ZHANNA

775DY

Sundas, 32nd of Anovo, Spring

It had been six days of hard marching since she received her whipping. Her back still stung whenever she stretched or put clothes on, but Emir had made a salve from some blue-leaf that was helpful. He said they use it as seasoning at home, but she tried it, which tasted disgusting. Emir says that catfolk have different tastebuds to men, and he could barely stomach the rations they were given – though it wasn’t much better for Zhanna. She tried to count how long she had been on the road in total, must have been more than 5 weeks by now, they had picked up more slaves as they went, and this was the first time she had bothered to make friends. The Doran said they were almost out of the Hinterlands, and about halfway to the capital.

One of the soldiers had scouted forward, spying a village a few miles ahead. They made it there before sundown and camped outside. A few of the Dorans went in to trade for food and water, more materials, and to get someone to fix the wagons up. Emir managed to sneak off into the town to grab some goodies. As Zhanna waited at her tent, she smiled to see his feline eyes peering through the dark. He had brought back a bottle of wine and clutched it in his hands victoriously. Zhanna nearly cried out joyfully as she saw it, and she eagerly got to work uncorking it with her teeth. Emir shook his head.

“To say you were the village chief's daughter, you’re not exactly an elegant lady, are you?” He asked, smiling with sharp teeth.

“Who needs manners when you can get drunk? Help me out here.” She said, spitting bits of bitter cork out onto the grass. Emir took it in his hands, deftly sticking a long claw between the cork and shaft and slowly pushing it out with a satisfying pop. They huddled closer inside the tent as they hid from the soldiers, drinking in the smell of wine. Emir’s whiskers twitched.

“Acidic for my taste, but it will do.” He said, eyes seeming to remember some distant past of drinking finer wines with finer company. Zhanna couldn’t care less. She didn’t drink much at home, her father said it was not becoming of a lady to have more than a glass of wine, but now she felt like downing the whole thing there and then.

“With claws like that, I’m surprised you don’t just rip out guard's throats and run off. I can hold them still for you if you like.” She laughed. He shook his head, something Zhanna had noticed he often did.

“Perhaps I could take one, but not before two more spear me in the back. Escaping will be far easier once I’m in Doros.” He said, lifting the bottle to his mouth and taking his first sip.

“If you say so. I’d rather not be a wanted slave in the middle of a city infested with Dorans myself.” She said, taking the bottle and taking a first sip herself. Her throat felt heavy and warm, and a pleasant sensation tingled through her body.

“My accent is a dead giveaway; you’d have it even worse with your fur. Dorans are not kind to cat-men,” She mused. Emir shrugged. They continued to drink for a while, chattering about nothing in particular, until they got onto a more serious topic.

“Zhanna, before all this, what did you dream your life would be one day?” Emir asked, his eyes growing darker. She looked back at him, clutching the wine like it’d protect her from having to answer.

“I don’t know. I assumed I’d get married to some son of my father’s rich friends. We could travel together and have a few adventures.” Zhanna said, struggling to get the words out. Emir nodded.

“Did you want children?” He asked her. Her eyes narrowed.

“People always expected it of me. I helped care for other people’s babies. But I’m not sure.” She replied, taking another sip. “I think it would bind me. I want to see things, meet interesting people, get into some scrapes.” She said, eyes glistening as she stared off into the darkness.

“I feel the same way. It is hard to accept, to have children. You must surrender to someone you value over yourself.” Emir declared sadly. “But maybe that’s what we all need to do. Perhaps maturing is a journey out of selfishness.” He said, looking back at her. She stared at him with a strange expression.

“I confess I never thought of it that way.” She looked at the ground. The wine was starting to make her head swim, and she swayed gently as she sat. “Do you think I’m selfish?” She asked him, curling her arms around her knees after setting the wine bottle down. Emir looked at her.

“In a situation like this, selfishness is survival, Zhanna. No one could ever blame you for that.” He said. She shook her head.

“If I was less selfish… If I hadn’t been so afraid, I could have stopped them from killing my father.” She said, tears beginning to fall from her eyes. “I wanted to run, and I did, but I got caught anyway.”

