Life can’t get worse than this.
I don’t understand anything anymore. Why does the world have to be unfair? Why do I feel so empty? Everything is numb. I know I should be bawling, but the tears refuse to come. I want nothing more than to run to my mummy and cry into her warm embrace. I want to; I want to so much, but she is no longer there for me.
Without her I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to do anything without her. I wish to just go back to before when I could run to her warm embrace and forget the world as I sleep in her arms. But I can’t. I can’t deny her death. Not with the unquestionable funeral pyre consuming my attention.
The inferno burns brightly in contrast to the dark, sandy landscape. Wisps of flame rise high into the air above. The moon having hidden away not long past. My tribe sits in silence around the pyre, patiently waiting for the Ember Moon’s appearance. The elders of our tribe sit closest to the flame, ready to begin the ritual.
A cinder catches the wind, blown away from the pyre; it ebbs and sways unpredictably, following no predetermined path. It floats in front of me for a moment and I attempt to reach out for it. The wind, as if knowing my intention, whirls the ember out of my grasp and around my arm. Its motion; teasing, before the wisp drops to the sand below my feet. Its glow is gone as the desert consumes it.
My gaze locks on the remnant cinder. Now ash, indistinguishable from the surrounding sand. Unable to reignite. Unable to reunite with the flame it originated.
Once again, I am confronted with the fact there is no way for her to come back to me. I should be crying for her, but I can’t. What would she think if I can’t even cry for her at her funeral? She must be so disappointed in me, maybe even as much as I am in myself.
A subdued red light catches my attention from the corner of my eye. Turning slightly, I’m embarrassed to realise I’ve been so focused in my own head that I have lost control of my flame again. My hair, hanging from the side of my face, is lit in bright red fire, exposing my lack of control to everyone around. I quickly clamp down on it, returning my hair to its physical form.
I am ashamed of myself, I’m a disappointment to the tribe. I should have enough control to stop an outburst like this. I’m already nine, I should have been on top of this a year ago, but still, I fail.
The sudden touch of a hand on my shoulder startles me. Turning, I see my Uncle Rivin. His sombre expression stares down at me. Is he disappointed in me too? I can only be glad he isn’t yelling at me for losing control like he usually would.
Instead, he only nods towards the pyre and I realise I’ve been lost in thought for a while. I stand and walk towards the pyre with Uncle beside me. The Ember moon has appeared in the night sky above, its glow tinting the desert a deep red.
I glance up towards Uncle. His blue and black hair is short but is still the same colour as mine and my mum’s. The slight motion of his hair makes the blue flicker like flame, but he hasn’t lost control, that’s just how it looks. Just the same as my mum’s does.
Did.
I stop a few steps from the fire. It burns many times my height, fuelled by the ring of elders encircling the pyre. I hesitate to take the next steps, unsure how I can ever willingly say goodbye. It feels like saying goodbye for good, I don’t want her to leave.
I know she is gone. I know that in my head, but I don’t want to accept it. I don’t want to lose any more of her. I want to cling to everything I have left of her, even if it's simply her memory, and it scares me I might lose that if I accept her death.
I feel Uncle put his hand on my shoulder. “Solvei, I know it’s hard, but you need to do this. Just say whatever you wanted to say before we lost her.” He says, giving me a slight push.
As much as I don’t want to do this, I feel like not doing it would be somehow worse. No, I know avoiding it will be worse. I will regret it if I don’t say what I can the last time she might ever be able to hear it. Once she returns to the Eternal Inferno, there will be no more chances. This is the only time I have.
Settling my thoughts and gathering my courage, I take the last step through the wall of flame into the pyre. The flames are warm and they embrace me completely. At the centre of the flame, I see the remains of the timber used to ignite the ritual pyre, now barely charcoal. The flames are obviously supplied solely by the elders' efforts.
