond the door.
“Oryn!” Imdi called out. “Oryn, wake up!” The champion said nothing, the blood running down his head as thick and black as pitch in the darkness. Imdi coughed into his paw at the smoke in the air, soot smudging across his face. It was like a nightmare, the terror those animals must have faced in the Brackwood racing through him. The whole building seemed to shake and groan around them; this little storage cupboard with its rickety old shelves of old paints would provide little shelter. There was no way out save the door and the fires beyond. He cried out for help again. Again, there was no answer save the fires, the snapping, roaring fires. But the room was quiet, the last breath of a damned oasis. Silence, silence in the centre of an inferno.
The others would have made it out by then unless they had met the same fate as the champion. People would have called for help by now, surely.
How’d this happen?! he wondered. What had started all of this? What was in that locker?
~*~
“You alright?”
“Huh?” Imdi glanced at Erryt across the table, a knowing look in the other’s eye. The boy had a way of turning his twisted snout such that a smirk stretched almost into a leer.
“Off in the woods?” he asked.
“Something like that,” Imdi grumbled. It was suppertime, and all the cohort had gathered in the great hall. The rafters rang with the scraping of plates, Imdi pushing his spoon idly around his bowl. He really did not feel like eating. Yotun had been grounded. Baba and Mama had dragged him back home to find his parents waiting. They had seemed more… more worried than angry, although Imdi had let the adults recount their night—Ki-yu noticeably absent from the story.
The pyq herself had been on best behaviour following their little escapade, although she seemed a little morose and withdrawn. The encounter with the naurets had shaken all of them, not least of all her. Imdi’s stomach had lurched at the way Damar had loomed over his costumed sister, a pang of shame gripping him again. It had been far too close. His gaze lingered on where Irimya sat with long, folded limbs, listening to the gaggle and chatter of her table. What would she have thought had she reached out and pulled back Ki-yu’s mask? The nauret’s wide eyes locked with his for a moment. Imdi looked away.
Instead, he glanced over to the teachers’ table beneath the dais. The headmaster sat in the central seat, the onyx face of the goddess Kay-ut looming over his shoulder as if peeking at his meal. Oryn’s seat at the far right was empty. Imdi felt a cold sense of dread whenever he saw the man, but his absence was odd; usually the staff all ate with the students. He quietly cursed Rylett again, the woman sitting to Irt’s far left, resting her head on her paw, picking at her food. If only she had searched the man’s locker…
Priest Harbeck sat at Irt’s right hand, the pale old headmaster wearing the polite and attentive expression of one who was not really listening. Harbeck was a thin, sallow man, who’s bulging eyes and wide set teeth affixed him with a slightly maddened expression. The sandy, tangled fur of his forearms hung like dry sheets of moss from crooked branches.
“I say, headmaster,” the wizened man said, “fun and games are all very good, but the harvest should have remained a modest affair. A few parlour tricks, some music to get the crowd merry, and then off to an early supper.” His senatorial, booming voice cut through the chatter of the hall. Irt may not have been listening, but everyone else could hear.
“There’s always time for gaiety,” Irt replied, sipping his soup. “Besides, you stayed in with a nice book I’d say.”
“Glad I did, to hear of the night,” the other man said, tearing a loaf of bread in his paws and passing a piece to the headmaster. “Far too much drinking for my liking. And what’s this rumour of a… a dancing human?” The mild chatter died quickly, not that Harbeck noticed. The story of the dancing predator had spread through the school like wildfire, a blurry recording even making the rounds on the DataNet. He was not sure what a ‘human’ was, but it was one of several rumours and mistruths on the rise.
Irt seemed to find great interest in the content of his spoon.
“It was a pyq, actually,” he said mildly. Imdi felt a flush creep up his neck.
“Hrn.” Harbeck leaned against the table. “Perhaps we should look–”
“I’ve already dealt with that Harbeck,” Rylett said smoothly. “No need to discuss it here.”
“Hear he’s her favourite.” The whisper carried like only whispers can, the flush burning at Imdi’s neck. “Special lessons and the like.” Low snickering travelled from Irimya’s table, the coarse muttering of the twins Nyrra and Lollyn. Rylett was putting up a good farse of not being able to hear them, but Imdi could not bear it. He stood, leaving his bowl on the table.