“Zhanna, these were armed soldiers, you couldn’t hope to stop them.” He said, placing a furred hand on her shoulder. “Your father knows that, and where he is now, he wants you to strive forward.” Emir finished.

“My people have a place called the Nightlands. Everyone goes there eventually, and it is… like an eternal celebration.” He said, smiling, as she leaned against him. “They sing, dance, drink, make love, and tell stories of their life, while watching over their families in the visions granted by the great bonfire.” He said, his eyes lighting up with joy. Zhanna wiped her face and looked up at him.

“That sounds beautiful. I wouldn’t mind going there. Do you think my father did?” She asked him, a hint of fear in her voice.

“I think so. It matters not to our gods whether you believe in them or not. You go to the Nightlands regardless.” Emir reassured her.

“How strange. In our religion, it was all fire and fury for the non-believers. I screamed and cried when they told me about the Inferno as a child.” She said, remembering things long past.

“Did you think you’d end up there?” Emir asked.

“I was horrible to my sister as a child. I would steal from her, make fun of her, even hit her.” Zhanna said.

“It’s normal for children to fight. It is your way of bonding.” Emir declared.

“No, this was different. I was deliberately cruel. I wanted her to die.” Zhanna said, brow furrowing with self-hatred. “My mother died giving birth to Arisha. Because of her, I have almost no memory of our mother. I blamed her for all of my childhood.” She said, burying her face in her hands. “She just wanted to play with me, for me to act like a proper big sister. But all I had was hate.” She said, breathing shallowly and digging at her cheeks with her fingers. “And now, I don’t know if she’s alive or dead.”

Zhanna and Emir sat in silence for a long time. Even Emir wasn’t sure what to say. After a while, he found his courage.

“You will meet your sister again, Zhanna, in this world or the other.” He said, putting an arm around her. “You can tell her you’re sorry and that you love her, and she will forgive you. Because she loves you too.” He intoned. “Me and my brother constantly fought as children. But one day, we apologised to each other and laughed about all the ridiculous things we did. You will do the same.” He said, ruffling her red hair as he often did. She looked at the floor.

“Maybe. I don’t know. She deserves far better than me.” Zhanna said, and they fell silent again for a time. They passed the bottle between them, and it was close to empty. Zhanna wished they had more. She wanted to forget.

As they drank in silence, they heard a rustling in the grass. Emir hurried to cover up the wine bottle, fearing the approach of a soldier. But the figure coming out of the darkness was far too small for that. Zhanna looked up. Before them was a child, perhaps aged 9, standing there with a curious look. He spoke.

“Excuse me, why are ye covered in hair?” The boy asked innocently, in the strange accent of the Doran Hinterlands. Zhanna had learned Doran as she grew up, since they were close to the border, though she was a little rusty, and the accent didn't help, she'd been taught to speak it like they would in the Capital. Emir laughed at the boy's question.

“Have you never seen a catfolk before? We descend from the ancient mountain lions. We are all furry. I might ask you why you are so pink and hairless.” He said, smiling.

“I’m normal. You’re the weird one.” The boy said sheepishly. He looked at Zhanna, who had an angry expression. “Why do you have chains on your neck? Did you do something bad?” He asked.

“We are slaves,” Emir said. “Soldiers have taken us, and we will work until we die.” Emir’s eyes grew dark as he considered that fate. The boy looked confused, swaying from side to side.

“Why don’t ye run away?” He asked. Zhanna blew air out her nose, annoyed.

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“Because the soldiers will chase us and kill us.” She said. Emir raised his brow.

“Why are you out here by yourself? A boy shouldn’t be prowling around in the dark. There could be all sorts out there.” Said Emir. The boy shrugged.

“Mum shouted at me and said I wouldn’y get to eat dinner and I hadta go to bed. So I ran out, and I smelled food. Do ye have food?” He said, stepping forward. He had blue eyes and a mop of brown hair. Zhanna grew more irritated, but Emir offered him a few berries.

“Here, these may look small but fill you up quickly.” He said softly. The boy’s eyes lit up, and he took them eagerly, without saying thank you. He sat down and ate them, now practically inside the tent.