I make my way to the bed of charcoal and lower into a seated position. I let the comfortable heat of the flames nestle into me and let my body shift into flames. My form retains the same shape, but takes on the appearance and nature of the flame around me. I push my inner flame out to mix with the surrounding pyre, the flame of my elders easily willing to cede control to me.
My tongue twists and nothing comes out when I finally try to talk, too many words want to come out at once. So I try to start simply.
“Mummy, I wish you weren’t leaving. I don’t know what to do without you. I want to properly wish you on your path to the eternal inferno, but I also don’t. I don’t want to say goodbye to you yet, I already miss you too much. I’m selfish and greedy, and even though I know you’ll be in a better place, I still want to hold you back.”
I feel myself choking up. It’s a struggle to continue as involuntary sobs make their way out with my soul-baring speech.
“But, as much as I don’t want you to go, you still need to go. So, goodbye mummy, I hope Eldest Ember guides you on your journey to the eternal inferno. I will always remember you. I’ll miss you and I love you.”
It hurts so much to say my farewell. An emptiness seems to swell within me. I try to push everything I have into the surrounding fire, stirring the flames and pushing them to grow to greater heights than before. I push everything I have into the flame, hoping the hurt will go with it.
The flames spin around me and I stare up through the flames at the Ember moon through them. If I don’t get to keep my mum with me, the best I can do is hope the eldest áed can help her on her way.
I can't help the wail I let out as I burn through as much of my energy as I can, trying to push the pyre’s flame to my limit. The deep red of my flames rage and flare into the sky.
I push myself till I’m exhausted, to where the pain of my body hurts more than that of my soul.
I gather my thoughts and control my emotions like my mother always taught me, and regain my form. I pull my energy back from the flame and allow the ritual pyre to return to the elders' control.
I step out of the fire and see my uncle there waiting for me. Feeling battered and exhausted, I hug him. I know it’s over now. Mum is on her path and I’ve already let her go. I know it was the right choice and I can't turn back on that now, even if it feels so much worse than before.
I feel Uncle embrace me before lifting me up. I push my face into his shoulder, trying to hide my crying from anyone that can see.
Uncle carries me back to a spot far from the flame. He sits down with me in his arms and I feel the warmth from his inner flame encompassing me. His warmth mixes with my own flame and supports it. The Kindling process fills me with warmth and I can’t help myself but relax. It’s not as good as when mum did it, but it still feels nice.
With heavy eyes, I watch as the pyre grows, the blaze searing far higher into the sky than when I was inside. The flame is also a much brighter orange colour than the red it was before.
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The fire is much hotter than two minutes ago. I know the elders probably reduced the rank of the fire when I went in, but considering it is Auntie Kay I see in the pyre, the heat and strength of the fire are probably all her work.
I’m momentarily amazed at the show she puts on and stare in awe at the twirling fire as it reaches far into the sky above. My admiration is interrupted when I hear Uncle grumble from above me.
“Must she really show off even at a time like this? The elders are going to make her regret it later.”
I glance up at him questioningly. “Is it really so bad?” I ask.
Uncle catches my eyes and ponders my question. “No, I guess not.” He responds after a moment. I feel him rubbing my head, so I relax into the warmth of the Kindling, letting it soothe my exhaustion and smother my conflicted emotions.
❖❖❖
When I wake up, it's to the jostle of the furs beneath my chest. I look up from my laying position to see we have already packed up and begun travelling from our campsite last night. I have been laid on the wagon of furs and carpets we use to decorate our ger.
Uncle Rivin is pulling the cart ahead of me, so he must have let me sleep here. That’s kinda weird for him. He usually wouldn’t let me anywhere near the furs, what with the lacking control I have over my flame. Maybe he is feeling generous after last night?
Well, I best get off before I do make a mistake and set everything alight. It should be fine as we have ways to fireproof a lot of the stuff we have, but it’s not completely foolproof. I know better than most with how many of my own clothes I’ve burned through. Moments I really wish everyone else in the tribe would forget.