“Where’re you going?” Erryt asked. Imdi just shrugged. It was quiet as he walked out of the hall, but he could feel many eyes upon him. He would have preferred jeers.
The corridor was empty at this time of day which was something of a blessing. Whilst it was nice to escape the summer warmth, Imdi often found himself longing for the wide-open space of the forest. The warm dusk air settling into the building failed to push out the light mustiness that came with so many in so narrow a place. It’d be worse for Ku, he mused. She always spoke of smell with such colour, but to him the hallway only stank. It was also poorly lit at this time of day before the automatic lights switched on, only adding to the claustrophobia. So Imdi noticed at once that the door to the teacher’s lounge was ajar, letting out a soft yellow light.
Some instinct drew Imdi closer. He glanced up and down the hallway, then peered through the crack. Oryn stood at his locker. Imdi felt his breath catch in his throat. The door was open, the man reaching inside, but from where Imdi stood he could not see in. Ki-yu had been so confident, so certain! Careful not to touch the door lest it creak, he peered as close as he dared.
“Imdi, what’re you doing there boy?!” Harbeck’s booming voice preceded him down the hall. Imdi jumped out of his quills.
“I-I was looking for Oryn,” he spat out.
The priest loomed over him, his eyes bulging over his long snout. “Oh? What for?” Imdi had not thought that far ahead.
“I, uh–” he spluttered. The door creaked open, Oryn leaning out. There was a notebook in his paw, a pen in the other.
“Imdi?” he said, glancing between him and the priest.
“The boy says he was looking for you, Champion,” Harbeck guffawed.
“Really? Well, come in.” Oryn turned back into the lounge, gesturing for him to follow. Imdi looked blankly up at Harbeck’s sallow face for a moment, before following Oryn in.
“I hear we have you to thank for some of the novelty in the festival,” the brindle man chuckled, moving back to his locker.
“Really?” Harbeck asked, looking between them. “So, was it your costume?” The champion placed the notebook into the still open locker. Imdi could see a small mirror on the door as he tiptoed closer. “Really lad,” Harbeck was saying, “a costume like that?”
“I, uh…” he mumbled, his focus on the locker. “I only helped. It was, uh, my cousin.” Imdi caught a glimpse of Oryn’s amber eye upon him in the mirror, the gaze making him flinch away. He heard the locker door shut.
“I didn’t know you had any cousins,” Oryn said, turning around and leaning casually against the metal. “So, what can I help you with?” Imdi stood still in the centre of the room. His mind latched onto the first thing it could.
“Bullying,” he said.
“Really?” Harbeck huffed. “Who’s been bothering you, lad?”
“Uh, Roklin.”
The priest guffawed again. “Roklin? He hasn’t been an issue since we were rid of that Motley lad.” He waggled a finger. “You see, some students are leaders and others are followers. This isn’t a bad thing. After all, a good leader can rally their cohort, inspire them, like this nauret creature.”
“Irimya,” the champion said tightly.
“Yes, that’s the one. I spoke to the mother when they first showed up. Impressive creature, always busy. This younger one will do that Roklin lad some good.”
Oryn smacked his lips deliberately. “One does hope so.”
“Especially after this nonsense in the yard with that pet of yours–”
“Priest,” the champion interjected with a practiced smile, “would you mind…” He gestured politely to the door.
“Oh, of course,” Harbeck murmured. His bulbous eyes flittered between them for a moment, then he turned and left. Imdi imagined following him out but could find no adequate excuse.
“You’ve been here longer than I,” Oryn chuckled. “Has he always been like that?”
Imdi turned back to him. “I guess.” He gestured for Imdi to sit on the couch.
“Is this still about that ruckus in the yard?” the champion asked once he had sat, taking the armchair opposite. “I thought you’d all moved past that.”
“We have,” Imdi murmured. “I don’t think he has.” Oryn tilted his head, mulling the notion over.
“Well, what’s he done now?”
“He called me a ‘twig-toucher’.” The champion said nothing, just watching him. “I asked Yotun what it meant, but he wouldn’t tell me.”
