Chapter 6
When he joined the stars
A Tiffer soldier had come up behind Calla. Neither of us had noticed. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. I was about to call out a warning to Calla, but I was too late. The Tiffer soldier thrust at Calla's unguarded body. It was a strong and lethal hit. The thin piece of iron stabbed through his leather armour as though it were butter. The Tiffer soldier pulled the sword out of Calla, allowing the wound to bleed. And it did bleed. So much blood poured from the open wound.
Before he fell, a look of surprise crossed his face. The look of surprise was immediately followed by a look of pain. He fell to the ground. Holding his bleeding wound in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. His breath came in gasps. Blood gushed from the wound, staining the grass and his clothes a startling shade of red.
My own shock was washed away by pure anger. I cried out in anger and grief. I charged towards the Tiffer. In one long, deadly slash of my sword, his throat was cut. The tip of my thin sword was now red. He did not even have a moment to scream. Blood gushed from his neck, but he was already dead.
Before the Tiffer even hit the ground, I was at Callas side. I threw my sword to the ground. I slipped my shield off my arm. I gently cradled his head in my lap. He was sweaty and shaky. His face was pale and screwed up in pain. Blood poured from the wound. I moved my hand in an attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood just ran through my fingers. The wound was too deep. I couldn’t look at it.
Instead, I looked down at his pale face. The face I found so much solace in was now pale, colourless, and riddled with pain. No smile rested easily on his lips. All his normal joy was gone.
“Tam su feem en gi adro. Ga umu turema, turema.” You are all right, my love. I am here, here. I trailed off at the end. I knew that only part of my statement was true, and it wasn’t that he would be all right.
With a groan of pain, he gripped my hand. His grip was weak. I had given up trying to stop the bleeding. I gently stroked his soft cheek. The blood continued to come, staining everything red. My left sleeve was no longer white but red. The grass beneath him was red. My yellow pants were red.
“I will get a medic. You will survive this,” I said with no conviction. Tears ran down my face. I knew he was as good as dead. The life was leaking out of him, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
His wound wouldn’t stop bleeding. His blood leaked from the useless leather armour. There was a circle of blood all around him. The dying grass was now stained crimson with his blood. Tears flowed down my face, joining his blood.
He looked up at me. There was none of the normal joy in his eyes. But there was love. He was looking at me the same way he had looked at me after our first kiss. Pure love. Though his face held love, he spoke in a voice of pain and sorrow, “Don’t leave me. Please don’t let me die alone.”
I began to play with his hair, wrapping and unwrapping his curls around my finger. He had always done the same for me. A hint of a smile passed across his face. I smiled. I was sad, but to see him happy, even if it was a small amount of happiness, brought me more joy than I can describe.
The battle made his last words almost impossible to hear, but I was bent so close to his face that I heard every syllable: “Look for me in the stars tonight, gi adro.” My love.
His hand fell out of mine. The life left his eyes. He continued to look at me without seeing. I couldn’t bear to see his eyes, so I closed them.
“I love you. I will look for you in the stars tonight. I promise,” I kissed his forehead; it was still warm. His sweat still sat on his skin.
I gingerly wrapped my arms around his body for one last embrace. I pushed my living body against his dead body, wishing life to return to his limbs. It was stupid, but I needed him to be all right. I needed him to be alive. My breathing was ragged, catching in my throat from the tears and the fist-sized lump of grief growing in my throat.
* * *
I don’t know how long I stayed on the ground, holding Calla. I only let go when someone rested a hand on my shoulder and said, "You have to let go.”
I shook my head. They said it again, this time crouching next to me. They said, “You have to let go.”
I allowed the person to pull me free from Calla's body. I turned to look at the person whose arm was wrapped around my shoulder, the person who was leading me away from Calla. I didn’t recognise him.
“Who are you?” I managed to stutter out through the tears.
“Me-Li-Stagtum. I’m one of the medics.” I already knew that. The ‘Me’ at the beginning of his name said as much. “What is your name?” His voice was nice. The tone was pleasing.
“Fi-Rico.”
“Fi-Rico, I’m going to help you get cleaned up. Is that ok?” I didn’t understand why the medic was helping me; I was uninjured, and I’m sure there were people more in need of help than me. But I was in no mood to argue, so I allowed him to lead me away from Calla.
He led me to the medic’s tent. He sat me down on one of the cots, then hurried off to get his things. I think he told me what he was getting, but I wasn’t paying attention; I was too stuck in my mind to care. He came hurrying back with a bucket of water, a cloth, some new clothes, and his medical supplies. The last one confused me. I didn’t think I was injured, but I’m sure he had his reasons.
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I just sat there as he removed my armour, then my shirt, and using the cloth, he gently whipped away the blood from my torso. When he got to my left wrist, it hurt. I looked down at my wrist. There was an open cut there. Interesting. When did I get that? After he had finished cleaning the area, he opened his medical kit, put some cream on it, and then wrapped some bandages around my wrist.
“I didn’t know I was cut.”
“Didn’t it hurt? It is quite a deep cut.”
“I wasn’t really paying attention.”
A small node, then he finished cleaning the blood off the rest of my body. I then got dressed in the new uniform Me-Li-Stagtum had gotten me. I wish I could have changed into my own clothes. It is not like the army uniform is uncomfortable, but my clothes are better. It had been about three months since I had worn my own clothes. It has been three months since they changed the enlistment age to sixteen. Three months since I had felt safe.
Once I was finished getting dressed, I thanked Me-Li Stagtum.