The last thing I would want is to accidentally burn through everyone’s bedding. As forgiving as most of my tribesmen are, I doubt I would get off without punishment. I probably wouldn’t be able to forgive myself either.
Landing in the sand, I enjoy the heat of the grains as I dig my toes in. For some reason, I feel much more refreshed than I have in weeks.
I quickly catch up to Uncle, greeting him amongst the quiet chatter of the rest of the clan. It is only apparent to me now how silent everyone has been since the disaster occurred. Last night’s ritual must have been more helpful to everyone than I would have thought.
I notice the same is true for me as well. Despite how painful thinking about how I will never see my mummy again, I feel like I can move forward now. It feels like the world isn’t going to end anymore.
Smiling a bit at the thought, I ask Uncle Rivin. “Hey, where are we going now?”
I know we were travelling south for a week after the tragedy with us losing so much of our family, but now that we have held their memorial ritual, I’m not sure what the plan is.
“The elders have decided we will check out an old mining site the records show is in the area. They hope to find some minerals there,” he says.
I look in the direction we are travelling and then back at the moon looming low behind us. “We’re still moving south?” I ask.
“It’s too risky to travel back the way we came when we have no knowledge of those who attacked us. We figure it would be safest to travel southwest for a time, before going north again. It’s already uncomfortably close to the coast as is.”
I’m not very interested usually in where we end up going as lots of the desert looks the same. Rocklands and mountains can sometimes be unique, but the desert is the same no matter where you are. So when Uncle mentions the mysterious coast I’ve always been told is a terrifying and horrible land of death, I can't help but be interested.
“Have you been to the coast before, Uncle? What was it like?” I ask. I’ve been told some crazy things about it, always saying how bad and scary it was. Even if I’m told it's a terrible place, I can’t help but want to see it. It sounds so different I can barely imagine it.
I guess my excitement is pretty visible because Uncle gives me a glare. “Solvei. Get that thought out of your head. We will do our utmost to avoid it at all cost and you shouldn’t be so curious about such dangerous things.”
His attention returns forward, continuing to pull the wagon as he answers my question. “I’ve been there once before, but far west from here. It differs greatly from our lands; there are many dangerous plants and animals there, but the weather is the most terrifying thing. Even if you find cover to protect yourself completely from the storms or fog, you can't do anything when the air you breathe begins cutting at your throat.” The look he gives me makes sure I know he is being serious, and I gulp at the idea.
The air itself attacking you? How is that even possible? It sounds ridiculous, but Uncle doesn’t lie, especially not things like this.
To mask that his warning only makes me even more interested, I divert the conversation. “Where is Auntie Kay? I haven’t seen her since I woke up.”
Smirking a bit, Uncle says, “She’s off hunting.”
I look around the caravan, trying to find anyone else missing. “Who went with her?” I ask.
“No one, she’s not allowed back until she brings her own weight in meat.” He says, chuckling.
I gape in shock. Everyone knows how hard it is to find creatures out here. Well, maybe not that hard, but sand-worms and jerboas would take forever to catch enough to reach her weight. The only thing I can think of she might catch is scorpions or snakes, but they are impossible to find unless you are pretty much right on top of one.
Dingoes or fennec foxes are also an option but I haven’t seen any in days, so I’m not even sure they come this far south.
Uncle Rivin just laughs at my reaction. His voice booming louder than I have heard from him in a week. Calming his humour a bit, he continues. “I said last night she would be punished. She was much too wasteful, so of course the elders are gonna give her a hard job while she’s trying to recover.”
I feel bad for Auntie, but I can’t say anything about it. I mean, I had less energy left last night than she did and I don’t want to get in trouble too. So keeping quiet seems like the best idea.
It’s not much later when Elder Cyrus approaches us. “Morning Solvei, did you sleep well?” he says.
“Yes elder. I feel very energetic today.” I answer. With Auntie Kay still on my mind, I don’t want him to think I’m still tired from last night. Who knows what kind of hard work he might make me do?