Oryn pursed his lips. “How well do you know your friends?” he asked. “I mean, is Yotun the best person to talk to about this?”
Imdi sat back a little. “Well why wouldn’t he be?”
“Yotun has difficulties,” he said matter-of-factly. “He’s sick.”
“He’s been through a lot,” the child said. The image of a shell of a boy with an arm torn to shreds sprung into his mind. Imdi screwed up his eyes for a moment; he did not want to think about that day. He met the Champion’s gaze for the first time. “The fire and everything really got to him.” Oryn stroked the pointed fur on his chin carefully.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Truth be told, it’s been on my mind too.” Amber eyes, dark as molasses. “You all used to be good friends, right?”
“Kinda,” Imdi admitted. “Roklin was a super talkative brat, and him and Motley would pick on me and my family every now and then, but we were bunkmates. That’s just what we did.”
“Can you remember when that changed?”
Imdi chewed on his lip. “…you know when,” he muttered.
“The girl.” Oryn nodded slowly. “I’ve spoken to Roklin myself about the last few years, about Yotun and yourself. He’s become quite… distressed by what happened in the forest.”
“Why’d he care?” Imdi huffed, screwing up his nose. “It’s not his home. He didn’t lose anything.”
“Well, that’s not strictly true is it? He watched his friends become consumed by their loss and lost you all in the process. Do you think that’s a fair assessment?” Imdi looked away, feeling flushed and annoyed. “I think,” Oryn continued, “that grief and anger are often bedfellows. I also think it might be possible that he’s felt left out and dejected.”
“He’s made new friends,” Imdi shrugged.
“And the first thing that happened when you all met was a big fight in the yard.” Oryn raised a paw when Imdi opened his mouth to retort. “Don’t you think that could be a symptom of what’s really going on with him?” Imdi just sat there, dumbfounded that this priest could be so taken by an idiot like Roklin. “I’ll tell you what, why don’t we try and have you two talk about this some time? Wouldn’t it be better for you two to talk through this than have it come to blows again?”
“Yeah, sure,” Imdi muttered, wishing he had just kept walking.
Oryn looked at him for a long moment. “Okay then. Just… try not to take his words to heart okay? He’s angry and lost.”
“Fine. Can I go?”
~*~
The man still had a pulse, which Imdi supposed was good; not that the boy could help him any more than he had. He couldn’t die now, he… he’s just… A part of Imdi was despairing, another bitter and resentful of the man. He had something in his locker, something connected to the forest fire! He must’ve lit that one, and probably this one too! It wasn’t his fault if that cost the man his own life, was it?
It did not matter, Imdi had to escape, but exactly how escaped him. The smoke was starting to bite at his eyes no matter how tight he clenched them. Rubbing at them only made them worse, and his voice had long since gone ragged. He had gone over the room thrice over, finding nothing he could use to block up the doorway, or call for help, or even press against the champion’s headwound. Soon anywhere would be better than here. Light had begun to lick at the base of the door, a shadow of orange light. No one was coming in time, and the two were trapped together.
~*~
Imdi threw the dormitory door shut with a huff, falling into his bed. He had not seen what Oryn had been hiding in his locker, and the conversation had just left Imdi strangely… angry. The champion clearly could not be trusted. He cared more about Roklin’s feelings than what he had said. Not to mention the man had stood by and let Yotun get arrested, and then tried to keep him in that terrible facility! He turned onto his side, trying fitfully to keep it from his mind for long enough for sleep to take him. It did not work.
A part of Imdi was grateful for the company when the door creaked open, even if he remained where he lay. He did not need to look; Marlo—Motley—had graduated the previous year, and Roklin had swapped dorms earlier in the semester, so that would leave just the two of them alone more often than not.
“You’ve gone to bed early,” Erryt commented. “You alright?”
“I’m fine,” Imdi told the alcove above him.
“Really? Cause you hardly ate your dinner and– oh Goddess above, I sound like my bloody Dad!” Imdi did not laugh, he really did not feel like it. Erryt sauntered over to his own bedding. “Look, I’m here if you want to talk about it.”