“Is it okay if I stay? Mum'll baltos me if I go back.” The boy said, his face softening with innocence. Zhanna shook her head.

“No, you can’t. He lied. We’re dangerous, and we’re in chains because we eat people. Perhaps we’ll eat you?” Zhanna snarled. The boy flinched, moving away, frightened. Emir frowned at her. “Go on, run away before we get hungry, boy, run!” Zhanna said, lurching forward. The boy gasped, tumbling backwards, getting to his feet and running off. Zhanna watched him as he disappeared into the dark, then smirked and sat back down. Emir shook his head.

“Why do that? He was a sweet boy.” He asked.

“Because he annoyed me, and if he stuck around, he’d get a collar. I’m not taking care of a stupid boy the entire way to Doros.” She said, throwing her hands up.

“Still, be gentle. Sounds like he gets enough abuse from his mother without you piling on.” Emir said, standing up. Zhanna shrugged and sighed.

"What was that word he said? Baltos?" She asked.

"Baltos, hmm, Doran for belt I think. So she hits him too, good job sending him back." Emir said, shaking his head at her.

“Sorry. Maybe I should go to bed.” She said, lifting the sheet on her bedroll and sticking her legs inside. “Do you… Do you want to stay? It’s cold tonight. There’s room.” She asked gently. Emir looked at her for a few moments, and she breathed heavily, regretting it more by the second.

“I’d like to be alone tonight. I need speak with the gods. Thank you for drinking and sharing with me, Zhanna.” Emir said, turning to walk away. Before he began to walk, he spoke a final time. “I want you to know you’re a good person. And you don’t need to push people away to hide it.” Zhanna stared after him, sadness welling in her again, and she felt alone.

Zhanna settled into her bedroll, pulling the sheets tight, shivering slightly. She thought about Emir. He was the only person capable of making her smile anymore. But there was something distant in him, too, like he only observed, and it was impossible to know him truly. He knew much more about her than she did about him. Zhanna wasn’t sure how to feel about that. As she slipped into sleep, she thought of Arisha. She dreamed, replaying all the times she was cruel to her little sister. She saw Arisha with her father in Paradise, and her looking up at them from Inferno. She tried to scream and say she was sorry, but no words came out. The fire consumed everything, and the smell of smoke choked her. Now she saw only blackness. Her mind tumbled through it, as thick as vines. But suddenly it lurched upward, dragged towards orange light.

Her eyes opened. The smoke was thick outside her tent. That smell had not been a dream. It was real. Shouts came from outside, screams and the roar of fires. Zhanna had no idea how long she was asleep. It must have been hours. She crawled out of her sheet and opened the flap of her tent. She saw a man with blue-scaled skin, the head of a lizard and long black talons. A lizardman. She had only seen one in her life. This one clutched a crude scimitar and clashed with one of the soldiers. She panicked, scrambling out of the tent and searching through the smoke.

“Emir! Where are you!?” She cried out. Buildings in the village were on fire, and some tents were too. The villagers screamed and tried to flee. A few village men had armed themselves and wrested with a some lizardmen.

Emir was nowhere to be seen. Zhanna ran through the smoke, away from the camp, trying to follow the direction of his tent. She saw two figures grappling with each other in the smoke. A lizardman, clutching a curved sword, held it high in the air. Emir struggled with him, grabbing both arms and holding the sword away. Before Emir could react, the lizard kicked him in the stomach, long talons drawing blood as he reeled to the floor. He groaned. “Zhanna, run.” Zhanna gritted her teeth. Not again, not this time.

She ran up behind the lizard man and grabbed his arm, curling the other around his neck. He was strong and muscular, and she knew he could throw her off easily. She scraped her fingers across his face and found his eyes. Her nails hadn’t been trimmed in weeks, and weren’t far from claws by now. She dug them into his eyes as hard as she could, and fluid ran out of them across her hand. The lizard screamed in pain, clutching its face and whirling wildly, trying to get Zhanna off. She went for the other eye, and the lizard dropped his sword to throw her off him. He managed it, but still, in such pain, he could only clutch his face and scream. Zhanna saw the sword on the floor. She had never used a sword before, but she didn’t give any thought to that.