Elder Cyrus is one of the five remaining elders in the tribe. All of them would usually make decisions for the tribe together, but elder Cyrus is usually the first one to take action in emergencies.
“Has your grandfather spoken to you recently?” elder Cyrus asks.
I look at his face as he asks. I think he looks a bit hesitant to ask, but it is harder to read his emotions from his face than others.
“No, Pop hasn’t spoken to me since that day.” And it’s true, my pop has been avoiding me since mummy passed. If I didn’t have Uncle always by my side this past week, I’m sure it would have hurt more. But even so, I have always loved playing with him, so it hurts a bit that he doesn’t want to see me.
“Well, you shouldn’t worry too much, he’ll come around. He still loves you, he just needs time, I’m sure.” Elder Cyrus tries to encourage me.
“Ah!” Elder Cyrus looks directly over my head, opposing the direction of travel. “Looks like Kay was quicker than we expected. What do you think she caught?” he says to Uncle Rivin.
Both Uncle and I look back at the spot far behind us. I can barely even make it out, how does elder Cyrus know it’s Kay?
It appears I’m the only one having trouble because Uncle points out. “She’s carrying a sack. Maybe she got lucky with a couple of foxes.” Uncle shrugs, but still seems interested in what she might’ve brought back.
When Auntie Kay finally catches up with us, I see she has a large self-satisfied grin on her face. She throws the sack at elder Cyrus’ feet and smugly states. “My weight in game, as requested.”
She’s acting suspiciously. Both Rivin and Cyrus’ eyes narrow at her. Instead of acknowledging the two, she just winks in my direction and I can't help but grin with her, even if I don’t know what she’s being so mischievous about.
Elder picks up the sack with hesitance. Acting like something might pounce at him the moment he opens the bag, he unties the neck and lets the contents fall to the ground.
What drops out is hundreds of black charred… things. I can’t tell what they are because they are already all burnt to a crisp.
“What… is this?” Elder Cyrus seems more annoyed than confused. Maybe he already knows what the black things are.
Auntie’s smirk seems to grow with the question and repeats herself. “My weight in game, of course.” I can’t help but try to stifle my giggle.
As if emboldened by my humour, she continues. “I didn’t think I would have to repeat myself to you, Elder.”
I look over at elder Cyrus and he does not look amused at all, but I see Uncle trying to hide the small twitch at the corner of his mouth.
“I understand that. But I want you to tell me why you have brought Jerboas that are in such a terrible condition. Really, is there any flesh left on any of these rodents?” Cyrus interrogates her, but Kay’s smile doesn’t waver.
“Well, you said to bring back my ‘weight in game’. I don’t remember you specifying anything about its condition.” She picks up one of the charred jerboas and continues. “It’s not like we can’t make use of them anyway.” She swallows the animal whole as if to prove her point.
Elder Cyrus just sighs. He seems more exasperated than angry. “So what? you just found a swarm and fried them all? You were supposed to work for this.”
Auntie puts on a face of fake annoyance and replies. “Hey, do you even know how hard it was to pick up all of these rodents? There’s hundreds of 'em there. It took me so long.”
“Obviously not long enough.” Elder comments, before giving her a command. “Add them to our supplies, then. And don’t try to skirt your duties next time.” After saying this, he walks back to the front of the caravan.
After he is gone, Auntie offers me a jerboa, which I take after she cuts it up a bit.
“Isn’t it bad to anger Elder so much? What if he makes you do something worse next time?” I ask Auntie, worried about how much she provoked elder Cyrus, even if it was funny.
Instead of Auntie, it is Uncle Rivin who answers. “I’m sure she’ll be given a harder task next time, but Elder Cyrus isn’t mad. I’m sure he finds it just as amusing as we do. Why do you think she isn’t being punished right now?”
I see Auntie Kay nodding along. So maybe they are right. But why wouldn’t he laugh if he found it funny too?
While I chew on half a jerboa, Auntie groans, realising Elder left her to pick up all the rodents once again.