Imdi felt tired and worried. He frowned. “What’d it mean if someone called you a ‘twig-toucher’?”
“Nothing good,” Erryt said out of one side of his lopsided face. “Who called you that?”
“Roklin. Must’ve misliked our costumes.”
“This the whole ‘human’ thing everyone’s talking about?”
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“It wasn’t a human,” Imdi sighed. “I don’t even know what that is.”
Erryt fell heavily into his own bunk. “I think they were these big, hairy apefolk that died out a while ago. Scary predators or something.” He chewed on his lip for a moment. “Roklin… That kid’s been such an ass lately. He never used to be like that.”
“No,” Imdi mumbled. “I just… can’t wait to be out of here.”
“I know the feeling. My sister starts next year, wish I could get out before the little brat gets here. Mum and Dad’s golden girl. Can you imagine having your sibling around here all the time?”
“I literally cannot.”
“Right,” Erryt sighed. “Must be nice being an only child.”
“I’m not.” He said it so calmly.
“Really? You a big brother now?”
“No,” he said. “No, she’s older. She’s got social issues, so she stays at home.” Why do I trust him? Why does this feel so… safe?
“Wait… it was her in that costume wasn’t it?”
Imdi nodded, sniggering to himself. “You should have seen her. It was… good to get her out of the woods.” The memory of Damar’s rage ran through him again. He sat up in his bunk. “Y-you won’t tell anyone will you? Mama and Baba would worry.”
“Not a word,” Erryt said. “I promise.” Imdi believed him. It was nice to talk about her.
“We’ve uh… been reading this story,” Imdi said.
The other boy rolled onto his side, the light catching in his eyes as he watched him. “What’s it about?”
“It’s rather long.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Erryt said with his candid smile.
“Well… there’s this king, Merros, who lives in a forest. He has all these big red trees, one’s that everyone uses, one’s everyone loves. He’s called the ‘Merry King’, as he’s always happy, and everyone loves him. One day this stranger shows up and shows him a book of all the leaves of all the other trees in the world. One of them is this really special tree; it makes this wax that makes everything look all shiny and new. The king demands that he has some for his forest and sends the stranger away with the promise that he’ll give him anything in return for these new trees.
“Merros waits for many years, but still all the leaves in this book smell fresh. When the stranger eventually does return with a full packet of seeds, the king is surprised to see that they look exactly the same, whilst he is now old and grey. All the stranger asks for in return are some seeds and leaves of the king’s red trees to add to his book. The king thinks that it’s a very easy deal and agrees. The stranger leaves, and the king sets about planting the wax trees. It takes years to grow these trees, but the king becomes convinced that the wax will stop his aging, that he will become as perfect as the leaves in the book, and as ageless as the stranger.”
Erryt smirked sardonically at him. “This isn’t a happy story is it?”
“Let me finish! He plants grove upon grove of the wax trees, ordering his own forest be cut back. His people begin to leave because they liked the red trees. They kept them hidden and safe, and warm in the winter. But the king doesn’t care, he just wanted his new trees. At long last he has his first cup of wax, and…” Imdi mimed drinking a cup with big, noisy gulps.
“And?” Erryt asked. Imdi held up his paws.
“Guy turns to wood.”
The dark boy shuddered. “Woah. That’s a twist.”
“The stranger comes back and adds the red tree’s leaf to his book, leaving the merry king in his wooden hall.”
Erryt blinked at him. “That’s it?”
“Yup.”
“Huh. Kinda grim.”
“Not every story gets a happy ending,” Imdi said.
“But some of them deserve one,” Erryt replied. Imdi lay flat on his back, supposing that was true. He curled up beneath the blankets, wishing he could stay there forever.
~*~
Imdi walked through an empty hallway of pale white stone. He walked and walked, the passage seeming to stretch away forever. Despite there being no windows or lights, he found that he could see. The walls were barren and featureless, the same cool slab beneath his feet. They adjoined no ceiling, ascending into some darkened space high above. He paused as the tunnel broke off into a passage to his right that terminated a short distance within. At this apex was a door made of polished red wood, with an ornate brass handle carved in the likeness of two linked paws. Imdi turned the handle, the door creaking inward.