She grabbed it and roared as she swung upwards, slicing the Lizard’s chest. He tried to grab the sword but failed. Zhanna had no mind for swordplay, and began to hack mindlessly at him. His arm, face, leg, and stomach, all had deep gashes open, and he wailed in pain. Zhanna kept screaming as she attacked wildly. She missed his thigh, but the swing carried through and connected with a tendon at the back of his knee, severing it. He crumpled to the floor in agony, and Zhanna struck a final blow to his neck. The lizardman gurgled as he bled out. Zhanna stood, the sword and her face and tunic covered in blood. She turned to grab Emir, bringing him to his feet.

“Emir, are you okay?” She said, touching his wound.

“I’ll live. Nothing vital, I think. Are there more?”

“I think so. I saw four or five. We need to leave now!” She exclaimed. Emir nodded. She grabbed his hand and jogged lightly. He couldn’t go fast. They slowed as they neared the edge of the camp. The rest of the village was further down the hill and had already been burned by the lizards.

“Why are they doing this? It’s insane.” She said, looking at the destruction around her.

“The Lizardmen often raid these lands, their ancestral homeland, holy to them, and they will not rest until the structures of men are gone,” Emir said.

“But these people are innocent. It isn’t their fault they live here!” She said desperately.

“It doesn’t matter. You might do the same if you suffered such atrocities as the Dorans have committed against the Lizard tribes.” Emir said. Zhanna shook her head and replied.

“I have suffered such atrocities. Well, no time for sympathy. Let’s go.” Emir nodded in agreement and trotted beside her.

As they got to the edge of the village, Zhanna looked at a pile of bodies next to a burning house. A spear had been thrust through the middle of them, like some sick totem to a vile god. Emir tried to pull her away, but she froze. Her eyes stared downward at a figure in the pile, widening in horror. The boy. The little boy with blue eyes and a mop of brown hair. His eyes open, looking unseeing up at the sky. His chest had been cleaved, and he had been thrown on the pile, and had bled out. His little hand clutched another, a woman, his mother most likely, dead too. Zhanna began to shake. Emir pulled at her again.

“Zhanna, we have to go!” He shouted. Her shoulders jerked and she burst into tears.

“It’s my fault. I made him go. If I had let him stay with us, he might be-“, Emir took her by the shoulders and shook her, his whiskers twitching.

“There’s nothing we can do for him now. We greave later. But if you think you’ve done wrong and want to correct it, you must keep living!” Emir said. Zhanna’s face was wet. He clutched at his wound, grunting. He calmed, and his eyes filled with compassion. “Zhanna, please. Come with me. This is not your fault.” He finally pulled her away as he spoke, and she yielded. They marched through the shattered remains of the village and out onto the road. The further they got from the fires, the darker it got. In the darkness, Emir looked back, seeing that no one had followed them. Zhanna said nothing, her eyes staring back at the flames, despondent.

They marched through the fields away from the village, and the screams finally disappeared behind a hill as they descended. Emir spoke quietly.

“We should keep off the roads. More Lizardmen could be nearby.” He said, and Zhanna nodded silently, now looking at the ground. He took her hand to lead her, and they made their way over more hills, eventually coming to a small thicket of trees.

“We can stay in here for now. I doubt anyone’s going this way. The next nearest village is north of here, according to the signs.” Emir said, his feline eyes glowing. Zhanna had to trust him blindly. She could barely see a thing. Emir’s eyes could see much more. They settled between the trees and sat down, exhausted. They only slept a few hours, but neither would get more anytime soon. They sat together in the dark, Emir watching the ground, Zhanna looking up at the moon in the cloudless sky. She closed her eyes and whispered.

“It should have been me.” Emir looked at her and put a hand on her shoulder.

“If you think that, then live for him. Fight for your life, and do good in the boy’s honour.” He whispered back. Zhanna opened her eyes and looked at him. She nodded, her eyes filling with determination. She vowed to strike back east, and save Arisha from whatever fate has befallen her.