“It was my pleasure. Just come back here tomorrow. I want to check on the wound; make sure it doesn’t get infected.”
I nodded to Me-Li-Stagtum, then turned to leave.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Fi-Rico.” Me-Li-Stagtum called after me.
I gave another small nod of thanks and then left before I could start crying again. Even if I had wanted to say something, I don’t think my voice would have worked. I knew it was impolite, but I wasn’t about to break down in front of him. He had already seen me at my worst, and he had seen me partially naked, so I didn’t need him to see me cry again.
I didn’t know where to go, so I just headed in the direction of my tent. I felt tears forming in my eyes as the lump in my throat that had never really gone away grew bigger. I sped up. I was almost running now.
“Rico!” I stopped to see where the voice came from.
“Rico!” Pill. It was a pill.
He came running towards me. He pulled me into his embrace and said, "Thank the stars, you’re alright. I was about to go to the medical tent to look for you and Calla. Do you know where Calla is?”
I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. When I stayed quiet, he let go of me. He looked at the tears in my eyes. The joy that had been in him only seconds before rushed out of his body.
“Is he?” He had tears in his eyes as well now. “Rico, is he?”
I nodded. Words couldn’t form. I began to sob. Pill stood there, his mouth slightly open, tears streaming down his face. We stood there for what felt like hours.
“Let’s find somewhere to sit.” Pills voice was small.
He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and without making a conscious decision, I led us to the breakfast spot. I crumpled to the ground, cradling my head in my hands.
“I watched him die. He was lying in my arms, and there was nothing I could do.” I needed to speak, and I knew Pill would listen.
He didn’t say anything. He understood what I needed better than I did. Calla had always been that person for me. The person who could calm me down. Who seemed to know me better than anyone? But he was gone, but Pill was still there, and he was an amazing friend to me.
A memory suddenly resurfaced: “Minra died. He told me to make sure he got home. "II didn’t want to hurt Pill anymore, but he had the right to know another of his close friends had died.
He didn’t say anything. But his whole body crumpled in on itself. His crying grew in intensity.
We stayed in the breakfast spot in silence until the horn blew. It signalled us to go to the central green to pay our respects to those lost in battle. This was going to be hard. I hated the idea of crying in front of the other soldiers, but the burnings were hard enough with Calla. Now I had no Calla, and I would have to watch him burn.
When we arrived at the central green, the wooden cremation beds were already set up with a single body lying on each one, wrapped in a burial shroud. The only way to tell who was who was by the small piece of wood engraved with their name. I found Calla. He was wrapped in a blue shroud to show he was a Bwânnéia. I walked towards him.
An overflowing feeling of grief washed over me. I fell to my knees. I began to cry, and despite my best efforts, I couldn’t stop. I was so lost in my own tears that I was drowning. I was disappearing under the water. My breath was catching in my throat. I couldn’t breathe properly. All I could do was rasp and pant. I wanted it to end. I wanted to die. To join calls, The tears stung as they fell.
Pill came towards me and rested his hand on my shoulder. I shrugged him off and said, "Fuck off Pill.”
He stumbled backwards. I could see tears in his brown eyes, but I didn’t care. I just wanted him to leave. I needed him to go. He left. Good.
A Bwânnéia brought the torch down onto the kindling beneath Calla's body. The fire began. His body was soon engulfed in flames. His body burned away. His blond hair. His blue eyes. His lips are smooth. I would never see any part of him again.
It took an hour and a half before the ashes could be collected. The same Bwânnéia that had lit the fire also collected the ashes. After he had swept up all the ashes, he passed me the large ceramic jar and asked, "Could you fill in all the information on the death certificate? Make sure we get him to the correct place. Add that medal to his ribbon. I should get to his parents by the summer.”
I accepted the jar and medal with a numb nod. I left the central green. I went back to the tent to get a quill and pocketknife.
I sat on the ground next to the tent. The light was fading fast, so I started with the hardest part. I used my pocketknife to carve out his name on the lid of the jar. QI: C A L L A. It wasn’t the neatest, but I tried my hardest. I then filled in the small paper card that would ensure he got home.
Ossorian Bwânnéia death certificate
Full name: Qi-Calla
Date of birth and death: Manti 21 94 - Backshi 5 110
Place of birth: Pallamin
Parents place of residence: Pallamin
Father: Qi-Lanti
Mother: Qi~Hanra
I used the light blue ribbon to tie the card onto the handle of the jar. It felt stupid, and it must have looked pretty stupid, but I kissed the jar and said, “I will see you on the stars tonight, Gi Adro.”
I gently cradled the jar in my arms before setting it on the ground with all the others. They would be taken away from the people’s families tomorrow morning. I looked back at the pot. It was the last time I ever looked at Calla.
* * *
I returned to my tent. I only noticed that I had been crying for hours when I stopped. My grief was beyond tears, or I had finally run out of tears. In a dream-like state, I began looking through Calla’s things. In a small box was his medal ribbon. It had the two medals I had. First was the rising sun medal. This medal was given at the end of your training; it represents a figurative new day for your life. Next was the star medal. The star medal was given after your first battle. It was to recognise those lost in the war and to show you your first act of service. With shaky hands, I added the last medal he would ever receive. The rising moon shows the end of the day and the beginning of the time of the dead.
Once I had pinned the moon medal to his ribbon, I placed it back in its small wooden box. I collected all his personal belongings in a small fabric bag. I then put the bag in my pack. I wanted to make sure his things wouldn’t get lost. The next belongings mail wouldn’t be until summer, and the army had a track record of losing things. I would keep his things until I knew they were on their way to the Qi family.