Within was a sunlit space, the bright blue sky pressing down a greenscape of rolling fields adjoining a bay, seaward winds breathing like the heart of the Cradle itself. Smoke rose from little huts half buried beside a pair of mighty rivers, the cry of something with wings whistling a melody high above. It was a perfect place, divine.
Imdi heard the door click shut behind him.
Imdi walked alone through an empty passage of greying marble stone. The void above stretched up and away from sight, beyond the reach of light. He came to the intersection and looked at the door. The wood was old and chipped, the lustre a sombre umber. Pressed brass fittings latched the frame together. Imdi reached out for the solid iron handle but found that the door had grown heavy. Putting his shoulder into it, he heaved the door open.
Within was a world at sundown. Reddish light carrying across still water clashed with the long shadows it cast. Ki-ra hung silently above, lit in the orange tones of her mother’s fading pyre. The boy stood on the edge of a great pit, steps of stone reaching down to a stage within. Cloaked radji stood around a crooked steel cage dangling over a great bonfire. Inside, a massive shaggy ape gripped the bars of its confine, black fur shining in the red light. It bared its yellow fangs, each as long as knives.
There was a gust of hot air and the door slammed shut behind him.
Imdi ran down a derelict corridor, the walls crumbling to show the dark abyss beyond its walls. He felt warm and breathless, his stomach was in knots. The path beyond the intersection fell away into nothingness. He turned toward the door, finding it blown partly off its hinges, a soft pale orange glow passing through the gaps. The red wood had long rotted away, replaced by metal that was starting to rust. It sputtered and groaned as he dragged it open.
Within was a world on fire. Black clouds swirled high above a toppled city, sparks of scattered lightning flashing off of shattered glass and crumpled metal. Some places had turned to ash, splotches of atomised suburbs spattered here and there as if cast off from a careless godlings paintbrush. And everywhere fires raged in bright orange, the endless, seething fires. One could have thought it day were it not for the face of Ki-ra nestled in the faint roving stars above. The smell of smoke reached him, as real as anything. How could stone and metal and home burn?
And then Imdi was wide awake. There was smoke in the room.
“Erryt!” he cried out. “Erryt?!” His feet were tangled in his blankets, Imdi half falling out of his bed. The other boy picked him up.
“Fire!” Erryt panted, wide-eyed. “C’mon!”
The pair threw open the door to their dorm to find pandemonium. Thick smoke billowing up the ceiling, some boys either exiting their rooms groggily, others charging up and down the hall at a sprint. To their left, at the deepest point of the dorms, smoke billowed out of one room, hands of flame snatched at the wooden doorframe. A few boys were tossing the contents of flasks at the fire to no avail; the entire room had to be alight. Realising the fight was hopeless the panic raced up the hall as fast as feet could admit it. The two boys were swept up in the back of that tide.
A whinnying voice carried down the hall. “This way, c’mon!” Irimya snorted, ushering the boys out. She stomped restlessly at the sight of them. “You two the last?!”
“I-I dunno!” Erryt panted. “What’re you doing here?!”
“Orr-Oryn sent me to get the boys out,” she stammered. The alien’s eyes were white with a feral terror. “H-have you seen Urèd or Roklin?!”
“They could have gotten out already!” Erryt said.
“I can’t find them!” she repeated. Imdi glanced back down the hall. The fire was pushing out of the doorway, snatching for the wooden crossbeams of the ceiling.
“We need to find them!” Imdi squeaked. “They could be hurt, or–” A door burst open from the bowels of the dorms, a massive young man staggering along the wall. Urèd! Imdi ran to him without thinking, Erryt cursing under his breath but followed him back in anyway. The fire had reached out of the doorway, sinking claws into the floorboards, into the ceiling. Hot teeth snapped at them.
“Urèd!” Imdi called to the cringing giant. “Urèd, c’mon!”
“C-can’t see…” he coughed. “My eyes–!”
“Keep to the wall!” Imdi yelled. “Come to my voice.”
Erryt grabbed Imdi’s shoulder. “This way, c’mon!” Urèd inched closer, reaching out a shaking paw. Imdi cringed from the embers flying about them, but stretched out as far as his little arms would allow. The boy was just beyond his reach–
A firm grip yanked Imdi back, Oryn pulling Urèd to them. The champion looked a lot worse for wear than a few hours ago. Soot clung to his brindle coat, smeared across his chest and forearms. “We need to leave!” he snarled looking up at the flames above them. “The fire’s gotten to the woodwork, the whole structure’s at risk! Erryt, help me!”
“R-roklin…” Urèd said weakly as the other boy helped lift him.
“We can’t find him!” Imdi squeaked, coughing at the smoke in the air.
“I got him out already!” Oryn yelled back. They slowly staggered toward where the frantic nauret still waited. “The whole school’s being evacuated, Rylett’s getting the girls out–“ he was saying as they neared the top, when there was a sharp cracking above them. Imdi knew it at once; he had heard it too often in the forest. Oryn inhaled sharply.
“Move!” he yelled, throwing Urèd and Erryt forward. There was a groaning like a falling tree, and part of a flaming crossbeam dropped right across the champion. Debris and earth came tumbling down the opening, Imdi almost being thrown backward. Coughing at the upflung dust, he struggled forward.
“Or-Oryn?!”
The champion lay face down in the dirt, a piece of wood the size of a small chair still smouldering across his back. Imdi went to shift it, then cried out when he burnt his paws. There was movement on the other side of the debris.
“Imdi?!” Erryt’s voice. “A-are you alright?!”
“Th-they’re dead!” he heard Irimya cough.
“Oryn’s hurt!” Imdi called out. “Go! Get Urèd out!”
“We can’t–!” Erryt began.
“Go!” Imdi insisted, picking up a cooler piece of wood. ”Get help!”
Imdi knocked away the burning wood, rolling the man onto his back. His eyes were shut, his body limp. No time to think about that; the fire had made it out into the hall entire now. He had to seek shelter. Oryn was so much bigger than Imdi that he would never be able to carry him, so instead he looped his arms under the man’s armpits slowly shuffling him across the ground to the nearest door. It took him precious time to move the few strides it would have taken alone, the fire pacing, sauntering this way and that across the hallway. He tried not to look at it.
Straining at the ache in his back, every breath burning fresh smoke in his nose, the boy hacking as it touched the back of his throat. He finally threw open the door, finding it to be a mostly empty storage cupboard. But it was cool, and the air was clear for the moment. He dragged the unconscious man deeper into the room, pushing him as far back as he could. He slammed the door shut to cut off the smoke, sinking to the floor with his knees tucked up. Something new rattled in his chest.
“Or-yn– hck, ha-ck…” He did not respond. Thick blue blood was running down the side of the man’s head, a number of his bristles singed and crushed. Imdi sat and waited for help as the fire dragged itself up the hall.
~*~
Imdi had decided that he could not stay where he was. Wisps of smoke were leaking through the frame, like heated breaths from the monster at the door. The champion still had not woken and was too big for him to drag all the way out of the school. All Imdi had were questions. How long had it been? Had the others made it out already? Had they made it out at all? Why would Oryn try to save them if he had lit the fire? That didn’t make sense! Imdi covered his eyes from the world, confused and scared.
Ku would know what to do! She’d be strong, find some way out! But me?! I’m a weak, stupid boy, who’d suffer like those things in the forest, like Callio! Would he be wrapped in a sheet like she had and laid to rest in the dirt of that old hill? It did not seem fair to lose his life in such a place, scared and alone with an unconscious man.
Mama… he had whispered, so long ago. I’m scared. I don’t wanna be scared. I wanna be fearless, like you. He felt her draw him close.
That fear can make you strong and brave if you let it push you.
“What c-can I do?” he whispered hoarsely in the darkness. “I’m not like her… I’ve got nothing but my paws and the dirt!”
Even Ku feels afraid sometimes, she said. Try. Try, and be brave.
The boy sat up. Ki-yu was at home in the forest, sprinting through the trees. She was cunning, and crafty. This room had nothing but the dirt and his paws, Ki-yu could never dig her way out of a room like this. But… he was radji. Their strength was in the dirt. Imdi decided to try.
The back of the closet Oryn lay against would not do—that would only lead into more dirt—, and the direction to the left of the door would take him deeper into the fire. That left just one option. He picked a part of the remaining wall and started digging.
The hardest part was the plaster of the wall that did not yield easily to his claws, preferring instead to chalk and crumble in small patches. Slowly he chipped out a hole large enough for his tiny body to reach the dirt. The soil had become hard-packed, sealed in, but once pierced could be torn down with enough effort. One pawful had become another, then another, each one slightly easier than the last.
At first he dug outward, tunnelling as quickly as he could. But the overburden just fell down onto him, and he had to work twice as hard. With an angry, desperate bark he realised that the dorm was on an incline; he needed to dig out and up! Frantically he pulled back and started again. The room was slowly filling with smoke.
Just take your time, Baba whispered. There’s no rush.
“In and out,” he muttered. “F-find your pace.” The first breath rattled. The second was shaky. But the third was still, the deep rhythm of windwork his father had taught him. Imdi started digging up.
At last, his paw breached through. He pulled back the dirt frantically, making the whole as large as he dared. Imdi put one arm through, then his head, wriggling as best he could. It was tight, pushing against his ribs, but he dare not make the hole any larger. Smoke met him on the other side, hanging throughout a small classroom. Panting, coughing, he crawled to the door. He tried to push it open but found that it would not budge more than a finger’s breadth. Imdi stood and threw his shoulder into it, squealing at the sharp pain that lanced up his arm, but the door gave way to a roar of sparks and ash beyond.
The entrance to the dorms was a burning pile of wood and dirt putting out enough smoke that he had stumbled into a choking haze. Imdi staggered away from it, trying to find his way down the hall in the din. The smoke slashed at his eyes, his sight blurring into tears and pain. He reached toward the wall to steady himself only to find it was not there, instead stumbling into furniture. He had become turned around. He must have fallen into a classroom; the same as before he could not tell. Clumps of ash danced across his burning vision, he could not find the door again. A great weight squeezed the little life left in his lungs, he could not breath. His eyes stung, the heat… the heat was overwhelming, the smoke was all around him–!
There was a window! It was small, barely above ground, but it was just within reach if he climbed up to it. The smoke was so thick it was a fog. He probed about desperately finding nothing in the mist. His paw brushed against a chair, the boy snatching it up. He fell upon the wall beneath the light, the opening, the way out. Imdi clambered onto the chair, the boy fumbling with the latch. The window pushed out, Imdi pulling himself up. The chair was knocked away as he hauled himself up and through with the last of his strength.
And then he was free, gasping as he dragged himself across the damp grass. Moisture; blessed dew. There were flashing lights in his eyes, a loud thundering in his ears. He gasped then coughed, gasped then retched. The smoggy night air that flooded his lungs felt cool and fresh.
“There!” he heard someone shout. In moments there were paws over him, but he did not care. He was lifted off the ground, a blur of lights and shapes he did not deign to recognise.
“I-Imdi!” Erryt’s twisted face appeared above him. Why was he crying? Someone gently pushed the boy away, a man he did not know.
“This’ll be cold lad,” he said. “Close your eyes.” Imdi was splashed with water, to wash away the ash and douse any embers that may have settled in his fur. A towel was thrust upon him, the moment of alertness slipping to fatigue. The man sat beside him, Imdi greedily accepting the glass of water he was offered. The man—a nurse he supposed—put a stethoscope to his chest as he drank.
“Did you see anyone else left inside?” he asked gently. Oryn. His weary mind wrestled with the concept. It was in his locker… Ki-yu smelt it on him…
Smoke rose high into the starry dusk.
“Ch-champion …” he wheezed. “Closet…” A mask was placed over his face, supplying him with a steady flow of fresh air. Steadily, night took him.
~*~
Long hoses smothered the blackened twisted structure. It was a good thing that the fire was not lit later at night when more students would have been caught abed. Fire wardens still worked through the rubble. While the rest of the school had been saved, the boys dormitories had been gutted. The school would have to be closed for a while.
A small triage station had been erected beside the school’s gate, a thin-walled tent to keep wind and eyes off of the nurses and fire wardens as they worked. Imdi waited for his parents there on the edge of the chaos with a blanket over his shoulders, watching the responders come and go. Imdi was one of just a few people to have been caught in the fire. His eyes had stopped stinging, resigned to a mild ache, and his cough had reduced to a rattle when he breathed. Erryt had only left his side when his parents had dragged him away. Damar’s security had snatched Irimya away before the crowd of onlookers and reporters could get to her, the foal yammering, shaking on spindle legs. Urèd, meanwhile, had seemed quiet and confused, as if unsure of what was happening when a nurse calmly led him away.
Roklin sat on a stretcher on the other side of the tent. Oryn had said he had gotten him out, and Imdi saw why. The boy was soot black head to toe, the fur of his paws and forearms burned away to show the baked skin beneath, but he was not crying. In fact, he barely showed any sign of discomfort at all. Imdi wandered over to his stretcher.
“H-how’re you feeling?” he asked him, his voice croaky and raw.
Roklin’s head turned to him before his eyes became unstuck from the still smouldering structure outside. “What?” the boy coughed.
“I… I asked how you’re feeling,” Imdi stammered. The boy just stared at him. There was something in the golden brightness of Roklin’s eyes he did not like. Imdi glanced away sheepishly, moving to retreat. “I’m just being friendly, I–“
“You’re not my friend,” he said, so soft and sickly sweet. “You never were.” Imdi whimpered, tired and hurt. He padded out into the night air, wondering what he had done. He passed a nurse coming the other way.
“You doin’ okay lad?” the big man asked. Imdi shook his head and carried on. What was wrong with him? Why was he so mean?! The boy trudged across the darkened schoolyard, winding though parked vehicles belonging to responders, parents, and staff. He wished Erryt had not left already, he would know what to say. Or Ki-yu, she would do something clever. I want to go home…
“Imdi…” someone groaned. He turned to see the open back of an ambulance, Champion Oryn laying on a stretcher within.
“Oryn…” he gasped, stopping at the door. “Th-they got you out.”
“Thanks to you I hear,” he grunted. “Good job kid.” Now praise, Imdi thought. It did not sit right with him. Oryn squinted at Imdi, then beckoned him closer. “Can I ask you a favour lad?” Imdi nodded slowly, sitting in the seat by his side. “I think I owe Yotun an apology,” the man sighed raggedly. “I… misjudged him. The boy still has demons, and he needs to seek help. But I’ve not been helping him as I should. I’ve let him down. Would you tell him that?”
Imdi blinked at him, unsure of what to say, so he just nodded.
“What’s the matter lad?” Oryn asked.
Imdi swallowed in a dry mouth. “I… I think I misjudged you too.”
“Oh?”
“You tried to save us,” Imdi said. “You reached Urèd, got Roklin out. I just got lucky.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” the champion said, tilting his head forward. “You did save me, and yourself, so I hear it. But… you shouldn’t have had to do that, any of that. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have confronted him like that… that poor boy…”
“Confronted…?” Imdi started. It all fell into place at once, falling like an avalanche. Imdi rose with slow certainty, his legs bringing him out the back of the vehicle in time to see a small boy being marched by a guard in black protective gear toward a waiting vehicle, dark and featureless. The man put his paw over the boy’s head as he sat him in the backseat. At the last, Roklin met Imdi’s gaze for just a moment, just one. They spoke an insult.
Imdi sat down on the ambulances steps as the hovercar shot up into the sky.
“Where’ll they take him?” he called weakly over his shoulder.
Oryn sighed, then coughed. “Nowhere good.”
---
I sit beside the fire and think
Of all that I have seen
Of meadow flowers and butterflies
In summers that have been
Of yellow leaves and gossamer
In autumns that there were
With morning mist and silver sun
And wind upon my hair
I sit beside the fire and think
Of how the world will be
When winter comes without a spring
That I shall ever see
For still there are so many things
That I have never seen
In every wood in every spring
There is a different green
I sit beside the fire and think
Of people long ago
And people that will see a world
That I shall never know
But all the while I sit and think
Of times there were before
I listen for returning feet
And voices at the door
– J.R.R. Tolkien.